Borrowed Nights

Borrowed Nights

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing26m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Apr 20, 2025
He only wanted comfort. He never expected connection. Castle lives a quiet life at the edge of the world-surrounded by forest, silence, and the ghosts of people he's helped but never kept. He's a man of stone and instinct, always strong for others, never soft for himself. Until one night, longing outweighs loneliness, and he does something out of character: he hires an escort. Lysander Vale is everything Castle isn't-golden, charming, younger, and effortlessly alive. A man trained to offer warmth without receiving any in return. What was meant to be a one-time arrangement turns into something far more complicated, as Castle finds himself calling Lysander back again... and again. Between quiet conversations, stolen glances, and nights that were never supposed to mean anything, the lines between transaction and tenderness begin to blur. But in a world where affection is bought and feelings are dangerous, can two broken men learn to hold onto something real? Some nights are borrowed. Others become home.
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The office was quiet, I pressed against him on his lap until he shifted me onto the desk, shoving papers and pens aside to make space. He held me steady from behind, hands gripping my hips as he thrust into me. My nails dug into the wood, and I gasped, every movement making me burn with heat. "You're so tight," he groaned, voice low and rough, teeth grazing my shoulder as he pressed deeper. I moaned, chest flush against the desk, rocking back instinctively. "So good... only for me," he whispered, lips brushing my neck, fingers digging into my waist, voice thick with need. I shivered at his words, pressing back into him, feeling every pulse, every movement of his body against mine. "I'm so close..." he muttered, each thrust deeper, harder, every groan dragging me higher. A knock on the door made me freeze, but he didn't stop. "I'll be there in a minute," he told to the person at the door, one hand lightly pressing my mouth. "Quiet, or there'll be consequences later." I whimpered, hips pressing against him, His voice cut through, De Sousa series 1 "You feel so good... so fucking good Bellisima"

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