"You’re just too old to handle me,” I spat in fury. “That’s why you won’t f*ck me.” His eyes turned feral. “What did you just say?” he growled, stepping closer. My breath hitched, and heat pooled between my legs. “I said you're old—and not man enough.” He grabbed my chin, lips inches from mine. “Baby girl, when I’m done with you, you’ll beg this 'old man' to stop. You won’t just know I’m man enough—you’ll feel it in every inch of your sore, trembling body.” ***** At 40, architect Lorenzo De Vito has built a life of discipline and control—until 23-year-old Emily Ross steps into his world. She's bold, ambitious, and irresistible, awakening desires he buried long ago. Lorenzo knows she's off-limits, a risk to his career and reputation, but her teasing smiles and undeniable chemistry make her impossible to resist. As the tension between them ignites, the line between control and surrender begins to blur. Will he resist the temptation or risk it all for the one woman he shouldn’t want?
View More“Oh, yes, Liam, faster, don't stop," I heard the breathy moan of a woman followed by the grunt of a man. The man's voice all too familiar but I didn't want to believe what I was hearing, it couldn't be the same Liam.
I saw the clothes scattered on the floor looking like they had first started it here before taking things further to the bedroom. But still I didn't want to believe it. As quietly as I could, I made my way to the bedroom and I stopped at the sight in front of me. The door was left ajar so I could see everything that was happening inside. I froze as my jaw dropped. I wasn't dreaming, I wasn't seeing things. It wasn't another Liam. It was my boyfriend. My boyfriend of seven years. I felt an indescribable pain in my chest like something just plunged their hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, I was shattered, broken. He was too lost in pleasing another woman that he hadn't even noticed me. He had his head thrown back in pleasure with his eyes closed as he thrust furiously into the woman who was on all fours and I just stood there watching—my heart breaking into pieces. I don't know how it happened. Maybe he felt the daggers I was throwing at him but he finally turned and our eyes met. He stopped as he quickly pulled out of the woman. “Emily, I can…I can explain,” he said as he quickly covered himself as the woman turned, looking at me with disdain for having interrupted them. "Explain? What other explanation can you give to the fact that I just saw you balls deep inside a woman that isn't me,” I spat, my voice dripping with venom. “Is this her?" the woman asked and that was when I turned to really look at her and I couldn't help but feel insulted, “This…Liam, this is who you cheat on with? Some chestless flat ass bitch!” I spat, as my eyes burned with tears but I pushed them back, "Seven years Liam, seven years, I gave you…” "I didn't ask you to, okay, yes we were madly in love in highschool but this isn't highschool anymore and you're a clingy bitch who wouldn't leave me alone," I gasped as I looked at him in shock. For a moment I couldn't speak. Did the guy I imagine getting married to and having kids just call me a clingy bitch. Wow. “So I'm clingy Liam, then why didn't you break things off? Why? Why did you make a fool of me?" I asked and he had the guts to shrug, “The sex was good, until you started acting weird," hearing him say that was like a punch to the guts. “Suddenly I'm a weirdo Liam," I said, nodding my head as I looked at him, murder running through my mind. “A weirdo," “You should probably leave," the woman said and I narrowed my eyes at her in slits. “Fucking open that mouth one more time and I'm cut off your tongue," “Don't fucking talk to her like that!" Liam snapped protectively as he took a step towards me and I took a step back in shock. “This is what it is?" I asked as my voice cracked, the pain was too much and what was even more painful was that there wasn't any ounce of regret in his eyes, he didn't care. “Was I just a joke to you Liam, someone for you to toy with for seven years?" “Look Emily, I don't have the time for this. I told you it was the sex but you started getting wild Emily. Tie me up Liam, spank me, choke me, what type of freak are you?" He said and the woman laughed and I couldn't help but join her but for a different reason. “All these years I had thought I was with a man, I didn't know you were just a boy wasting my time. You know what? Fuck you! You can fuck whoever you want! We're done,” for a moment I saw something flash in his eyes but it was gone as soon as it came. Without another word to him, I turned on my heels and walked out of the room and then I broke into a run as I ran out of the house I thought I had good memories in. I had expected to hear the sound of his footsteps following me wanting to explain things to me, to make me feel better. But I heard nothing. He was happy to let me go. I had been nothing but a burden to him. It had only been the sex. I got into my car as I closed the door angrily, and I couldn't hold it any more, I burst into tears as ugly sobs came out of my mouth. How could he do this to me? I had given him my heart, I had loved him unconditionally and he threw it away like it was nothing. All the plans we had of a family, everything—gone. I cried as I rested my head on the steering wheel. The way he had looked at me like I was the stranger in the room and not that woman. He had humiliated me, insulted me. What did she have that I didn't? I know how men look at me because of my body, there wasn't a room I entered that heads didn't turn. And then he chose to cheat on me with someone who isn't as half as beautiful as I am. I covered my mouth trying to silence my cries. I suddenly started wiping my tears in anger despite the fact that they kept falling. He wasn't worth my tears. No man was worth my tears. I have learnt from my mistake and giving my heart to a man would never happen again. I gave Liam seven years and he wasted it, from today henceforth men were made only for sex and no man would ever own my heart. With my chin held high and tears rolling down my eyes I made a vow. Never ever love a man again.I was singing in the damn shower. Actually singing. Out loud. Not just humming under my breath like I usually did when I was relaxed or plotting something. No—this morning, I was belting out lyrics like some hopeless fool in a musical. My voice bounced off the marble walls, my hand slick with shampoo as I scrubbed it through my hair and tried not to grin like a madman. Emily. God help me, I was thinking about her again. Her lips. The way they had moved against mine last night—soft, hesitant, then hungry, like she’d been holding back for far too long. It was still burned into my mind, and no amount of cold water could wash it away. I’d kissed her. She’d kissed me back. And then she asked me for time. Time. That word was both a lifeline and a noose. But I’d take it. Gladly. Because the way she’d looked at me… she hadn’t run. She hadn’t pushed me away. That was more than I expected, and more than I probably deserved. "Give me time," she’d whispered. And I had nodded, promising
The car purred beneath us, the quiet hum of the engine doing little to drown out the storm in my head. Morning sunlight filtered through the windshield, casting golden stripes across Emily's thighs where her skirt had ridden up just a little. She sat beside me, silent, looking out the window like she wasn’t really seeing anything. I couldn’t stop glancing at her. She looked ethereal. Soft blouse tucked into that navy skirt, her hair tied neatly in a ponytail, her lips pink and swollen from my kisses. And yet, she was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that said something was wrong. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, jaw clenched. Fuck. I was happy. Or I should be. We’d made love, laughed, kissed like we had all the time in the world. We’d crossed a line, burned the bridge behind us, and I didn’t regret a single second of it. So why did it feel like she was already slipping through my fingers again? I glanced at her. "You okay?" She didn’t look at me. Just nodded, distrac
We stayed tangled beneath the sheets, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, hearts beating in a rhythm only we could hear. My limbs were limp, my skin slick with sweat, but I’d never felt more alive. More wanted. More his. Finally, I let out a small laugh, breathless and dazed. “If we don’t eat something soon, I might pass out.” He smirked, brushing his fingers gently across my cheek. “You didn’t seem to be complaining a minute ago.” “I wasn’t,” I grinned, stretching lazily. “But I do need to refuel.” He chuckled and pulled away from me—reluctantly—and reached for the tray. “Then let’s get some food in you. Can’t have my girl fainting on me.” My girl. Why did those two simple words make my chest ache in the best way? We sat up in bed, the sheets still wrapped loosely around my waist as he fed me a piece of buttery croissant, his thumb brushing the corner of my lips to wipe away a crumb. “You’re staring again,” I teased, popping a strawberry into his mouth
Sunlight was barely peeking through the curtains when I felt the warm weight of his arm draped across my waist. My body ached in the most delicious ways—sore, satisfied, completely used. Every inch of me still tingled with the memory of his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I stretched, wincing slightly, and turned my head. He was already awake. Lying beside me with one arm propping up his head, the other still possessively wrapped around my waist, his eyes devoured me. Slow. Intent. A dark, lazy hunger gleaming in their depths. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked, voice scratchy from all the moaning and screaming I'd done. His lips curved into a smirk. “Because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I rolled my eyes, heat rushing to my cheeks. “You’re full of it.” “I’m full of you,” he said, dead serious. “And I plan to stay that way.” I laughed softly, cheeks still flushed, and turned my face into the pillow. “You’re insane.” He leaned down and kis
Before I could say a word, his fingers slipped between my thighs again—two of them sliding in easily, slick from everything we’d just shared. I gasped, arching up, my hips chasing the rhythm he hadn’t even set yet. He moved them slowly, curling just right, thumb brushing over my clit in soft, maddening circles. “Now,” he whispered, tongue flicking the shell of my ear, “I want to hear something from you.” His fingers worked deeper, faster, each stroke making my thighs shake. “What…” I breathed, barely able to think. “What do you want to hear?” He bit my earlobe gently, fingers thrusting harder, slick sounds filling the room like music only we could hear. “What do you call me,” he growled, “when I’m fucking you like this? When I’m rough… when I’m claiming what’s mine?” My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. My skin was burning, my legs trembling. “Say it,” he coaxed, thumb pressing hard on my clit now, fingers curling perfectly. “Say it, baby. What do you call me w
I didn’t answer him. Not with words. Instead, I rose up on my toes, curled my fingers into his shirt, and pulled him down into another kiss. This one wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful or uncertain or held back by ghosts. It was fire. It was our long silence breaking open, of grief and lust and longing spilling into every breath. I kissed him like I wanted to burn it all down—every wall, every boundary, every stupid reason we hadn’t gotten here sooner. He groaned, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating against my lips as he backed me up until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. We fell onto it together, tangled in breath and heat and urgency. But even in the madness, he was careful—his hands on my face, his mouth moving slower than I expected. It wasn't like the other times. He wasn't trying to erase something or prove anything. He was trying to feel me. "Make love to me," I whispered against his mouth, barely recognizing my own voice. "Now. Please." His eyes met min
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