INICIAR SESIÓNThe text came through at 4 PM, three hours before I was supposed to leave for my sister’s wedding. *We need to talk. Can you come over before you leave?* I stared at it. At those six words from Jake. My boyfriend of two years. I should have known. Should have seen it coming. The way he’d been distant lately. The canceled plans. The excuses that never quite added up. I went anyway. Found him sitting on my couch with Emma. The Emma from his office he’d sworn was “just a colleague.” “I’m sorry,” he said. Not looking sorry at all. “It just happened.” “It just happened?” I laughed, sharp and bitter. “How long?” “Does it matter—” “How. Long.” “Four months.” Four months. While I’d been planning my sister’s bachelorette party. While I’d been dress shopping and writing my maid of honor speech. While I’d been stupidly, naively believing we were solid. “I need you out,” I said quietly. “Lena, we should talk—” “I need you out of my apartment. Now. Both of you.” They
Ethan, please ” I was already close, his words and his mouth combining into something overwhelming. “Not yet, baby. Stay with me.” He gentled his movements, keeping me hovering right on the edge. “I want to wake up next to you every morning in this house. Make you coffee while you sketch new designs. Kiss you goodbye before work and come home to you every night.” I was trembling now, his fingers curling inside me to hit that perfect spot while his tongue worked my clit with devastating precision. “I want to take you to all the places we dreamed about. Want to watch you build your business into everything you’ve imagined. Want to grow old with you and look back on this night as the beginning of everything.” “I want that too,” I gasped, my hips rolling against his mouth. “I want all of it with you oh god ” “Come for me, Liv.” His voice was commanding but tender. “Let me feel you fall apart. Give me everything.” Permission was all I needed. The orgasm crashed through me, intense and cons
Eleven months into our arrangement. One more month. One more month and the inheritance would be secure. Derek’s legal challenge had crumbled. The lawyers were satisfied we were “genuinely reconciling.” One more month and I could walk away with half of everything and never see Ethan again. Except somewhere between month three and month eleven, I’d stopped wanting to walk away. We’d broken our “no sex” rule so many times I’d lost count. What started as weekly family dinners became me staying over most nights. My toothbrush in his bathroom. My clothes in his closet. Morning coffee made exactly how I liked it. We still hadn’t talked about what happened after the year ended. We just kept pretending this was temporary. Tonight was the final hurdle. The estate lawyer’s office. Signing the papers that would officially transfer Gran’s inheritance to Ethan. With me listed as his spouse on the documents, validating our “reconciliation.” I wore a simple black dress. Professional. Nothing th
I shimmied out of my jeans and underwear, heart pounding. Standing naked while he was still fully clothed made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Exactly how I liked it. His eyes roamed over me slowly. Possessively. “God, I forgot how perfect you are. How responsive.” He traced one finger down between my breasts, over my stomach, stopping just above where I needed him most. “You used to love it when I took control. When I told you exactly what to do. Do you still?” “Yes.” “Yes, what?” My breath caught. He wanted me to say it. “Yes, sir.” His eyes flashed. “There’s my good girl.” He gripped my hips, lifting me. “Wrap your legs around me.” I did, and he carried me to his bedroom, laying me on the bed with surprising gentleness. Then he stood back, looking down at me spread out naked on his sheets. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Show me how you’ve been getting yourself off for the past two years.” Heat flooded my face. “Ethan—” “That’s not my name right now.” His voice was steel wrapped in vel
I hadn’t heard Ethan’s voice in four months. Four months of successfully avoiding him. Of declining mutual friends’ invitations if I knew he’d be there. Of taking different routes to work so I wouldn’t pass his office building. Four months of pretending I was over him. Then my phone rang at seven PM on a Tuesday, his name flashing across the screen, and all that careful distance evaporated. I stared at it for three rings before answering. “Hello?” “Liv.” Just my name, but his voice deeper than I remembered, rougher sent a shiver down my spine. “I need to see you.” “Ethan—” “Please. It’s about Gran.” My chest tightened. His grandmother. The woman who’d welcomed me into the family like I was already hers, who’d cried at our wedding and at our divorce. Who’d called me once a month even after the papers were signed, until I’d gently asked her to stop because hearing about Ethan through her was killing me. “What happened? Is she okay?” A pause. “She passed. Two weeks ago.” “Oh god.” I sat
Three weeks. That’s how long Jake and I had been doing this. Sneaking around. Stolen hours at his apartment. Quick kisses in parking lots. Late-night phone calls where we talked until dawn. Three weeks of the best and worst kind of torture. Right now? Definitely the best kind. “God, you feel so good,” Jake groaned, hips snapping against mine as he drove into me. “So fucking tight. So perfect.” I couldn’t respond. Could barely breathe. Just dug my nails into his shoulders and held on as he fucked me into my mattress with deep, powerful thrusts that had my headboard hitting the wall. “Jake—” His name came out as a broken moan. “That’s it, baby. Say my name.” His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit. “Want everyone to know who makes you feel this good.” “Connor—” I gasped. “Connor could come home—” “Connor’s at work until six.” He circled my clit faster, making my back arch off the bed. “We have hours. And I plan to use every single one of them making you come







