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The call with Marcus ended, but the echo of his voice still hung in the air like smoke.Damon stayed buried deep inside me, his cock twitching as the last of his cum leaked out. I was a mess — flushed, trembling, my pussy still pulsing around him, full of him. The guilt hit me like a wave, but it was drowned out by the heat, the thrill, the way my body was still humming from how hard he’d just fucked me while talking to my ex-husband.“You’re insane,” I whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified. “What if he heard?”Damon kissed me slow and deep, his hand sliding up to cup my breast, thumb brushing my nipple. “He didn’t. And even if he did… I don’t care anymore.” His voice was rough, possessive. “You’re not his. You’re mine now.”He started moving again — slow, lazy thrusts, like he couldn’t bear to pull out. I moaned softly, my legs wrapping tighter around him. Every slide of his thick cock sent sparks through me, my oversensitive walls fluttering around him.“Damon… we just finished,”
The morning after, I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets, his arm heavy around my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. My body ached in the best way — thighs sore, pussy still tender and slick from how many times he’d taken me during the night. I could feel the evidence of him between my legs, sticky and warm, a constant reminder that I’d crossed a line I could never uncross.I turned in his arms and found him already awake, watching me with those intense hazel eyes. No regret. Just heat. Possession. Something deeper that made my stomach flutter.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid down my side, cupping my ass and pulling me closer. His cock was already half-hard against my thigh.“Morning,” I whispered back, kissing him softly. The kiss quickly deepened, his tongue sliding against mine, his hand squeezing my ass harder. I moaned into his mouth, my body responding instantly, wetness pooling between my thighs again.He rolled me onto my back, sett
He pushed inside me slowly, inch by thick inch, and my breath caught in my throat.The stretch was everything. Damon was big — thicker than I’d expected, filling me so completely that for a second I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Just feel. The burn was sharp at first, then melted into this deep, aching fullness that made my toes curl against the sheets. I could feel every ridge, every vein as he sank deeper, my walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust.“Fuck, Aria,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine. His voice was rough, strained, like it was taking everything in him not to thrust hard. “You’re so tight. So fucking perfect.”I whimpered, my hands sliding up his back, nails digging into his skin as he bottomed out. He stayed there for a long moment, buried to the hilt, letting me feel all of him. The weight of his body on mine, the heat of his skin, the way his cock throbbed inside me — it was overwhelming in the best way. I felt claimed. Wanted. Like every inch of me was f
He stood up, lifting me with him like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me down the hall to his bedroom. The room was masculine and clean — dark wood, big bed, city lights glowing through the windows. He laid me down gently, then climbed over me, kissing me again.This kiss was slower. Deeper. His tongue stroked mine like he was savoring me. One of his hands slid up my thigh, pushing my dress higher, fingers brushing the edge of my lace panties. I arched into him, needy and aching.“Damon… please,” I whispered.He groaned, kissing down my neck, sucking lightly at my pulse point. “Tell me what you need, Aria. I’ve waited so long. I want to hear it.”I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me like you mean it. Like I’m yours.”His eyes darkened. He sat back and pulled my dress up and off in one smooth motion, leaving me in just my black lace bra and panties. His gaze raked over me hungrily.“Jesus Ch
ARIAThe next few days were torture.Damon texted me the morning after he left my apartment. Simple. Direct. *Tomorrow night. My place. 8 PM. No pressure.* I stared at the message for twenty minutes before replying with a single word: *Okay.*I spent the whole day nervous, changing my outfit three times, shaving everything, putting on the kind of lace underwear I hadn’t worn since the honeymoon phase with Marcus. By the time I pulled up to his sleek modern house on the edge of the city, my hands were shaking on the steering wheel.He opened the door before I could even knock.Damon stood there in a dark gray button-down, sleeves rolled up, looking like sin wrapped in expensive fabric. His eyes dragged over me slowly — the simple black dress that hugged my curves, the way my hair fell loose over my shoulders. No words at first. Just that heavy, loaded stare that made my thighs press together.“Come in,” he said, voice low.The house smelled like him — woodsy cologne, fresh coffee, some
I arched into him, my fingers tightening in his hair, but something in my chest tightened too. The guilt. The reality of who he was. I wasn’t ready to feel cheap. Not yet. Not like this.“Wait,” I breathed, gently pushing at his shoulders. My voice was shaky, my body screaming at me to let him keep going. “Damon… stop. I can’t. Not like this. Not right now.”He pulled back immediately, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and confusion. His lips were swollen from our kiss, his cock still straining obscenely against his pants. “Aria… talk to me. What’s wrong?”I tugged my shirt back down, suddenly self-conscious, even though my nipples were still tight and aching. My pussy was throbbing, soaked and empty. I wanted him so badly it hurt. But jumping straight into this felt wrong. Like I was just the rebound. The forbidden fruit he’d always wanted but never had.“I just… I don’t want to be the girl who fucks her ex-husband’s brother five minutes after he walks through the door,” I admitted
The silence that followed was deafening. Cade just stared at me, his expression cycling through shock, disbelief, and something darker that made heat pool low in my stomach."You're joking," he said finally."Do I look like I'm joking?""Lily, you're—" He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, clear
Lily's POVI'm nineteen years old and still a virgin, and I'm so fucking tired of it.Not because I feel like I'm missing out on some magical experience, or because I'm embarrassed, or because of social pressure. I'm tired of it because every guy I've been with at college has been a complete disapp
I could see my face, mouth open, eyes half closed, cheeks flushed, sweat running down my neck.He gripped my hair, wrapped it around his fist, pulled my head back gently but firmly so I had to keep watching.“Look at how you take it,” he said, voice low and rough. “Look how your pussy grips me. Mad
**Elena’s POV**I was obsessed. All day I moved through the world like a ghost—went to the grocery store, folded laundry, answered texts from friends—but my mind was stuck on the squat rack, on Marcus’s mouth between my legs, on the way he’d pulled back right when I was about to break. My clit st







