Mag-log inOne-year-old Gabriella Walter was supposed to crawl toward her future. They laid out the usual objects on the nursery rug…stethoscope, judge’s wig, diamond tiara. Everyone watched, smiling, as the toddler made her choice. But little Gabby ignored them all. She crawled straight into the arms of the quiet nine-year-old orphan boy her family had recently taken in. They all laughed and called it adorable. Twenty-two years later, no one is laughing anymore. The sweet little girl has grown into a dangerous woman…one who destroys engagements, who moves like sin wrapped in red silk, who waits naked in his bed until he finally breaks. And Aiden Calder… the boy who once carried her on his shoulders and promised to protect her…has run out of reasons to stay away. Some connections are born innocent. This one grew into something insatiable. Disclaimer: If you’re not 18+ or you’re uncomfortable with extreme possessiveness, dark themes, or highly spicy content, turn back now. For everyone else… get ready to burn. The girl who crawled to him first is all grown up. And now he’s the one on his knees.
view moreThe house was quiet the way only old money estates could be on cool Friday evenings…thick walls, heavier silence, every creak a secret waiting to be caught.
Gabriella Walter was nineteen the first time she truly let herself break. She slipped through the corridor on bare feet, the hem of Aiden’s stolen black button-down brushing the tops of her thighs like a lover’s teasing fingers. The shirt still smelled like him…sandalwood, smoke, and the sharp edge of restraint he wore like armor. Her nipples tightened against the cool silk, already aching, already wet from nothing more than the thought of him. She shouldn’t be here. She should have been in London, playing the perfect straight A heiress, pretending the ache between her legs wasn’t named Aiden Calder. But the second she’d heard he was back in the estate for the weekend…she’d taken the last flight home like a woman possessed. His bedroom door was open so she entered freely. Guess what else was open? His bathroom door… Just a crack…but it was enough. The sound hit her first. Low. Rough. Wet. The unmistakable rhythm of a man’s hand working his cock under the shower spray. Gabriella’s breath caught. Her toes curled hard against the hardwood, a sharp little pulse shooting straight to her clit. She pressed her thighs together, already slick, already swollen. Her pussy throbbed in time with every filthy stroke she could hear through the half-open bathroom door. Steam curled out like an invitation. She moved closer, silent as sin, until she could see him through the fogged glass. Aiden. Six-foot-five of brutal, carved muscle, head tipped back under the pounding water, jet-black hair plastered to his forehead. One big hand braced against the marble tile, the other wrapped tight around that thick, heavy cock she’d dreamed about for years. He stroked slowly at first, then harder, veins standing out along his forearm, jaw clenched so tight she could see the muscle jump. A deep groan tore from his throat…raw, broken, and desperate for someone to pound into. Gabriella’s knees nearly buckled. Heat flooded her core so fast her vision blurred. Her clit swelled, pulsing, begging. She could feel her own slick dripping down the inside of her thigh, no panties to catch it. Just bare, needy cunt clenching around nothing while the man who’d owned her soul since she was one year old fucked his fist like he was punishing it. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, pressing her palm between her legs without thinking. The second her fingers brushed her swollen clit she had to stifle a whimper. She was soaked. Dripping. So sensitive that one light circle made her hips jerk. Aiden’s strokes grew rougher, faster. Water sluiced down the ridges of his abs, over the deep V that pointed straight to where his fist flew. His balls drew up tight. His scar-cut eyebrow twitched, lips parting on another deep, animalistic groan. He was close. Gabriella’s fingers slipped between her folds, circling her clit faster, matching his rhythm. Her other hand braced on the doorframe, nails digging in as her thighs trembled. Toes curling so hard her arches cramped. Her nipples were diamond-hard, aching to be sucked, bitten, marked by the mouth currently gasping for release. She wanted to push the door open. Drop to her knees on the wet tile and replace his hand with her tongue, her throat, her cunt. She wanted him to snap, to shove her against the glass and finally take what they’d both been destined to take from each other since the day she crawled across that nursery rug straight into his arms. But she stayed hidden…just long enough. Aiden’s hips snapped forward. His voice cracked into a choked, broken roar as he came, thick ropes of cum painting the shower wall, pulsing again and again while his massive body shuddered under the spray. The sight of it sent Gabriella over the edge. She came hard, biting down on her own wrist…until a helpless, high-pitched moan tore free from her throat before she could stop it. She slapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The sound cut through the steam like a gunshot. Aiden’s head snapped toward the cracked door, ice-blue eyes blazing, chest still heaving, cock still twitching in his fist. But Gabriella was already gone. Bare feet flying silently down the corridor, heart hammering, slick still dripping down her thighs, she disappeared around the corner just as the shower shut off behind her with a sharp metallic screech. He never saw her. He never knew whose desperate little moan had echoed through his bathroom. But she knew. And that single stolen moment…his release, her broken sound, the way his eyes had searched for what he could never have…branded itself into her soul like a promise. She had crawled to him first. One day soon, he would crawl back. And when he finally did, neither of them would ever be able to stop.Aiden's POV Marcus nodded before the last word could leave my lips. “Both my girlfriend and I think so. The way the original officers assigned to the case worked to scrub his presence from the record is the biggest red flag. And here’s the part that ties everything together…that family later became the primary sponsors of the rebuilt orphanage…even till date."I went completely still after he finished speaking.The Whitmores?The same family whose estate we used to be driven to as children, forced to perform and smile for scraps of attention and leftover food. The same family that appeared after the fire with money and construction crews, rebuilding what had been destroyed. I had always wondered why people that cold would care enough to restore an orphanage they refused to sponsor all along. I've always wondered why they decided to play the heroes all of a sudden after rejecting all our attempts at seeking for their financial support.Now the pieces were slamming into place with u
Aiden’s POVThe restaurant sat in a part of the city that most people forgot existed after dark.No sign on the door. Just a narrow alley, a single bulb above a rusted metal entrance, and a password Marcus had texted me an hour earlier. Inside, the lighting was low on purpose…deep reds and shadows that made every face harder to read. I was already too exhausted to care about anything else. The day had been too long and the revelations so confusing. My body felt heavy, but my mind refused to shut off.Marcus Hale arrived right on time and we wasted no time. We shook hands without much ceremony and slid into the corner booth at the far end. A waiter appeared, took a drink order, and vanished again. No small talk. We both knew why we were here.Marcus pulled a slim folder from his bag and set it on the table between us.“You know how we’ve covered a lot of ground since we started,” I said. “Dead ends, name changes, buried records. But today changed the shape of everything.”I told him
Aiden’s POV“This is a hard pill to swallow. Why… would Abel do that? Could he have?” Daisy’s voice was barely above a whisper as we got into the car.I didn’t answer her. I couldn't bring myself to. My skull felt too small for everything crashing around inside it…old memories colliding with new accusations, none of them willing to fit together.A single image of Abel rose up, sharp and uninvited.He had been the softest person I had ever known. When we were still small, a stray dog had sunk its teeth deep into his ankle. The director reacted the only way she knew how…one vicious swing of a heavy stick and the dog’s leg snapped instantly. Abel cried the entire night, but not from his own pain. I had slipped out of my bed after lights-out, following the wet, broken sounds he was trying to smother into his pillow, and asked if it still hurt. He shook his head and whispered that it must have hurt the dog to bite into his skin…what if its teeth cracked? And cried about how it was rain
Aiden’s POVThe caregiver pushed the door open with her hip and held it for us.“Be gentle,” she said in a low voice. “She just woke up from a nap, so don’t rattle her if you can help it…Martha’s emotions are quite fragile."Daisy and I both nodded anxiously.The woman crossed to the narrow bed where an old lady sat propped against pillows, a half-finished piece of knitting in her lap. She rested a hand on the thin shoulder and smiled.“Be good Martha, okay?”Martha didn’t answer. The caregiver squeezed once, then started for the door. At the threshold she paused and looked back.“One more thing. Martha has mixed dementia. Some days she’s clear; other days, the past and present get tangled in her head. She might talk about something that happened twenty years ago as if it’s happening right now. So… just be prepared.”Perfect. Absolutely perfect. The one person I needed information from had mixed dementia. Because apparently, getting answers was too easy.But I didn’t say that out loud












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