Masuk"It hurts," I admitted."I know. Give it a minute. Your body needs to adjust."He held still. Perfectly still. Despite what I could see in his face—the strain, the tension, the desperate need to move.He was holding back for me.His thumb found my clit. Rubbed gentle circles."Focus on this," he said. "Focus on how good this feels."It did feel good. The pleasure cutting through the pain. Making it bearable. Almost good."Okay," I said after a moment. "Okay, you can move.""You sure?""Yes. Please. I need—I need you to move."He pulled back slowly. Just an inch. Then pushed back in.I gasped. The drag of him against my inner walls was intense. Foreign. But not entirely bad.He did it again. Slow withdrawal. Slow thrust back in."How does that feel?" he asked."Different. Strange. But—" I bit my lip. "Good. I think. Do it again."He did. Establishing a rhythm. Slow and steady. Giving my body time to adjust. To accommodate. To learn what this felt like.And gradually—so gradually—the pa
I came with his name on my lips. Hard and fast and overwhelming.But he didn't stop.Kept licking. Kept sucking. Kept fucking me with his fingers until I was coming again, even harder this time."Please," I begged when I could finally speak. "Please fuck me. I need you inside me."He looked up at me. His chin was wet. His eyes were dark."Are you sure?""I've never been more sure of anything."He reached for his nightstand. Got a condom. Rolled it on.He positioned himself between my legs.The head of his cock pressed against me, and I felt my breath catch.This was it. This was actually happening."Look at me," he said.I did. His eyes were so dark, pupils blown wide, and I could see everything in them—want and guilt and tenderness and hunger all mixed together."This is going to hurt," he said. "At first. But I'll go slow. And if it's too much, if you need me to stop, you tell me. Okay?""Okay.""I need to hear you say it, Ava. Say you'll tell me if it's too much.""I'll tell you,"
"Too well," he said."Good."I walked past him into the house, leaving him sitting there.Alone.Hard.Wanting.---The next afternoon, my mom went to run errands."I'll be back in a few hours!" she called. "Marcus, can you start dinner?""Sure."The door closed behind her.And we were alone.I was upstairs. Needed a shower. Was gross and sweaty from lying in the sun.I grabbed clean clothes. Went to the bathroom. Started the water.Then realized I'd forgotten my towel.Fuck.I looked around. There was a hand towel on the rack. Too small. Way too small.But it would have to do.I showered quickly. Washed my hair. When I was done, I wrapped the tiny towel around myself.It barely covered anything. Stopped mid-thigh. Showed the tops of my breasts.Whatever. I'd just run to my room. It was like ten feet away.I opened the bathroom door—And ran directly into Marcus.We collided. Hard.The towel dropped.I was standing there. Naked. Wet. Water still dripping from my hair.Right in front o
I couldn't sleep after that.Around midnight, I gave up and went downstairs for water.The kitchen light was already on.Marcus was there. Leaning against the counter in sweatpants and a t-shirt, drinking water straight from the tap.We both froze when we saw each other."Couldn't sleep?" he asked."No."I crossed to the fridge. Got a bottle of water. Took a long drink.Silence stretched between us."This is weird," I said finally."Yeah.""We should probably talk about it.""There's nothing to talk about." His voice was flat. "What happened before—that's done. I'm with your mother now.""Are you?" I turned to face him. "Because you didn't seem very with her when you had your hands in my hair.""Don't.""Don't what?""Don't make this harder than it already is.""Or what?" I stepped closer. "What are you going to do?"He set his glass down. Slowly. Deliberately."You want to know what I'll do?" His voice was low. Dangerous. "I'll bend you over this counter and fuck you until you scream
Having your stepfather move into your house is awkward. Having your stepfather move in when you've had his cock in your mouth is a special kind of hell.It had been a week since the dinner. Seven days of avoiding his calls. Seven days of my mom gushing about how excited she was. Seven days of me lying in bed at night, touching myself and thinking about him, hating myself for it.And now it was moving day.I stood in my bedroom window and watched his truck pull into the driveway. Watched him get out, all broad shoulders and casual confidence in jeans and a grey t-shirt. Watched my mom practically skip outside to greet him.They kissed. Not a quick peck. A real kiss. The kind that made my stomach twist with something ugly and sharp.Jealousy.I was jealous of my own mother.God, I was fucked up."Ava!" my mom called from downstairs. "Come help!"I took a breath. Put on my game face. Headed downstairs.Marcus was already carrying boxes through the front door. He looked up when I appeared
His hands dropped like I'd burned him. He stepped back, putting distance between us."Go back to the table," he said."What about you?""I'll be there in a minute."I should've left. Should've walked out and never looked back.Instead, I looked at him one more time.He was gripping the edge of the sink, head down, shoulders tight.And I could see it. The bulge in his pants. The evidence that he wanted this just as much as I did, no matter how much he pretended otherwise.I left him there.---When I got back to the table, my mom looked up with a smile."Everything okay?""Fine."Marcus returned a minute later. Sat down. Didn't look at me.We made it through dessert somehow. My mom ordered tiramisu and insisted we all share even though neither Marcus nor I touched it.Then, just when I thought this nightmare was ending, my mom cleared her throat."I have some news," she said, looking between us with barely contained excitement.Oh god. What now?"Marcus and I have decided to move in to
Natalie's POVI'd been faking orgasms for three years.Three years of lying beneath my husband while he thrust into me with all the passion of someone filing taxes. Three years of making the appropriate noises at the appropriate times—breathy moans when he entered me, a louder
Mia's POVHarper had invited me to sleep over—like we'd done a thousand times since we were kids.Except this time, I wasn't planning to sleep in her room like always. I wasn't planning to stay up giggling about boys or watching movies or doing any of the innocent things best friends did during sle
"Yes," I admitted, the word dragged from somewhere deep in my chest. "God help me, yes. I haven't been able to think about anything else. But wanting you doesn't make this right—""I don't care about right," she interrupted. "I care about this. About us. About the way you make me feel." She cupped
The kiss was nothing like David's perfunctory pecks. This was desperate, hungry, years of suppressed want exploding between us. His tongue had swept into my mouth and I'd remembered—god, I'd remembered what kissing was supposed to feel like when both people were actually present.His







