2.

Eva.

I still stood there, glued to that same point. 

I listened to her beg in pleasure…she screamed yearning for more. 

I still felt the heat between my legs. It haven't stopped.

It only burned more. 

I couldn't see him, he wasn't touching me but I could feel my wet pant. 

I imagined it was I inside there…in that room. Even if it was just his hands on my waist and his mouth covering my breasts.

My hands strongly clinged to the bed spread, panting in ecstasy. Dragging the Bedsheet, holding it like a strong support while opening my legs wide for him to fuckk me harrrd.

She moaned more this time…Fuckkk me …fuck me hardderr!!... There was pain in her voice but undeniable pleasure. Don't stop please… Get it into meee!!!

My body froze..I was on fire. 

I imagined what his cock would look like. The size. The only clear view I've gotten is…him in his trunk suit. And the monster dangling in between his legs.

And ohhh!!, I realised my hands were already inside my gown. I moved a little further up with my fingers and there…. I groaned.

I tried it a second time and it felt good. 

Suck them!!! Hold…Rubb!!. Her voice cracking…I'm sure it's from the intensity of the heat. 

Yes!! There!!! harder please…

It must be her breasts. He must be pressuring them. I looked down at my breasts… I removed my gown. I started pressing my nipples, rubbing my breasts together, just imagining it were his hands.

It felt good…it really did.

I rode my fingers once more into my clit and I pushed it in..more than before. I moaned in pleasure…calling his name.

I badly wished he could see me, that he could see the way my body reacted just to the mere thought of him. The way I've wet my self all over.

Ohh!!!, I badly wished he knew.

When i called my self back to order, I pressed my back pressed against the cold wall, the silence around me sharp and breathless. My legs trembled slightly though not from fear—but from something else. Something unnamable. Something reasonably dangerous.

Inside that room, the one I stood before. Dominic’s room—there were still noises. Moans. Groans. Skin against skin. And Lydia’s voice so breathy, so loud I could hear every high-pitched gasp. It should have disgusted me…it should have sent me rushing back to my bed but I didn’t move. I just stood there… listening.

And feeling. And touching myself.

I could still hear them, even as I walked away. The echo of it stayed with me it haunted my mind even long after I lay in bed with my eyes Wild open, limbs tense beneath the sheets. Staring at the ceiling. My breathing came in shallow waves and my chest rose and fell too fast. And when my hand strayed beneath the covers, I snatched it back. I shouldn’t. Not the second time.

But I wanted to.

I dipped my middle finger first, I shifted. Then the second. And I pushed both in.. 

Mhhhhh, I moaned. 

I should not be doing this…

And that scared me more than anything.

***

The next morning was cruel. The sunlight streamed through my curtains as if my world hadn’t shifted overnight. As if everything inside me wasn’t now teetering on the edge of something unholy. Something that kept consuming me.

I dressed slowly with every brush of fabric on my skin feeling like a reminder. I didn’t dare look at myself too long in the mirror maybe because I might’ve seen something there I didn’t recognize. Someone obviously not me.

Downstairs, the house was much alive. Chloe was laughing about something over an orange juice. Blaise sat beside her, scrolling through his phone ocassionally looking at her, his arm lazily draped behind her chair. Mateo passed through with coffee, whistling some stupid Spanish song under his breath.

Then Dominic walked in.

My head took a wild spin.

I felt his presence like a cold gust against my spine. I didn’t have to turn I literally *felt* him when he entered the room. And when I finally mustered courage to look, he was already looking at me. Not just looking but *seeing*. His eyes held mine just long enough to make my mouth water.

Had he known I was outside his room last night? Had he heard my footsteps, my breath, did he hear me moan his name when I finger fucked myself ? Was that why he looked at me like that now—like he knew?

I looked away quickly, trying to focus on my toast. My hands trembled slightly. And my breath rose.

“Did you sleep well?” Chloe asked, very cheerful.

I nodded too quickly. “Yeah. I had a good sleep. Great.”

Liar.

***

The day moved slowly. Chloe dragged me around the house, and we helped with little decorations. She was excited about some party she was throwing. “It would be fun!!” She kept repeating. Mateo hung lights always making a joke every five minutes. Blaise stayed glued to his phone only perking up when Chloe kissed his cheek.

I stayed quiet…many things were stuck in my head. Every time I saw Dominic, even from miles away, it felt like the room got smaller, tighter with no air to breathe. There was an energy now very subtle but heavy—like a current moving through air no one else noticed.

At one point, I caught him staring through the kitchen window while I helped Chloe sort tablecloths. He bit his lower lip, his eyes glaring in desire. His eyes found mine again, unreadable. He didn’t smile and he also didn’t look away.

Neither did I. 

***

By nightfall, the house was dimly lit with warm lights…candles flickering in different corners. It felt dreamy yet dangerous.

I was curled up on the couch, nursing hot tea trying to still the noise inside me when Chloe excused herself upstairs. “Just gonna change,” she said with a wink, pulling Blaise along with her. I'm sure it won't take long. 

I didn’t think much of it—until I heard the door close. And then… silence.

Not for long though.

I froze. The sounds were very faint, but unmistakable. Soft moans. Pleasure!!! Shifting weight. A low thump then a giggle. Then… breathy whimpers. Chloe’s voice...I wasn't mistaken. She was caught up, she was enjoying it. 

It didn't stop there.

Repetitive shouts….mmmmhhh!!!! Argggghh!!!. Harder!!! Please…. please harder!!!. 

This was meant to be my Christmas break, my chill out. But I only desired now to be touched more than anything. 

Though not by anyone, by Chloe's father Dominic Callahan.

I closed my eyes tightly, but it didn’t stop the images from forming. It only pivoted me into my imaginative realm. I didn't get why I was imagining the scene upstairs. Her making love upstairs. Her body tangled with Blaise’s. 

His arms around her waist, her clit pressed on his hips. His arms cupped around her breasts. His mouth sucking her. And me—down here. Cold and alone just listening again.

I hated how much I *felt*. How much I *wanted*. How much I wanted it to be I though not with Blaise, but with Dominic. My body ached with it. My mind pulsed with things I couldn’t name. Why did *she* get everything? The affection the touch and even the freedom? Why did I feel like I was suffocating in desire while everyone else lived so freely?

It was until I felt my wetness on the couch did I realise I was mumbling his name. 

Dominic 

I was already fondling my breasts, lowing my head to suck my breasts while pressing the tip of my nipples.

I shifted, spreading my legs apart letting my hand slide round my clit. I tasted it, it felt good. 

I felt a shadow pass, was it him? I wasn't sure. But I know I saw some dark reflection. 

I pressed my knees to my chest and stayed like that long after the sounds faded.

***

Later that night, I crept down to the kitchen for water. I didn’t bother with slippers or a robe. I was too lost in thought to care.

I didn’t expect to see anyone.

But there he was.

Dominic.

Leaning against the counter in a half-unbuttoned shirt, sipping something from a glass…whiskey maybe. The low kitchen light cast sharp shadows across his jaw. It reminded me of the one I saw earlier.

He didn’t look surprised to see me, I was startled.He just raised a brow slow and steady. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I swallowed hard. “Just… thirsty.”

His eyes dropped to the glass in my hand, then slowly trailed back to my face. “Long day?”

I nodded, avoiding his gaze. But I could feel it, the heat of his stare crawling over my skin like fire. I opened the fridge, just to have something between us.

“You’ve been alot quiet lately,” he said, his voice low. Almost amused.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

When I turned around, he was closer.

“Everything okay?” he asked, and I swear it wasn’t just a question—it was a challenge.

I met his gaze. Everything in me wanted to scream, to run. To *touch*. I hated him and I craved him.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

He nodded slowly. But his eyes lingered—on my lips, my neck, lower.

And I knew then: this wasn’t over. It's just the beginning.

He pinned me to the kitchen table, his hands on the furniture. 

His eyes staring into my innocent eyes as if reassuring himself that I was too young. Then he stared at my lips, my quivering lips.

I felt hot…but I wanted that hand on my hip, stroking it.

Slowly, his right hand shifted. Tracing my wrist, my shoulder and then my face. He tucked in a few strands of my hair and leans over to my right ear. 

Did I hear you well….when you moaned my name earlier today? It was a whisper. But it se

nt my heart thudding.

Then I realised, it made sense now. He was actually there. 

His left hand raised me up, placing me gently on the kitchen table. 

I closed my eyes….