LOGIN"Fuck you, Marcel.” “I could,” he says, smiling. “Though I haven’t had sex in years.” “Well, I pity the woman who breaks that streak.” “I do too,” he murmurs, his eyes shamelessly roaming my body. ~~~~ Marriage is supposed to be a blessing. Mine? A fucking curse. My husband loved his job more than he ever loved me—or so I thought. Until I discovered he wasn’t just married to his work. He was screwing half the damn city. And then he had the audacity to serve me the divorce papers. So I left. And Aiden King—his powerful, arrogant rival—opened his door. That was five years ago. Now I’m wearing a ring again. But not his and Marcel doesn't seem to care “This is….so …wrong,” I said practically out of breath “You still taste the same” He Says lining at my entrance “I'm not your wife anymore I'm married now” he said raising my hips to meet his mouth “That means fuck to me and Last I checked, you said ‘I do.’ Walked down the aisle to me. I’ve got the marriage certificate—and a memory of you screaming my name while taking my cock,repeatedly that night any other marriage you think you're in is irrelevant” He says as he slams into me with one brutal thrust God help me. He wasn't wrong….
View MoreAriaMy phone buzzed on my desk, pulling me out of the notes I was reviewing for tomorrow's class.I picked it up and saw Marcel's name on the screen.The message was short and direct: "Wear what I got for you. I'll pick you up at seven."I frowned, rereading it. What he got for me? I hadn't seen any package or gift from him recently.As if on cue, there was a knock at my dorm door.I opened it to find a delivery guy holding a sleek black box with a ribbon tied around it."Aria?" he asked, checking his tablet."Yeah, that's me.""Sign here."He handed me the tablet, and I scribbled my name quickly.The box was heavier than I expected, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I set it on my bed and untied the ribbon.Inside was a dress.A deep red one, made of silk that slipped through my fingers like water, cooling my skin even before I put it on.It had a high slit up one side that I just knew it would reveal everything with a single step, thin straps that looked like they mi
A long, heavy silence stretched between us, filled only by the sound of our breathing.My chest felt tight, like something buried deep was trying to claw its way out into the light.“I liked it,” I said finally, the words so quiet they were barely a whisper in the large room.“When you used my hands on you. When I woke up and realized what I’d done to you while I was lost in that sleep. It made me feel… wanted. Like I was enough just by existing. Like my body knew exactly what to do even when my brain was completely offline.”He exhaled through his nose in a long, controlled burst, like he’d been holding his breath for an eternity.“That’s it. That's the truth.”“But it scares me to death.”I met his eyes again, forcing myself not to look away.“Because if I admit I want more than that—if I tell you I want you to actually take me when I’m like that, when I can’t say yes or no in the moment—what does that make me?”“Mine.”The word came out rough and jagged, like he’d pulled it from de
Aria's POV.I woke up to the heavy, comforting smell of clean, high-thread-count sheets and the faint, bitter aroma of fresh coffee brewing somewhere nearby.I opened my eyes slowly as it adjusted to the light The bed beneath me was huge, an expansive sea of white linen that felt miles wider than the narrow, lumpy mattress in my cramped dorm room.The pillows were plush, sinking beneath the weight of my head, and they smelled undeniably like him—a woodsy, masculine scent mixed with clean soap and a hint of the gym bag he carried everywhere like a second skin.This wasn’t my room, with its peeling wallpaper and the hum of a communal hallway.I sat up fast, the movement jarring my equilibrium, and my heart began kicking rhythmically against my ribs like a trapped bird.The hotel.This was the same upscale hotel we’d come to that first weekend, the one where we’d spent hours hovering on the precipice, almost crossing the line into something permanent before pulling back at the last seco
MarcelI pushed open the heavy door to Aria’s dorm room, my muscles still burning with a dull, throbbing ache from the extra hour of grueling drills Coach had thrown at us as punishment for a lackluster practice.Sweat clung to my shirt in damp patches, the fabric sticking to my skin, and my legs felt like lead weights that I was forced to drag behind me.The second I stepped inside that small, cramped space, the exhaustion and the lingering irritation of the day simply dropped away, replaced by an immediate, jarring focus.The room was dim, swallowed by shadows and lit only by the soft, ethereal blue glow of her string lights looped haphazardly around the metal headboard.Aria was on her bed, her body twisted violently in the thin sheets as if she were wrestling with an invisible shadow, her chest heaving with shallow, panicked breaths like she’d been running for miles through a forest.Her forehead glistened with a fine sheen of sweat that caught the blue light.Small, choked sounds
Marcel I watched her swallow, her delicate throat working in a way that made my chest tighten with a sudden, sharp possessiveness.Aria sat there on the edge of the leather, drowning in the heavy cotton of my shirt, her legs tucked tightly under her as if she could physically hide the raw vulnerab
Marcel I didn't plan to start showing up at her dorm.That’s the lie I tried to tell myself the first time I ended up there again—standing in the narrow, suffocating hallway with its chipped beige paint and buzzing fluorescent lights that hummed like a low-grade headache.My hands were buried deep
AriaMoving on turned out to be less dramatic than I’d expected—there were no sweeping orchestral swells, no cinematic montage of self-discovery.There was no grand, singular moment where I woke up miraculously healed or suddenly indifferent to the memory of his touch. No burst of cinematic clarity
Aria's POV Marcel’s eyes flicked to my cheek, that was still throbbing from the slap, before shifting back to the man.The husband turned, and when he realized who had spoken, his steps faltered.“Mr. King…” His voice shook, almost reverent, like he was addressing a celebrity. Starstruck.It wasn’












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