Se connecter❤️Sophie❤️
The man actually stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, or maybe I have. I myself can’t believe I said that, but I don’t take it back. Sebastian has blamed me for years for being so horrible at satisfying him, but this stranger here says I’m not the problem. So there is only one way to find out, letting him fuck me. The thought alone is leaving me wet already. I can feel my underwear getting soaked and clinging to my pussy. “I want you to fuck me,” I repeat, growing more confident by the second. “Hey, you are saying this because you are drunk.” I shake my head. I’m drunk, yes, but I have my brain intact. “I’m not stupid. I know what I’m wishing for. Unless, of course, you are terrible at it as well, or maybe you are just like my ex, thinking I’m not good enough.” Another laugh cuts through the air. It’s like he finds every word coming out of my mouth amusing. “You are more than good enough.” I ignore the electricity shooting through my body. “So why are you hesitating then?” “I’m not. I want to make sure you know what you are wishing for. I’m going to fuck you recklessly, senseless, until you can’t think of anything else for days.” Is that a threat? Why does it feel like the words just fingered my pussy? Like damn, I’m actually dripping. “I want you to fuck me until I’m utterly senseless, completely useless for days. I want to think about your dick for days and find it hard to concentrate on anything else.” A smile tugs at his lips, wicked, dangerous, the kind that should scare me but only pulls me closer. For a moment, he stares at me, like he’s trying to figure out whether I’m going to regret this tomorrow. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Right now, I honestly don’t care. The only thing I know is that I can’t stand the thought of going home and spending the entire night crying over Sebastian. Slowly, the stranger stands and extends a hand. “Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I place my hand in his. His fingers close around it warmly, and he pulls me out of the club into a long corridor. A few minutes later, I’m standing in the middle of a small but nice hotel room. Everything looks neat. The smell of perfume fills my nose. The man comes so close to me, close enough that I can feel his hot breath against my forehead, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze searches mine. “Are you sure about this?” For one second, I think about Sebastian, Mrs. Davis, the way she rubbed it in my face that I could not satisfy him, the way he chose her, the way he made me feel like I was not enough. A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow. “Yes, now shut up and fuck me as you promised.” The man starts with a kiss. He pulls me close to him and plants his lips on mine, tasting, exploring. It starts slow, and a moan rips from my throat before I can stop it. I cling to him. The stupid taste of alcohol mixes with his breath. Oh my God, I’m so aware of him. His teeth find my lower lip, and he bites, not too hard, just enough to send something crazy flying down to my pussy. Sebastian doesn’t kiss me like this. He barely even kisses me, but this man kisses me like he’s trying to communicate without having to say a word. Then he grabs my ass and squeezes. I’m fucking sure I’m dripping by now because I can feel something trail down my legs. “You taste so sweet, cupcake.” I try to reply to him, but he spins me so hard I almost lose my footing. A squealing sound escapes me. “What are you doing?” “What your stupid ex should have done a long time ago.” Before I can ask what exactly, I’m on the bed on all fours, and he stands just behind me. His hand comes down on my ass hard, and my legs shake. The pain is so sharp every thought flies out of my head for a second. Another spank, but this time, it makes my pussy ache. “Enjoying that, good girl?” I nod. He spanks again. “Answer me with your mouth, my little cute slut.” Slut? The word should offend me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it only turns me on. Tonight I will be his little cute slut, or anything else he calls me. “I’m enjoying it,” I purr, feeling the alcohol swirl inside me Another spank hits my ass before I know it, and I jolt. “Fuck me, please. I can’t take it anymore.” My pussy burns with want so badly that I may collapse right now if he doesn’t thrust into me. Hearing my silent prayers, the man unbuckles his belt and brings out his dick, placing it directly at my entrance. “Shit, you are dripping.” “Yes, so dripping wet for you.” He tears my undies. The sound cuts through the room and straight into my body. Then he pushes two cruel, long fingers into my opening, and I clench around him. Something I’ve never experienced before takes over. I feel my body vibrate. The man removes his fingers and thrusts them back, and fuck, I come hard. The orgasm hits me so hard I nearly fall off the bed. I just came. The reality settles deep inside my chest. The man pauses as well. “You came for me, baby.” I did. It seems so easy, so effortless. This man just accomplished a mission my ex-boyfriend has been unable to accomplish for three years. Just when I think it’s over, he slams into me in one cruel motion, and a moan tears from my throat before I can stop it. His cock is so huge, nothing like I’ve experienced before. “Shit, baby,” he groans, and the sound enters my ears directly. Gripping my waist, he keeps thrusting into me, and I grab the bedsheet to stop from falling. The fucking is raw and animalistic. My pussy clenches again, and I come for the second time. Oh my God, I’m so shameless. My pussy is so freaking slutty. I already came twice, and he hasn’t even come once. The slamming becomes harder, crazier. I should be tired, but my body gets more alive with each thrust. “Fuck me more, please.” He does. He really does. A stupid smile creeps onto my face. This is what I need. To be fucked raw until I can’t stand properly. Till I forget every second of pathetic sex I had with Sebastian. Finally, the man grunts behind me and spills his seed inside me. The liquid warms my insides, filling me with a stupid sense of contentment. One thrust, that’s all it takes, and I come all over his dick for the third time. “You came every minute,” he chuckles and releases my waist. I collapse onto the bed with a satisfied smile. My eyes feel heavy. I don’t even bother to put my stuff back. I lie down, uncaring, until sleep takes over. The last thing I remember is the man covering me with the blanket before I drift off to sleep. *********** The next morning, I wake up to the sun drifting through the curtains and shining directly onto my face. I groan and cover my face for a moment. My head pounds. Memories come rushing back to me. The whiskey. The club. My eyes snap open. The stranger. Last night, inside this room. Heat rushes to my face, “Oh my God…” I sit up too quickly, only for dizziness to hit me. Tangled white sheets slide down my body as I press a hand to my forehead. But the bedroom is silent. Too silent. “Hello?” I glance around the room, my clothes are scattered on the floor exactly where I’d left them. The bed beside me is empty, the bathroom door is slightly open. Hope flickers in my chest. I climb out of the bed and push the bathroom door open, no one. I check the small sitting area. Still empty. Did he leave already? I stand there, unable to believe my eyes. He didn't wake me. He didn't leave a note. Not even a phone number. I don't even know his name. A strange disappointment settles inside me, I don't even know why. This was supposed to be one reckless night, nothing more. Still— I bite my lower lip, a humorous laugh escapes me. “Well done Sophie.” I came here to forget one man, now I'm standing in a hotel room wondering about another. Why am I always unlucky when it comes to men? I shake my head, no, I'm not doing this. Last night happened because I was hurt. Because I wanted to prove something. Not to get involved with another man. Yet…..somehow, I found out I was not the problem, there is nothing wrong with me. And for the first time in three years, I no longer believe Sebastian’s cruel words. I was not the problem. At least he could have stayed till morning so I could get to know him better. Why the hell did he disappear without saying goodbye after such mind-blowing sex? My shoulders slump, and I walk naked back into the room. Disappointment tugs at my heart, and here I was, thinking he would give me another crazy sexcapade this morning. Fuck him. Fuck me too for wanting more. Just as I'm about to get dressed, my phone buzzes on the bed and I pick it up. It’s a text message from Sandy, my best friend. *Where the hell are you Sophie? Your parents are a breath away from informing the media of your disappearance* One corner of my mouth lifts. I was busy getting fucked by a stranger.☠️Adrian☠️I know something is wrong the moment Sophie walks through the door. It isn’t obvious.She isn’t crying. She isn’t angry. She isn’t even quiet enough for most people to notice. But I know her now.I know the difference between her ordinary silence and the kind that means her mind is somewhere else.I am standing near the staircase when she walks into the house, Sandy beside her. Sophie is laughing at something Sandy says, but the moment her eyes find mine, the smile on her face changes.It becomes real. That should make me feel better. Instead, I notice the hesitation before she comes toward me. I wait. Sandy looks between us, then smiles. “I’ll leave you two.”Sophie gives her a small wave. “Thank you for today.”“Anytime.” Sandy walks toward the door, and I watch her leave before looking back at Sophie.She is already taking off her sandals. “How was your day?”“Good.” Too quick.I walk toward her. “Good?”She nods. “Yes.”I take her bag from her shoulder before she can pr
❤️Sophie❤️By Saturday afternoon, I am desperate to get out of the house. Not because anything is wrong. Actually, that is the problem. Nothing is wrong.Everything has been so quiet lately that I feel like I am living inside a bubble. Adrian goes to work, comes home, spends time with me, and somehow manages to make even the most ordinary days feel like something I want to keep.But I am tired of sitting in the same rooms. So when Sandy calls and tells me she is already on her way to the shopping district, I don’t hesitate.I change into a loose cream dress, slip my feet into sandals and grab my bag before heading downstairs.One of the maids is arranging fresh flowers in the sitting room when I walk through. “I’m going out with Sandy.”She looks up and smiles. “Will Mr. Blackwood be joining you?”“No. He’s working.”She gives me a knowing look that makes me laugh.“I’ll be back later.” Outside, the afternoon air feels warmer than I expected.By the time Sandy arrives, I am already wa
❤️Sophie❤️By the time Adrian gets home, the afternoon has already settled into that quiet part of the day where the house feels almost too peaceful.I am curled up on the sofa in the sitting room with my feet tucked beneath me, one hand resting absently over my stomach while the television plays something I haven’t been paying attention to for the last twenty minutes. A maid passes through the room with a tray of folded laundry, gives me a small smile, then disappears down the hallway.I glance toward the entrance when I hear the front door open. My body reacts before I even think about it. I sit up.A few seconds later, Adrian walks in.He looks exactly like he always does when he comes home from work—dark suit, loosened tie, sleeves still buttoned at his wrists—but there is something different in the way he carries himself. His shoulders are slightly tense, and his expression is harder than it was when he left this morning.He spots me almost immediately. His eyes settle on mine.
☠️Adrian☠️I wake before the alarm. For a few seconds, I don’t move.The room is still dim, the curtains drawn, the air cool against my skin. Sophie is asleep beside me, turned slightly toward my side of the bed, one hand resting near her face.My gaze drops to my right hand. The knuckles are swollen. I flex my fingers carefully.The dull ache reminds me of the wall, the empty room upstairs, the photograph sitting inside the box. And Sophie standing on the other side of the door.I look at her. She had every reason to ask more questions yesterday. She didn’t. She could have pushed until I told her everything. She didn’t.Instead, she sat beside me with an ice pack wrapped around my hand and acted as though I was still the same man she had woken up beside that morning.I don’t know what to do with that. My eyes move over her face. She looks peaceful. Trusting. Completely unaware of how much of my life exists outside the version of me she knows.I get out of bed quietly. The moment my f
❤️Sophie❤️ I knock again. There is no answer. I look at the closed door, my hand still resting on the handle. Something is wrong. Adrian doesn’t usually walk away from me like that. Especially not after I’ve said something as harmless as asking whether our fathers were friends. I glance down the hallway. The house is quiet again. Somewhere downstairs, I can hear one of the maids moving dishes in the kitchen, but up here there is nothing except the silence behind the door. I knock once more. “Adrian?” Still nothing. I slowly turn the handle. The door opens. He is standing by the window with his back to me. For a second, I look at him. His shoulders are tense, and one hand is hanging stiffly at his side. Then I notice his knuckles. They’re red. I step inside. “What happened to your hand?” He doesn’t turn around immediately. “Nothing.” I stare at him. “Adrian.” He finally looks over his shoulder. His expression is different. Not cold exactly. Just closed. I walk toward him. “Y
☠️Adrian☠️I don’t say anything after Sophie shows me the second photograph. I can’t. The image remains on her phone between us, my father’s younger face staring back at me from a life that feels like it belonged to someone else.Felix stands beside him. Both of them are smiling. Friends. They had been friends long before I ever knew what betrayal looked like.Long before I understood that the people my father trusted could be the same people who would help destroy everything he had built.I know this photograph. Not this exact copy, but the moment it captured.I’ve seen photographs from that period before. I’ve heard my father speak about Felix. I’ve watched them sit together, discuss business, laugh over drinks, and make plans.My father trusted him. That was his mistake. Felix’s mistake came later. The debt. The promises. The money my father never borrowed.The things that were taken from us. The house. The business. Everything that had once made us secure. And then the night that







