Forbidden flames

The drive home went by in a blur, as Adrian's words echoed relentlessly in my mind. ‘I want you Lena Marsh, and I'm gonna get you’. 

How could he say something like that? So bold, so unapologetic, especially after I'd clearly told him I was married. He was crossing a line, no doubt, but God, it felt intoxicating. Heat had pooled low in my belly the moment he leaned in, his hand sliding gently over mine, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered it.

I loved Noah and I can’t leave him for anyone. Not even for the dangerously irresistible, heartbreakingly gorgeous brother of my boss.

The taxi pulled up to my building, and I hurried upstairs, fumbling with the keys. My cheeks were bright red, like a tomato. When I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, my hand drifted absentmindedly to my lips. I traced them slowly, imagining how his lips would have tasted had he leaned in and kissed me at the restaurant.

Shaking that thought, I stripped off the beige gown, as it fell to my feet, and wrapped myself in my soft robe. I turned the faucet on, stepping under the icy spray. It poured all over me, shocking my heated skin, cooling the flush on my face and the ache throbbing between my thighs.

"Fuck," I whispered aloud, my voice echoing. "Did I just get wet for Adrian Blackwood?"

I exhaled shakily, running wet hands through my hair. I shut off the water, slipped the robe back on, and moved to the bedroom. I chose my favorite red nightwear, the silky one that hugged my curves like lingerie, thin straps and lace trim that always made me feel secretly sexy. I applied my lip balm, put on my bonnet to protect my curls, then walked to the kitchen.

I checked the time and it was 9:30 p.m and there were countless missed calls and texts from Noah, both from yesterday and today. I'd been ignoring them because I didn’t feel like talking to him. I opened the fridge, pulled out the leftover creamy pasta and chicken wings, scooped out some and microwaved it, because I knew he would be late again. I set the table neatly, like the supportive wife I kept trying to be.

Just as I finished, my phone buzzed on the counter. I picked it up and it was a message from an unknown number. ‘Did I cross the line today?’ My breath caught as my fingers trembled as I stared at the screen. I hadn't given Adrian my number—how did he...? Before I could process it, another message popped up. ‘Because if I did, I don't regret it’.

A thrilling smile crept across my face before I could stop it. Just then the front door clicked open and Noah walked in, looking exhausted, but his eyes lit up the second he saw me in the red nightwear.

"Baby," he said softly, dropping his bag and crossing the room in three strides. He pulled me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around my waist like he was afraid I'd vanish. "I'm truly sorry about yesterday. No matter how busy I was, I should never have forgotten our anniversary and I shouldn't have taken you for granted. I'll be better—I swear I'll do better. Just please forgive me."

His words were honest, nervous, and pleading, but they barely registered in my head. My mind was still on those texts, as Adrian's bold confession kept replaying on loop.

When I didn't respond immediately, he pulled back, studying my face with concern. "Lena? Babe?"

"Uhn sorry," I blinked, forcing myself back. "I zoned out for a second. It's fine. I'm not upset anymore. It's in the past."

I stepped away, and headed to the bed. He didn't push or argue, he just smiled gratefully and started unbuttoning his shirt. I climbed into bed, with my phone in hand, staring at Adrian's messages.

"Did anything happen at the office today?" he asked lightly, nodding toward my screen. "You were staring at your phone and smiling when I walked in. I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile like that. It's... really good to see." He said as he stood there, stark naked and unselfconscious, waiting for my answer.

I chuckled softly, locking the screen. "It was just Maya. She sent me something funny. That’s all." He accepted it with a nod, and headed to the shower. The moment the bathroom door closed, I leaned back against the headboard, biting my nails, as my heart raced, I typed. ‘Are you flirting with me, Mr. Blackwood?’ Then I hit send. 

His reply came almost instantly. ‘Is that what it is? I never knew. But is it working?’ Smiley emoji. 

I chuckled quietly, warmth spreading through me. He was trouble, a dangerous, sweet, addictive trouble, and hell—I wanted every bit of it. 

Noah came out from the shower minutes later, already dried up. He sat at the table, digging into the dinner I'd warmed. I stayed in bed, my attention glued to my phone, as I exchanged teasing texts with Adrian. Every buzz sent a thrill through me, a part of me wished I was still with him laughing over champagne, lost in those intense eyes, rather than being here.

I was paying no attention to what Noah was saying until his voice sharpened. "Lena? Baby, are you listening at all? I feel like I've been talking to myself for the last fifteen minutes."

He stood, carrying his empty plate to the sink. "Uh—sorry," I said quickly, setting my phone face-down. "Just got distracted, what were you saying?"

He turned, drying his hands, his brow furrowed. "Are you okay? You've been acting weird since I got home. Is it because of what happened? I said I was sorry, I really didn't mean—"

"No, Noah," I interrupted gently, faking a yawn and stretching under the covers. "It's not that. I just had a really stressful day at work, so I'm exhausted. I think I should head to bed now."

He nodded, just as his smile returned. "Alright. That's fair. I'll join you as soon as I’m done here."

That bright, hopeful smile made my heart feel guilty, like I was already cheating on him with every secret text, every forbidden fantasy. But my body screamed the opposite,  that this pull I felt toward Adrian was right, alive, and electric.

I rolled away from Noah's side of the bed, facing the wall, as I slid my phone under the pillow. Soon the bed dipped as he climbed in. His arm wrapped around my waist, as he pulled me back against his warm chest. He nuzzled my neck, as his lips trailed soft kisses down my skin.

"I missed you," he murmured, his hand sliding lower, slipping beneath the lace of my panties. His fingers found my clit, as he started rubbing slow circles.

I moaned softly, arching into his touch. I turned to face him now, kissing him deeply hungry, and intense. His pace quickened around my entrance, teasing. My hand slipped under his shorts, stroking him slowly until he hardened fully.

He moved above me swiftly, taking  my panties off in one quick move. He trusted inside hard, and fast. I gasped, my nails digging into his back as he drove deeper. He lifted my legs to his shoulders, as he pushed further, the rhythm alternating, fast, then slow, then faster again.

I kissed him desperately, like I was drowning and he was the air I needed. Craving him more, I needed him to take me deeper, to make me scream until my vision blurred and my eyes rolled back, but that didn't happen.

With Noah, foreplay was always rushed, and minimal. I'd tried for years to spice things up, I suggested sex toys, different positions, lingering touches, anything but he never quite got it. For him, it was about release. Quick, and straightforward. He came with a low groan, collapsing beside me, breathing hard. He kissed my forehead tenderly. "Love you," he whispered, as he turned his back facing the other side.

I lay there panting, body still thrumming, still wet, horny, aching, unsatisfied, angry and frustrated that this was what our my sex life had become. Boring, predictable, always leaving me wanting. But despite my unmet need, only one face filled my mind. One man I imagined above me, inside me, driving me to the edge I'd been chasing for years. One man whose name I wanted to scream until my voice broke. Adrian Blackwood.

Little did I know, he wasn't the only one who wanted me for himself, and I was stepping blindly into a war I never knew existed.