LOGINThe platform was almost empty by the time Elena stepped off the train.Rain still fell in a fine, cold mist that turned the concrete shiny and dark. Most of the delayed passengers had already scattered into taxis or the late bus. She stood under the partial shelter of the station overhang, bag clutched against her side, and tried to decide whether her legs were trembling from the residual orgasm or from the sudden drop in temperature.She could still feel him.The stretch. The heat. The slow, deliberate way he had filled her and then cleaned her up like it was nothing. Her underwear was damp and sticky against her skin. Every step made her aware of the soft ache between her thighs and the faint, lingering throb where his fingers had pressed into her hip.She should have gone straight home.Instead she walked.The street outside the station was quiet at this hour. Sodium lights cast long orange pools on the wet pavement. Elena’s heels clicked softly. She had no clear destination, only
The train had been sitting dead on the tracks for forty-seven minutes. Rain hammered the windows in thick, uneven sheets. The overhead lights flickered once, then steadied into that soft, yellow quiet-car glow. Most people had already given up and were scrolling or sleeping with their mouths open. Elena kept her coat on, legs crossed, bag clutched against her hip like a shield. She had a deadline waiting at the other end of the line and a low, restless ache under her skin that had nothing to do with work. He boarded at the last stop before the delay—tall, dark coat still damp at the shoulders, a single leather bag, no phone in sight. He chose the seat directly across from her in the nearly empty quiet car. Not beside. Across. Close enough that their knees almost touched when the train gave its occasional, useless shudder. He didn’t look at her at first. Just settled, unbuttoned the top of his coat, and rested one long hand on his thigh. Clean nails. A thin silver ring on the middl
She came back on the second night. I was at the hotel. Same room. I hadn’t left much since the alley. The hollow under my ribs had opened wider every hour she stayed away. By the time the knock came it felt like something was chewing its way out from the inside. I opened the door. She stood there in the same black dress, hair loose, eyes darker than before. The heat coming off her was still thin at the edges but stronger in the center. She’d filled back up some. Not all the way. Enough. She walked past me without speaking. I locked the door and the security bar. When I turned she was already pulling the dress over her head. No bra. No underwear. She dropped it on the floor and looked at me. “I’m ready,” she said. “You’re not full yet.” “I don’t care.” I crossed the room. Stopped in front of her. The pull between us was tighter than it had ever been—like a wire strung too hard. I put my hand on her throat, not squeezing, just resting there. Her pulse hammered against my
She didn’t leave the next day either. By the third morning in that hotel room the air itself felt in a different but charged manner. And every time she moved I felt the heat spike before she even touched me. It had stopped fading the way it was supposed to. Most vessels leveled out or burned down after a few solid feeds. She kept climbing. I should have put distance between us then. I didn’t. We barely slept. I’d take her, feed deep, let her rest an hour or two, then she’d wake up already reaching for me again. The empty spot under my ribs never had time to open. I stayed full in a way that felt wrong. Too steady. Too easy. Around noon on the third day she sat up in the tangled sheets and looked at me straight. “I can feel you even when you’re not touching me,” she said. “Like a pull under my skin.” “I know.” “It’s getting stronger.” “I know that too.” She dragged a hand through her hair. It was a mess. So was the rest of her—bruises on her hips from my fingers, a faint mark
She stayed the whole next day. I woke up first. Late afternoon light cut through the gaps in the hotel curtains. She was still asleep on her stomach, one arm under the pillow, the sheet tangled around her hips. I watched the slow rise and fall of her back for a while. The residual heat coming off her was low and steady, like embers under ash. I could have taken a little of it without waking her. I didn’t. When she finally stirred she rolled onto her side and looked at me for a long time without speaking. “You’re cold,” she said eventually. “Always.” She reached out and put her palm flat on my chest. Held it there. “Not freezing. Just… cooler than you should be.” I didn’t move. Her skin was warm against mine. The contrast made the heat in her rise a notch, automatic. I felt it slide toward my hand where it rested near her waist. “How long have you been like this?” she asked. “Long enough that the years stop mattering.” “And you only feed the way you do with me?” “
Three nights later she walked into the club like she owned the place. Same black dress, different energy. She didn’t scan the room this time. She came straight to the bar where I stood and set her bag down hard enough to make the glasses jump. “I tried not to come back,” she said. “How’d that work out?” “Shit. Everything else feels flat. Sex with anyone else feels like nothing. I even tried it last night. Wasted twenty minutes and left before he finished.” I didn’t say anything. Just watched the heat rolling off her. It was stronger than before. Thicker. Like it had been building the whole time she stayed away. “You knew that would happen,” she said. “I knew it might.” She ordered a drink, downed half of it, then looked at me again. “I don’t want another alley. Or a closet.” “What do you want?” “Somewhere with a bed. A door that locks. Time.” I paid for her drink and mine, even though I hadn’t touched it. “There’s a hotel three blocks over. I keep a room there
The hotel room door barely clicked shut before hands were all over me. Not gentle. Not careful. Hungry. Mike shoved me backward onto the nearest bed so hard my back bounced on the mattress. The lamp cast ugly yellow light across the room, but nobody cared about romance. My head was still spinni
*A New Collection: After being in a four years relationship with Jake, Emily catches him and her bestfriend hooking up. Heartbroken - Leading her to get complicated with some nasty strengers in the bar ready to split her open if she asked for it.(This is a continuation from my last book - Unheard P
Mark stood there in the near-dark, the faint glow from my nightlight catching the hard line of his jaw and the massive bulge straining the front of his gray sweatpants. He didn’t look shocked nor angry. He just looked… hungry. Like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. He stepped all the wa
I bit down hard on the pillow to keep from screaming as Jake’s thick cock drove into me again, and again, stretching my dripping pussy wide open. The bed creaked under us like it was about to give out, but I didn’t care, not tonight, not when his hips were slamming against my ass so perfectly,







