เข้าสู่ระบบMom left for a three-day conference in Chicago on Wednesday morning. Kissed Alex on the cheek, told me to “be good for him,” and drove off like she hadn’t just handed me the keys to hell.The house felt different the second the door shut. Bigger. Quieter. Dangerous.I spent the afternoon pretending to work on the rewrite he’d ordered. Mostly I just sat at the kitchen island in one of his old dress shirts—stolen from the laundry, still smelling like him—and shorts so short the pockets hung lower than the hem. He came home at six, loosened his tie, and found me like that. Didn’t say a word at first. Just looked. Long and slow. Then he poured two glasses of the good whiskey he usually saved for himself and set one in front of me.“You’re not twenty-one,” he said.“You’re not my real dad.”He almost smiled. Almost. We drank in silence while the sky went dark outside. The air between us felt charged, like the second before a storm hits. Every time I shifted on the stool the shirt rode high
Monday morning I walked into Lecture Hall B wearing the shortest skirt I owned and no panties. Just a thin white button-down that gaped a little when I breathed and a black leather bag that smelled like the new notebooks I’d bought just to look prepared. Front row, center. Exactly where he’d told me to sit.He was already there, sleeves rolled, glasses on, writing something on the board in that sharp, aggressive handwriting of his. When the door shut behind the last student he turned, scanned the room, and landed on me like he’d been waiting for it. His eyes dropped once—quick, deliberate—to the stretch of bare thigh where the skirt had ridden up. Then he looked away and started class like nothing had happened.He was worse in public. Cold. Precise. Every sentence a blade. He called on me three times in the first twenty minutes, each question sharper than the last, voice never rising above that low, controlled register that made my cunt clench.“Miss Kane. Define the unreliable narrat
I moved in on a Thursday afternoon when the humidity was thick enough to stick to your skin like cheap perfume. Mom had already carted half her shit upstairs, humming like this was the best decision of her life. Me? I stood in the foyer of this overpriced colonial with my duffel bag and a stomach full of acid, staring at the man who’d just married her three weeks ago in some Vegas chapel neither of us got invited to.Professor Alexander Kane.I’d known the name before I knew the face. Literature department legend. The one who made seniors cry over semicolons and still had undergrads lining up outside his office like he was handing out orgasms with the graded papers. Tall, broad through the shoulders, dark hair with a little silver at the temples, and that permanent half-scowl like the world had personally disappointed him. Up close he was worse. Or better. Depending on how wet you wanted to get.He took the bag out of my hand without asking. Fingers brushed mine. Warm. Rough. I felt i
Derek showed up the next morning with a duffel bag and a six-pack. You opened the door in sweatpants, already half-hard from the way Maria had woken you up with her mouth. She was still on her knees in the hallway behind you, naked, waiting. He looked past you at her and grinned. “She sleep on the floor again?” “Yeah. Get in.” He dropped the bag by the couch and kicked the door shut. Maria crawled over without being told, reached for his belt, and started undoing it. You watched her free his cock and take him into her mouth right there in the entryway while he set the beer on the table. She sucked him slow and deep, the same way she’d learned to do for both of you—no hesitation, just wet heat and the soft sound of her throat opening. You walked up behind her, pushed her forward so her hands were on the floor and her ass was up, and slid into her cunt in one hard thrust. She was already wet. She always was now. You fucked her while she sucked him, the three of you falling int
Derek showed up the next morning with a duffel bag and a six-pack. You opened the door in sweatpants, already half-hard from the way Maria had woken you up with her mouth. She was still on her knees in the hallway behind you, naked, waiting. He looked past you at her and grinned. “She sleep on the floor again?” “Yeah. Get in.” He dropped the bag by the couch and kicked the door shut. Maria crawled over without being told, reached for his belt, and started undoing it. You watched her free his cock and take him into her mouth right there in the entryway while he set the beer on the table. She sucked him slow and deep, the same way she’d learned to do for both of you—no hesitation, just wet heat and the soft sound of her throat opening. You walked up behind her, pushed her forward so her hands were on the floor and her ass was up, and slid into her cunt in one hard thrust. She was already wet. She always was now. You fucked her while she sucked him, the three of you falling into the
You didn’t let her leave the bed until past noon. Every time one of you walked back into the room Maria was already in position—legs open if you wanted her cunt, mouth open if you wanted that instead. You fucked her twice more before lunch, once on her back with Derek holding her legs open for you, once on her hands and knees while he fed her his cock from the front. She came hard both times, shaking and dripping, but you didn’t give her a break. You just wiped the sweat off her back with the sheet and told her to stay ready. Around one o’clock you ordered food. When the delivery guy knocked Maria started to sit up. You pushed her back down with one hand on her chest. “Stay. Naked. Quiet.” Derek answered the door in nothing but his work pants, half-zipped, while you kept two fingers buried in Maria’s cunt the whole time. You heard the short exchange at the door, the rustle of bags, then Derek came back with the food and a smirk. “Kid didn’t even look twice.” You pulled your fin
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,
*A New Collection I was sprawled across my bed in nothing but the thin silk robe I’d stolen from Mom’s closet, the fabric slipping off one shoulder as I read Tyler’s latest text for the third time. “Babe, I’m dying over here. Send me something filthy so I can stroke to it before I lose my mind.”
*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







