MasukThe next three days passed in a blur of fucking and lying.Cane took me whenever he wanted. On the kitchen counter again. Bent over the bathroom sink. On my hands and knees in the hallway because he couldn’t wait long enough to reach a bed. He fucked me slow and deep in the middle of the night when I was half-asleep, whispering filthy things against my ear while he filled me again. He made me keep his cum inside me for hours. He made me answer my husband’s calls while his fingers were buried in my pussy, forcing me to stay calm and sweet on the phone while I dripped all over his hand.By the morning of the fourth day I barely recognized myself.I woke up on my stomach with Cane already inside me, fucking me in long, lazy strokes like he had all the time in the world. One of his hands pinned both of my wrists above my head. The other was under me, two fingers rubbing slow circles on my swollen clit.“Last day,” he murmured against the back of my neck. “My father’s plane lands at six. T
I should have locked my door.Instead I stood under the hot spray of the shower and watched my husband’s son’s cum slide down my thighs and disappear into the drain. My hands were shaking. My pussy was still swollen and sensitive from how hard he had fucked me over the kitchen counter. Every time the water hit my clit I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.When I finally stepped out and dried off, I didn’t put the nightie back on. I didn’t put anything on. I walked down the hall naked, heart hammering, and stopped in front of the guest room door.It was already open.Cane was sitting on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, elbows on his knees, watching me like he had been waiting. His eyes dragged slowly down my body—wet hair, bare tits, the soft curve of my stomach, the bare, freshly fucked pussy between my legs—and something dark and satisfied settled in his expression.“Good girl,” he said quietly. “Come here.”I walked to him on unsteady legs. When I got close enough he r
I never meant to end up on my knees for my husband’s son.But here I was, cheek pressed to the cold kitchen counter, nightie shoved up around my waist, Cane’s thick cock slamming into me from behind so hard the entire island shook. Every brutal thrust punched a broken moan out of my throat. My pussy made filthy wet sounds around him. The wet slap of his hips against my ass filled the quiet house.“Fuck—look at you,” he growled, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. “Three hours. That’s all it took for my father’s perfect new wife to spread for me.”I should have been ashamed.I wasn’t.I pushed back harder, taking him deeper, chasing the stretch that already had my thighs shaking. He felt huge—thicker and longer than anything I was used to—and he used it like he already owned every inch of me.“You’re soaking my cock, Rose.” His voice was low, rough, almost amused. “Does my dad make you this wet… or is it just me?”I couldn’t answer. I could only
Three Months Later.I still hated him in the mornings.Especially on the mornings when I woke up sore, marked, and already wet, with Rhys’s heavy arm locked around my waist like he was afraid I might try to leave in my sleep. I never did. That only made me hate him more.The penthouse no longer felt like his.It felt like ours — in the most fucked-up, temporary, permanent way possible.I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in one of his white shirts, coffee in hand, watching the city wake up. Behind me I heard the soft sound of bare feet on hardwood. A second later his chest pressed against my back, warm and solid. His mouth found the side of my neck, right over the fading bruise he’d left two nights ago.“You’re up early,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.“Some of us have actual work to do.”His hand slid under the shirt, palm spreading over my bare stomach, then lower, until his fingers rested possessively between my legs. He found me already slick. A quiet, satisfied so
My stomach dropped.My cunt clenched.Rhys walked in behind me, closing the elevator door with a soft electronic lock. He didn’t speak. He simply moved past me, picked up the tie, and let it dangle from his fingers.“You remember,” he said. Not a question.I swallowed. “Yes.”“Good.” He stepped closer. “Clothes off. All of them. Then go stand by the windows.”I should have told him to go to hell.Instead I stripped in silence while he watched. Blouse. Trousers. The ruined panties. Everything. When I was naked he pointed with the tie toward the glass.I walked over and stood there, city lights painting stripes across my bare skin. My reflection looked wrecked already—flushed, marked, thighs shiny.Rhys came up behind me. He didn’t touch me with his hands at first. He just dragged the cool silk of the tie slowly down the length of my spine, over the curve of my ass, between my legs, letting it brush my sensitive folds until I shivered.“Wrists,” he said quietly.I offered them behind my
The elevator doors closed.Rhys didn’t speak. He simply stood behind me, close enough that I felt the heat of his chest against my back, and traced one slow finger down the length of my spine under my blazer. The touch was light. Possessive. A silent reminder that his come was still leaking out of me with every heartbeat.I stared straight ahead at the mirrored doors, jaw tight, trying to ignore the way my pussy clenched around nothing, trying to ignore how sensitive I still was.“You’re quiet,” he murmured near my ear.“I’m trying not to slap you in a public elevator.”His soft huff of laughter ghosted over my neck. “You can try later. I’ll even let you.”The elevator stopped on the executive floor. The second the doors opened he stepped away like nothing had happened, the perfect picture of professional distance. I followed him into the glass-walled conference room on unsteady legs, hyper-aware of the wetness between my thighs and the faint, filthy scent of sex that I was certain ev
The heavy click of the front door locking echoed through the massive mansion like a gunshot in the silence.Lila stood frozen in the kitchen, her heart hammering so violently she could feel it in her throat. Damien was gone. Really gone. The house felt emptier than ever, yet somehow more dangerous.
He kissed her neck, open-mouthed and hot, sucking lightly on her pulse point. Lila’s knees weakened. She clutched his shoulders for support, feeling the hard muscle beneath her fingers."Tell me to stop," he challenged, even as his hand slid down her waist to grip her full hip. "Tell me you don’t w
Lila Harper had always been the good girl.At nineteen, she still blushed at the mere mention of anything intimate. Raised by a single mother who drilled modesty and purity into her, Lila had never touched herself, never watched anything forbidden, and certainly never imagined the things that happe
Lila stumbled back into the venue, rain-soaked and trembling. The thin yellow sundress clung to her curvy body like a second skin, outlining every heavy swell of her breasts and the flare of her wide hips. The vibrator inside her virgin pussy buzzed mercilessly, intensifying with every step she too







