FAZER LOGINPOV: Sofia..Luis sat on the couch first, legs spread wide like a king, then pulled me on his lap so my back was pressed against his hard chest. I could feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles of his torso. His cock nestled between my ass cheeks, throbbing.“Spread your legs over mine,” he murmured into my ear, his voice low and commanding.I obeyed, opening myself completely. Cool air kissed my dripping pussy as he reached down, gripped his cock, and rubbed the fat, leaking head up and down my soaked slit, teasing me slowly until I was shaking.“Luis…” I whimpered, hips twitching desperately.“Tell me,” he said, biting my earlobe. “Tell me how badly you want this cock back inside you.”I was beyond shame now. “I need it,” I breathed, voice trembling. “Please fuck me. I want your cock so deep inside me I can’t think.”He lined himself up and pulled me down slowly, forcing every thick inch into my soaked pussy. I moaned loudly as he stretched me open, the new angle making him fee
POV: Sofia..I reached behind my back and found the zipper. My fingers felt a little clumsy as I slowly pulled it down.This was insane. I came here to steal from him… and now I was stripping for him like a whore.The material slid down my body, pooling at my feet. I stepped out of it, standing before Luis in nothing but black lace lingerie and heels. My nipples were painfully hard, pressing against the bra. I could feel how soaked my panties already were.“Fuck me…” he breathed, voice rough. His eyes devoured every inch of me, lingering on my tits, my stomach, the curve of my hips, and the tiny scrap of lace between my thighs. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”“Turn around.”I obeyed, turning slowly. I heard his sharp inhale as he stepped closer, his warm breath ghosting over the back of my neck before his hands settled on my waist. He unhooked my bra with one hand, letting it fall away. Then his hands moved up and cupped my bare breasts, squeezing them possessively.A ne
POV: Sofia..My name is Sofia Garcia. I’m twenty-seven, and for the last six years I’ve made my living stealing and forging art. Not the big museum heists you see in movies. I work smaller, smarter jobs for rich collectors who don’t ask questions. I switched a fake Rothko for the real one in a private Geneva collection last year. That paid my mother’s medical bills for eight months. Tonight’s job was supposed to do the same for the next two years.I stood in front of the mirror in my small apartment, adjusting my outfit for the job. It was a black gown that clung to my body, showing the curve of my hips and the push of my breasts without looking cheap. The lace mask I wore on my face hid my eyes and the top of my nose. I needed to look like I belonged among people who never worried about rent.The target tonight was a small 17th-century oil painting worth enough to change my life for a while. My client wanted it quietly. I had studied the floor plans for three weeks, knowing exac
POV: Lyda..I ran a bath, sinking into water that was too hot, trying to wash away the weird feeling that had settled in my chest after seeing my mom and Richard fucking.The image of Richard's cock surged in my mind again, making my pussy clench, but I fought the urge to finger myself to the nasty thought. After I got dressed, I stepped into the hallway. I was heading toward the stairs when someone came around the corner. We collided hard, and I stumbled back, almost falling down before strong hands caught my arms, steadying me."Sorry," a voice said.I looked up and froze. It was Richard.“Be careful next time, baby.” He smiled.My brain stuttered. "Ummm. Sure… I will.”Before I could say anything else, footsteps echoed from downstairs. Mom's voice drifted up, saying something about being late."I should go," Richard said. "Told your mom I'd walk her out to the car."He moved past me, and I caught the smell of sweat and cologne.He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking back
POV: Lyda.."Lyda, I hope you like salmon," Richard said, passing me a plate. "Your mother mentioned it was one of your favorites."Of course she did.The fact that she'd been having conversations about me with her new man made something twist in my stomach. My eyes darted around the wide dining room for a while to distract myself. It was screaming luxury. I glanced at Mom, who was watching me with this pleading expression, like she wanted me to play nice, to pretend everything was fine."It's okay," I said, taking the plate.Richard smiled like I'd just made his whole day. "We're so glad you're here, both of you. This house has been too quiet for too long."I didn't respond, just cut into the salmon. It was perfectly cooked, which somehow made me angrier. Of course, everything in this place was perfect."I know this is a big change," Richard continued, his voice too cheerful. "But I want you to think of this as your home now. Anything you need, just ask.""What I need is to go bac
POV: Lyda.."You didn't even tell me you got married!"Mom set her fork down slowly, like she was buying time to come up with some excuse that would make this all okay. It wouldn't work. Nothing could ever make this okay."Lyda, I was going to tell you—""When? After we moved into his house? After you erased every trace of Dad from our lives?" My voice cracked on the last word, and I hated myself for it. I didn't want to cry in front of her. "Your father has been gone for two years—""So that makes it fine?" I pushed my plate away, the chicken and rice she'd made suddenly making me sick. "Two years and you're already replacing him? Moving us into some stranger's mansion like Dad never existed?""Richard is not a stranger... and I'm not replacing anyone." Mom's jaw tightened the way it always did when she was trying not to lose her temper. "You're eighteen. You don't understand—""I understand that you didn't even invite me to your own wedding." The words came out mean, exactly how







