Masuk**Shawn's POV**Half an hour later, I step into the kitchen and the tension hits me before I even see them. Nancy stands at the stove, her movements sharp and aggressive as she flips pancakes with more force than necessary. Her jaw is set, her shoulders rigid, and she doesn't look up when I enter. Stella sits at the dining table, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap like she's attending a board meeting instead of eating breakfast... The silence is suffocating. "Good morning, Nancy. Is breakfast ready?" I ask, moving to pour myself coffee. "Morning," Nancy slams a plate onto the counter. "Yes it is." Her tone is clipped, and professional, but there's an edge to it that makes it clear she's pissed. I don't acknowledge the obvious anger radiating off her. Nancy's feelings aren't my responsibility, and I'm not about to have a conversation about what she walked in on last night. I take my coffee and sit across from Stella at the table. She glances up at me briefly, her c
**Stella's POV**"I—I'm so sorry—I heard noises and thought someone broke in—" Nancy's voice cracks. "I should go—"She turns and runs, her footsteps pounding up the stairs.Mortification floods through me so intensely I can barely breathe. I scramble off Shawn's lap, my hands shaking as I search frantically for my clothes.I've never been caught having sex. Not even when I was married because sex with my ex was always scheduled, predictable, and behind locked doors.Being caught naked on Shawn's lap is mortifying, I want the floor to swallow me whole."Stella, wait—" Shawn starts, but I can't look at him.I grab my sleep shorts and his t-shirt, clutching them to my chest as I bolt for the stairs. My legs shake with every step, my thighs still trembling from his touch, whether from lingering pleasure or embarrassment, I don't know.I burst into his bedroom and slam the door behind me, leaning against it as my heart hammers against my ribs.What did I just do?My mind immediately reels
**Stella's POV** The pressure of him against my entrance makes every muscle in my body tense. He's so impossibly big—and I haven't had sex in over two years and even then it was nothing like this. "Breathe," Shawn murmurs, one hand cupping my face while the other grips my hip. "Just breathe." I inhale shakily and he pushes forward—just the tip—and I gasp at the stretch. "Too much?" His thumb strokes my cheekbone, his eyes searching mine with genuine concern despite the strain I can see in his jaw. "No." My voice comes out strangled. "Don't stop. Please don't stop." He pushes in another inch and my back arches off the couch. It burns but in the most exquisite way, like my body is finally waking up after years of sleep. "That's it." His voice is rough velvet. "Take me. You're doing so good." Another inch. Then another. He moves so slowly I want to scream, but somehow he knows exactly what I need—this gradual claiming that gives my body time to adjust to his size. When
**Stella's POV** His mouth is everywhere—hot, demanding, claiming every inch of mine like he's been dying of thirst and I'm the only water for miles. My hands clutch at his shoulders, trying to anchor myself because I'm drowning in sensation and I don't want to be saved. This is nothing like the chaste, predictable kisses I endured in my marriage. This is fire and desperation and need. Shawn's hand slides from my jaw down my throat, his fingers splaying across my collarbone. Even that simple touch makes heat pool between my thighs, makes my body ache for more. "Shawn," I gasp when he finally breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down my neck. "Nancy—she could—" "Stop talking," he growls against my skin, his teeth grazing my pulse point. "Just feel." His command sends a shiver through me. There's something about the way he takes control, the way he refuses to let me overthink this, that makes every nerve ending in my body light up. His hands move to the hem of his t-shirt I borrowe
** Shawn's POV** "She sleeps on a single bed," I respond. "It's too small for the two of you that's why." Stella blinks. "A single bed? Why would you have a single bed in a guest room?" My jaw tightens. "It was already there when I bought the house. I never thought about upgrading it.""So that's why you told me to sleep in your room to begin with. There was never an option for me to sleep in Nancy's room." "No." "Okay. Fine." She crosses her arms. "I'll sleep in the living room then. I have no problem—I've slept in worse places." The thought of her curled up on my couch, vulnerable and in heat, makes something protective flare in my chest. "No," I say firmly. "I'll take the living room. You take the bedroom." "Shawn—" "That way you can lock yourself inside." The words come out rougher than I intended. "Keep yourself safe." From me, I don't add. But we both know that's what I mean. Her father is a mentor to me. He is the man who gave me a second chance when no on
**Stella's POV** My hands shake as I reach for the hem of my top. I hesitate, suddenly shy despite everything that just happened. But Shawn's eyes never leave mine. And there's something in his gaze—hunger, yes, but also something softer. Something that makes me feel brave. I pull the top over my head in one quick motion before I can lose my nerve. The black lace bralette is revealed—delicate straps, a plunging neckline that showcases my curves. It's beautiful and makes me feel confident without trying. Shawn goes completely still. His eyes darken impossibly further as they trace over the lace, to the swell of my nipples, and over every inch of exposed skin. "Fuck," he breathes. Then his mouth is on my collarbone, my shoulder, and then the upper curve of my breast. His hands span my waist, his thumbs stroking the skin just below the lace. I throw my head back, gasping, drowning in sensation. This is what I've been missing. This desperate need, this consuming desire







