登入Sia's POV. Three days passed before Mark called.I spent them in the hotel room like a ghost, leaving only for takeout coffee and the occasional walk along the wet sidewalks when the walls felt too close. My phone stayed mostly silent. Lucas never texted. Mark’s name did not appear until the third evening, just after seven, the same time he used to walk through our front door.I answered on the second ring.“Where are you?” His voice was quieter than before, scraped raw.I told him the name of the hotel. There was a long pause, then: “Can I come over?”He arrived twenty minutes later. When I opened the door he looked older somehow, unshaven, his eyes shadowed, wearing the same shirt he’d had on the morning after everything collapsed. He stepped inside, glanced once around the sparse room, and sat on the only chair. I remained standing near the window.For a while neither of us spoke. Rain tapped against the glass again, soft and steady, the same rain that had fallen the day Lucas and
Sia's POV. The silence after Mark’s voice was worse than any shout.He sat up fully, the sheet falling to his waist, staring at the two of us in the dim light as if the scene might rearrange itself into something that made sense. Lucas had already pulled back, his sweatpants yanked up, but there was no hiding what had just happened. I was still half-naked, my sleep shirt tangled under my breasts, my thighs wet and glistening, the unmistakable scent of sex heavy in the air between us.“Mark—” I started, my voice cracking.“Don’t.” The single word was flat, and dangerous. He swung his legs out of bed and stood, turning on the bedside lamp with a sharp click. Harsh yellow light flooded the room, exposing everything: my flushed skin, the fresh bruises on my hips, Lucas’s tense posture near the edge of the mattress, the wet spot spreading on the sheet where I had been lying.Mark’s eyes moved from my face to Lucas and back again. Disbelief, fury, and something like grief chased one anothe
Sia's POV. Evening settled over the house in the ordinary way it always had, lamps switched on, the smell of the simple pasta I had made filling the kitchen, Mark’s tired voice recounting the long meeting that had kept him late. Lucas sat across from us at the table, polite and relaxed, asking the right questions, laughing at the right moments. No one watching would have guessed that only hours earlier he had been buried inside me on the very bed Mark would soon sleep in, or that my body still carried the lingering ache and slick evidence of him.I moved through the motions of dinner like a woman performing a role she knew by heart. I passed the bread. I refilled Mark’s wine. Under the table my bare foot found Lucas’s ankle and rested there, a secret point of contact that sent a slow heat climbing up my leg. He did not look at me, but the muscle in his jaw tightened once, and I knew he felt it.After the dishes Mark stretched and declared himself finished with the day. Another early
Sia's POV. Morning arrived with rain tapping steadily against the windows. I woke before either of the men, my body still tender from the night before. The place between my legs felt swollen, used, and when I shifted under the sheet a faint wetness reminded me that Lucas’s release had stayed inside me while I slept beside my husband. The thought sent a low, guilty pulse of heat through my belly.Mark stirred as I slipped out of bed. He mumbled something sleep-rough and reached for me, but I was already on my feet. “Coffee,” I whispered, and he settled again without fully waking.Downstairs the kitchen was cool and quiet. I started the pot, then stood at the sink staring out at the wet street while the machine gurgled to life. Footsteps echoed on the stairs and Lucas appeared in the doorway shortly, wearing the same low sweatpants, bare-chested, his hair mussed from sleep. His eyes found mine immediately. Without a word he crossed the kitchen, took my face in both hands, and kissed m
Sia's POV. Mark came home just after seven, the same tired smile on his face, the same soft kiss at the door. I met him in the hallway still dressed in the jeans and sweater from earlier, though underneath I had already changed into the soft cotton panties Lucas had watched me put on. “Long day,” Mark said, dropping his bag by the stairs. “I’m starving.”Lucas appeared from the living room, easy and casual, as if the bed upstairs did not still hold the imprint of what we had done only hours before. The three of us moved through the ordinary rituals of evening, takeout containers on the table, wine poured, conversation that never once touched the truth sitting heavy between Lucas and me. I laughed at the right moments but under the table my knee brushed Lucas’s once, deliberate, and the brief contact sent a fresh pulse of heat between my legs.After dinner Mark stretched and declared he was done for the night, another early start tomorrow. He kissed me on the temple, told Lucas good
Sia's POV. I woke to the low murmur of voices downstairs. Morning light had already filled the bedroom, soft and golden through the half-open curtains. Mark’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool. For a moment I lay still, listening, and the events of the previous night crashed back over me in a single heavy wave: Lucas’s hands on my hips, the stretch of him inside me, the way I had come apart on his cock while my husband slept only one floor above, the sticky evidence of it had been rinsed away in the bathroom, but my body still remembered every inch. I sat up slowly, my thighs feeling tender. A faint bruise was already forming on the soft skin of one hip where his fingers had gripped too hard. I pressed my thumb against it and felt a dark little thrill. Downstairs the voices continued—Mark’s easy laugh, Lucas’s lower reply, ordinary morning sounds. I pulled on a robe, tied it tight, and went down. They were in the kitchen. Mark stood at the counter pouring coffee; Lu
Mia’s POV. Morning light filtered through the basement egress windows, soft and golden, painting Jax’s sleeping face in warm tones. I woke up tangled in his sheets, my body deliciously sore in ways I had only dreamed about. My cunt throbbed with a deep, satisfying ache. My thighs were sticky wit
Isabella’s POVThe next day passed in a haze of guilt and aching need.I went through my usual routines of helping with morning Mass, teaching the children’s catechism class, singing in the choir. But everything felt different. Every time I looked at the altar, I remembered Father Lucian’s hands on
Layla's POV.The silence in the living room was suffocating. Mom stood frozen near the doorway, her eyes locked on her daughter’s, pregnant body. My rounded five-month belly rose and fell with each shaky breath. My heavy breasts, fuller and more sensitive than ever, glistened faintly where a few dr
Layla's POV.The front door slammed behind me with a finality that made my stomach drop.I was barely inside the house when I felt it, that heavy, watchful presence that had always made me feel both safe and trapped at the same time. Marcus was already standing in the wide entryway, arms crossed ov







