I’ve never read about sex. Not in this much detail, anyway. I had to reread the first sex scene four times—just to make sure I remembered every last word. Sex sounds… incredible. If it’s anything like the way it’s described in this book—being filled by a massive cock, the overwhelming sensation of it hitting a deep, secret spot, orgasm rising in waves until it crashes over you like a tide... A sudden snort pulls me from the page. I glance over my book. Aiden’s watching me, barely hiding a smirk. “What?” I ask, defensive. “Enjoying that?” he replies, brow raised like he already knows the answer. I narrow my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He leans back, smug. “Your cheeks are flushed, Ombra. Pupils dilated. You’re gripping that book like a lifeline, and your legs are pressed together like you’re trying to squeeze the tension out of them. I'd say you're thoroughly enjoying it.” My mouth opens, then closes. No witty retort comes to mind. “Mind your own business,
The plane is massive—sleek, extravagant, and drenched in wealth. Everything gleams. Leather seats that look softer than clouds, high-tech controls blinking silently, and a cool hum that vibrates through the polished floor. It feels more like a penthouse in the sky than an aircraft. Aiden guides me toward a wide window seat, his grip firm on my lower back. He straps me in himself, his jaw tight, brows furrowed like something’s chewing at the edge of his thoughts. Our eyes meet. Mine—wide and anxious. His—dark, unreadable, watching me like he’s trying to figure out exactly which wire to cut before I detonate. He seems.. calculated. "Do you want a wine?" he asks suddenly, voice casual, too casual. "Or do you want to try something stronger?" I hesitate. I glance across the aisle, toward the two women in red and black skimpy clothes that definitely don’t work for any airline I’ve ever heard of. One is currently straddling the armrest of Lucas’ chair, pouring something straight into his
Danika Addison runs into my bathroom like she owns the place—like every inch of it was made for her. She’s laughing, wild and beautiful, and that sound lodges itself somewhere deep in my chest. She doesn’t even bother closing the door behind her. Just slips in like she belongs here. And fuck… maybe she does. I watch the empty doorway for a second longer than I should, my heart hammering against my ribs as I finish changing. Italy will be warm. Elegant. We have to look the part. I throw on a pair of fitted black trousers, button up a dark shirt, and slide my new sunglasses onto my head. I’m styling my hair in front of the mirror when my eyes flick to the crack in the bathroom door. The shower is on. Steam curls into the room like a siren’s invitation. My body stills. Goddamn it. I mean, I've seen her naked before.. I've seen all her parts, but I would literally murder anyone to see them again. Her body is the kind of art that makes men weak, makes monsters crawl out of their cag
I wake up in a bed—but not my own. Disoriented, I lie still for a full minute, trying to piece together what the hell happened. My body feels heavy, fogged over with sleep, and there’s something different in the air. A scent. Dark, masculine, intoxicating. My sheets… they feel strange beneath my fingers. Softer. Thicker. Too luxurious to be mine. I groan, pressing my face into the pillow just as the scent hits me even harder—woodsy, clean, expensive. I slowly open my eyes. This is not my room. I don’t have deep green sheets that look like they belong in a luxury hotel. I don’t have bare, beige walls or a professional-looking desk in the corner stacked with files and documents. And I definitely don’t own a floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with hardbound legal texts that probably weigh more than I do. I turn toward the figure standing against the bedroom door, arms crossed. He’s watching me like he’s been there for hours—silent, brooding, unmoving. Aiden Abbott. Oh fuck. I’m in
"How is David?" Aiden asks instead as he sits down at the table. I move to sit next to him, my legs aching from standing so long today, but he stops me with a single word—calm, commanding, distant. "Stand." He doesn’t even glance at me. Just that cold, indifferent word, and I freeze, staring at the back of his head like it betrayed me. Emma’s sitting beside Henry, a smug smirk playing at her lips. Across from them, Daniel chats with Isla, who throws me the quickest look of pity before bowing her head again. My arms fold across my chest, sourness radiating off me like acid. I stand there behind Aiden like his obedient pet, which—thanks to the thick collar around my throat—I technically am. I feel ridiculous in this motorcycle jacket, but it's not like I can just take it off. My bra isn't even on properly. With every tiny shift of movement, the coarse material scrapes over my nipples. It’s a quiet torment that only I feel. "His leg is broken. He's in the hospital now, but it does
We race through the thick forest, trees whipping past us in a blur of green, wind slapping at our faces. Both boys are laughing like maniacs, their engines roaring as if the world doesn’t exist beyond this adrenaline-fueled moment. My arms stay tight around Aiden’s waist, but my body—my mind—is on edge, coiled tight from everything that just happened. My heart pounds wildly. It’s not just the race or the speed or the thrill. Aiden has seen my naked body. Every inch of it. He’s touched me. Made me moan. Made me ache for more. If anyone ever finds out... It's also really unfair, because I haven't seen his naked body. The only dick I've ever seen was Henry's... And I just think I need a visual improvement. Aiden would be better. Bigger. Hotter. I can feel it, even now. His body, his presence—it screams dominance and sex. And now that I’ve had a taste, I crave more. But I can't let myself spiral. Not yet. Not when a bigger distraction plants itself in my brain: Italy. The name alo