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THE FIREMAN’S HUGE HOSE 1

Author: Siemuri Daniella
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-29 19:33:27

CALLIE

The third fire this week.

The third fire I’d caused in my apartment complex this week. All because the sight of him in his firefighter uniform with his muscles flexing was a turn-on for me.

I touched myself to the memory every night.

“Sir, apartment 3B… my kitchen is on fire,” I said, touching his bicep and fighting the urge to run my fingers on it.

The neighbors were rushing out of their rooms as the firemen stopped the fire.

I didn’t mean for it to get this bad but it went out of hand.

“Are you hurt, miss?” He asked.

He was a 6’5 foot tall man with a muscular build and the kind of presence that made people move out of the way without being asked. Broad shoulders, thick arms that strained his fire-resistant uniform, and legs that moved with purpose. His jaw was square, usually clenched, and his eyes were always dark and unreadable.

Yeah, I know. I got a size and authority kink. Judge me as you please.

“A little. My kitchen and bathroom…” I said.

He rushed into
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    SELENE’S POV We pulled up outside a luxurious club where the music was deep and pulsing, like a slow heartbeat beneath the city. Inside, the air reeked of power and expensive liquor. We moved to the VIP section after the Don whispered something to the guards at the door. Inside, men in tailored suits — the Don’s fellow drug lords — nodded at each other with cold pleasantries in Italian, and every now and then, their eyes flicked toward me. I was wearing what the Don picked. A black bodycon dress so sheer it may as well have been mist. Thin, tight, and obscene in the wrong lighting. Underneath, only G-strings and two tiny patches covering my nipples. My entire body was on display, and they weren’t pretending not to look. I didn’t feel safe. Not until I hooked my hand into the Don’s arm, fingers wrapped around the muscle beneath his tailored jacket. His body didn’t react, but he let me hold on. The men kept staring. Their conversations thinned out one by one. A few stoo

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    SELENE’S POVHis voice wasn’t loud but it vibrated like a loaded gun pointed right between my legs. I climbed onto the bed and laid on my back.He stood there watching me, jaw tight and chest heaving like he was trying not to lose control.“You’re not Lucia,” he said, more to himself than to me.Lucia… that must be who hurt him.I nodded slowly. “I never was.”“She lied to me,” he muttered, walking forward. “She fucked my enemy and smiled in my face like she loved me. She plotted with him to kill me.”I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to interrupt the storm unraveling inside him.“I put a bullet through her head,” he said, stopping at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t hesitate.”He said it like he wanted to scare me off. But it only made me want him even more.He reached out and grabbed my ankle, dragging me down the mattress until my legs dangled off the edge. My breath caught as he stepped between them.“But I hesitated when I saw you in that dress. I saw a ghost and I wanted to kil

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    SELENE’S POV I got to his bedroom and shut the door behind me. There was a box on his bed with an emerald dress. Don must have sent these so I get ready and wait for him. The note attached said to put my hair in a bun, so I did. I rushed into the bathroom to freshen up and change into the dress. “I’m on my way,” Don texted. I waited eagerly, my thighs already damped. I took a photo of it and sent it to him. He responded with a thumbs up but that’s okay. He was not a man of many words. I paced the room, my heart thudding like I was about to be claimed. The dress hugged me tight, cut low enough to make me self-conscious and wet at the same time. After an hour, which felt like an eternity, the door pushed opened. The Don stepped in but froze at the door with his hand on the knob. “Welcome,” I smiled. He didn’t respond. He stared at me like I had grown horns. “Did I do something wrong?” He took a step back. “What are you wearing?” I hesitated, a bit confused.

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    DON’S POV I glanced at her exposed wet core and back at my laptop. I frowned at the message on my screen. “You fucking bastard. You lied to me about her death. Isn’t this Lucia?” The text read. A photo of Selene was attached to it. Lucia died alright. I made sure of it. She died by my hand and I personally buried her. She was the only woman I ever loved and bore a striking resemblance to Selene. Which was the exact reason I’ve been holding back from fucking her. I intended to break her, but doing that might hurt me as well. Lucia was the love of my life. I trusted her and she betrayed my trust not just by sleeping with my rival, but also plotting to take my life. I killed her and the rival Don the minute I found them entangled in bed. That was five years ago. “Thar isn’t Lucia,” I texted back. “I gave Lucia to you even though I loved her and you killed her. I’m keeping this one for myself,” the response. “Touch her and you’re dead,” I replied. I shut the l

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