로그인For the past three months I’ve been living at Vale Manor, sorting through the private library collection for Lucas and his partner. The job came through a university contact, and I jumped at it. Quiet work, beautiful old house, good pay. What I didn’t plan on was them.
They’ve been together for years. Anyone can see it in the way they move around each other, comfortable, possessive, warm. I told myself I was just curious. Academically curious. Then I saw them together one day and everything changed. It happened by accident the first time. I took a wrong turn on my way back from the garden with a stack of books and ended up at the tall windows of the sunroom. They didn’t see me. Lucas had Theo pressed against the big wooden table, shirt open, mouth on his neck. The sounds they made stuck in my head for days. After that, I started finding reasons to walk that way. Then I started hiding on purpose. At first I told myself I would only watch for a minute, just to understand what real desire looked like up close. But minutes turned into longer sessions. I began noticing the exact times they liked to slip away to the sunroom after lunch or in the late afternoon when the light poured through the tall glass walls. My work in the library suffered because my mind kept drifting back to them. The way their voices dropped, the easy laughter that sometimes turned into something much hungrier. I felt embarrassed every time I crept back to my room afterward, but the pull was stronger than the shame. Today I’m back again, heart already thudding before I even reach the curtains. The sunroom is flooded with warm light. Soft golden rays cut across the tiled floor and catch on the green plants that line the tall windows. I slip behind the heavy linen curtains where the fabric parts just enough to give me a clear view. My pulse is already racing. I know I should feel guilty, but the guilt only makes the heat between my legs sharper. It mixes with the excitement until I can barely tell the difference. My palms are damp. I wipe them on my skirt and settle into my usual spot, careful not to rustle the material. They’re both shirtless. Lucas stands near the center of the room, tall and lean, the light tracing the lines of his shoulders and chest. Theo kneels in front of him, looking up with that focused expression that always makes my stomach tighten. Theo’s hands slide up Lucas’s thighs as he takes him into his mouth, slow and deep. The wet sound of it hits me instantly, intimate and obscene in the quiet sunroom. Lucas lets out a low groan, fingers threading through Theo’s hair, guiding him but not forcing. His hips rock forward in a lazy rhythm, like he’s savoring every second. “God, your mouth,” Lucas murmurs. “You always look so good like this.” Theo hums around him and takes him deeper, eyes closed in obvious pleasure. His own cock strains against his pants, hard and ignored for now. I watch the way Lucas’s stomach tightens with every stroke, the subtle flex of muscle, the way his head tips back for a moment before he looks down again. The shine of spit on Lucas’s shaft when Theo pulls back to lick around the head, tongue swirling deliberately, makes my mouth go dry. I can hear every small sound — the soft suck, the gentle breaths, the occasional wet pop when Theo pulls off to stroke him with his hand before diving back in. My hand moves before I can talk myself out of it. I slide it down the front of my loose skirt, under my panties, and find myself already slick. The first touch makes me suck in a ragged breath. I’m soaked, embarrassingly so. My fingers glide easily over my clit, and I start circling slowly, matching the pace of Theo’s mouth. Each pass sends little sparks up my spine. I bite my lip hard to stay quiet, but my breathing is already getting heavier. I press my thighs together around my hand, then spread them slightly so I can slip two fingers inside myself. The fullness feels good, but it’s nothing compared to what I’m watching. They shift. Lucas pulls Theo up and kisses him hard, tongues sliding, hands gripping each other’s backs and waists. It’s messy and urgent, the kind of kiss that looks like they’ve been holding back all day. Lucas’s hand slides down to squeeze Theo’s ass, pulling their bodies flush. I can see the outline of their cocks pressed together between them. Then Lucas turns him around, bends him over the wide cushioned bench, and yanks his pants down. Theo braces himself on his elbows, looking back over his shoulder with a grin that sends another rush of heat through me. His ass is smooth and firm, already marked faintly from Lucas’s fingers. I slip a third finger inside myself as Lucas lines up and pushes in. One smooth thrust and he’s buried. Theo moans, loud and rough, pushing back to take all of him. Lucas grips his hips and starts fucking him in steady strokes that make the bench creak softly under them. The rhythm is hypnotic — the way Lucas pulls almost all the way out before sliding back in, the flex of his hips, the way Theo’s back arches to meet every thrust. The sight is overwhelming. Skin against skin. The flex of Lucas’s muscles as he drives in. The way Theo’s cock hangs heavy and leaks onto the cushion with every thrust, a thin string of precum reaching down. I pump my fingers faster, thumb rubbing tight circles over my clit. My breath comes in short, hushed gasps. I’ve never felt anything this raw, this hungry. Every moan they make travels straight through me and settles low in my belly. I imagine what it would feel like to be in Theo’s place, bent over and filled so completely. The thought makes me clench hard around my fingers. “Harder,” Theo says, voice strained. “Come on, give it to me.” Lucas chuckles low and picks up speed, slamming into him now. The wet slap of their bodies fills the sunroom, steady and loud. Theo’s hand reaches back, gripping Lucas’s thigh, urging him deeper. Sweat glistens on their skin in the light. Lucas leans forward, changing the angle, and Theo’s moan turns into something broken and desperate. I can’t look away. My legs start shaking. I lean against the wall for support, fingers working frantically, chasing the same pleasure they’re lost in. My other hand presses against the curtain frame to steady myself. I’m so close it hurts. Lucas leans over Theo’s back, biting his shoulder as he reaches around to stroke him. “That’s it. Come on my dick. I want to feel you completely.” Theo curses and tenses. His whole body jerks as he comes, thick streaks landing on the cushion beneath him. Lucas follows right after, burying himself deep with a rough groan, hips stuttering through his release. The way they stay locked together afterward, breathing hard, Lucas pressing soft kisses to Theo’s shoulder, makes something twist warmly in my chest. The sight pushes me over. My orgasm crashes through me so suddenly I almost whimper out loud. Pleasure floods every nerve. My pussy clenches hard around my fingers, wetness coating my hand and dripping down my thigh. I ride it out, eyes still locked on them, chest heaving, knees weak. Waves keep rolling through me for several long seconds. I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep any sound from escaping. I’m still catching my breath, fingers slick, when Lucas lifts his head and looks straight toward the curtains. “You can come out now, Zoe.” My stomach drops through the floor. I have been caught.For the past three months I’ve been living at Vale Manor, sorting through the private library collection for Lucas and his partner. The job came through a university contact, and I jumped at it. Quiet work, beautiful old house, good pay. What I didn’t plan on was them. They’ve been together for years. Anyone can see it in the way they move around each other, comfortable, possessive, warm. I told myself I was just curious. Academically curious. Then I saw them together one day and everything changed. It happened by accident the first time. I took a wrong turn on my way back from the garden with a stack of books and ended up at the tall windows of the sunroom. They didn’t see me. Lucas had Theo pressed against the big wooden table, shirt open, mouth on his neck. The sounds they made stuck in my head for days. After that, I started finding reasons to walk that way. Then I started hiding on purpose. At first I told myself I would only watch for a minute, just to understand what real des
I reach for his belt, fingers clumsy with need, but Damien catches my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. His eyes fix on mine, smoldering and commanding.“Not yet,” he rasps. “You said every inch. Show me how bad you want it, Elena. Ride me.”He releases me, shifts back, and sits against the headboard, legs stretched out. In one smooth motion he shoves his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free—thick, heavy, veined, the head already glistening. It’s even bigger than I imagined, curving slightly, easily nine inches and so wide my pussy clenches at the sight.I crawl to him, thighs shaky. He grips my hips and pulls me over his lap so I’m straddling him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side. The blunt head of his cock nudges my soaked entrance, hot and insistent.“Sit down,” he orders. “Let me feel how greedy this cunt is for me.”I brace my hands on his broad shoulders and lower myself slowly. The thick head stretches me open, burning in the best way. I r
The next morning, my body still remembers every second of last night.I wake up aching in the best and worst ways. My thighs are sore, my nipples still sensitive from how he pinched and teased them. Every time I move, I feel the ghost of Damien’s fingers inside me, the low growl of his voice saying my full name right as I came.I should be furious. I should be terrified. Instead, I’ve spent half the night touching myself thinking about the masked stranger who turned out to be my stepfather’s enemy. The man who watched me for months. The man who made me beg.I hate how much I want him.By the time I drag myself downstairs for breakfast, the mansion feels colder than usual. Richard is at the head of the table, newspaper in one hand, coffee in the other. My mother sits beside him like a pretty ornament, barely looking at me.Richard doesn’t even glance up when I sit down. “You disappeared from the gala last night. Care to explain?”My stomach tightens. “Needed some air.”He finally looks
My body is still trembling, his two broad fingers buried deep inside me, when those five words hit like ice water.“Who the hell are you?”He doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he curls his fingers slowly, pressing against that spot that makes my knees buckle. A fresh wave of pleasure rips through me even as panic claws at my chest.“Shh,” he murmurs, voice dark and amused. “You’re so close, Elena. Don’t ruin it now.”Hearing my full name again in that low, commanding tone sends another shameful throb through my core. I hate how much my body likes it.I grab his wrist, trying to push his hand away, but he’s stronger. He pins my wrist against the wall with his free hand and keeps going, slow, deliberate movements that make soft sounds echo through the quiet suite.“Stop,” I gasp, even as my hips betray me, rocking against his palm. “Tell me how you know my name.”He leans in, his masked face inches from mine. Close enough that I catch the sharp line of his jaw… the faint curl of a kn
The ballroom pulses with low music and the clink of expensive champagne glasses. Crystal chandeliers throw golden light across masks and gowns, but I feel like I’m suffocating in the middle of it all. I tug at the edge of my silver mask, making sure it’s still secure. The backless black dress hugs my body tighter than I expected when I slipped it on earlier, the fabric cool against my skin. Richard would lose his shit if he saw how much of my back it exposes. Perfect. That’s exactly why I wore it.Six months since Tom fucked my colleague in our bed. Six months of pretending I’m fine, smiling at family dinners while my stepfather lectures me about responsibility and “not embarrassing the Harrington name.” My mother just sits there, quiet as always, choosing peace over me. Tonight I’m done playing the good stepdaughter. I slipped away from our table some minutes ago, needing air that doesn’t taste like obligation. I’m leaning against a marble pillar, nursing a glass of champagne, w




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