로그인Mia's heels echoed in the marble lobby like sharp gunshots at the end of the world. Each hurried step beat in rhythm with her heart—nervous, out of sync. First day. Of course she was going to be late. Damn smudged makeup, damn Uber stuck at the light, damn skirt too tight. Or maybe... not so damn after all.The building was a monument to luxury and power. Mirrored glass, receptionists in black suits with empty smiles. She ran to the elevator and got in at the exact moment the doors were closing. A body was already inside—tall, imposing, smelling of dark wood and sin. Mia didn't even look, pressed the button for the 8th floor, and took a deep breath.Only then did she feel the gaze.It burned. Not like the sun's heat, but like a slow, dirty fire, sliding over her skin like invisible fingers. It made her shiver. The man beside her didn't say a word. He just turned his face toward her, slowly, like a predator studying its prey. Mia felt her heart race.She glanced at him.Dark suit. Whit
The morning breeze blew softly on the balcony, carrying the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the salt of the air and the woody perfume that now seemed imprinted on Alana's skin. She was sitting in one of the wide chairs, wearing only Heitor's black shirt on her body—too big, slipping off one shoulder, leaving a whole thigh exposed. Legs crossed, the hot mug between her hands, her gaze lost in the sky still tinged with gold.Inside the apartment, the muffled sound of the shower. But even away from the bed, she still felt her body vibrating with the touches from the early hours.Heitor had taken her completely. In every sense. Her body ached in delicious places, marked by fingers, bites, moans, and promises neither of them had dared to say out loud. Yet.The glass door opened. He appeared, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair damp, his broad chest still with droplets running down. His gaze... that gaze. As if seeing her for the first time. As if she were the only
Friday arrived more slowly than Alana would have liked. Each minute of the week seemed to drag on, while she counted the hours until she could see him again. She slept with headphones on, listening to the dirty audio messages he sent. She touched herself every night, with her eyes closed, whispering his name as if invoking a spell.Now, there in front of the mirror in her room, Alana carefully adjusted the dress she had chosen: red, tight, with a side slit. And, of course, without panties. Just as he had asked.She knew exactly what she did with that body. And she knew, even more, what Heitor did with hers.She called the car, checked her lipstick, and got out with her heart pounding. And wet.With each kilometer to his apartment, her imagination created new versions of the same scene: him opening the door, pulling her inside without a word, pressing her against the wall, tearing off her dress and burying himself inside her as if he were starving. And if she knew Heitor even a little
The bedroom door slammed shut behind Alana with a soft, muffled crack. She leaned against it for a few seconds, still with her eyes closed, as if the air inside was too heavy with everything they had just experienced. Her body still trembled. Her skin still burned from Heitor's touches.He had fucked her like no one else. With force, with precision, with raw need. And now, alone in the room, lying with the sheets clinging to her warm skin, Alana wanted more.But he was on another floor of the hotel, probably taking a cold shower or staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what the hell it was that they had just experienced.In the following days, they returned to real life. Alana in her city, taking care of architectural projects. Heitor returning to the family business, immersed in meetings and reports. Neither of them said it had been a mistake.But neither of them said they wanted to repeat it.At least... not with words.On Tuesday night, her cell phone vibrated. An audio mess
The room was silent. Only the sound of the sea drifted in through the cracks of the balcony, cradling the burning tension between them. Heitor didn't move immediately. He stood there, his back to the door, staring at Alana as if he was still trying to decide whether to cross that invisible line of control. But the truth was he'd already crossed it.She was standing in the middle of the room, the green dress flowing over her hips as if it were made to fall. Her eyes, dark and provocative, were fixed on him with the boldness of someone who already knew exactly what she wanted."Are you just going to stand there looking at me… or are you going to really touch me?" she provoked, her voice hoarse, low, with a slight tremor of desire.Heitor took two long strides. One single movement was enough to grab her by the waist and press their bodies together. His mouth fell upon hers with hunger, and this time there was no hesitation.It was a wet kiss, urgent tongue, teeth dragging on lips. His ha
The sea lapped gently against the rocks, and the golden late-afternoon sky seemed to paint a movie-worthy scene for the wedding. Alana adjusted the emerald satin dress on her body, feeling the wind caress her exposed skin as she took her place next to the bride. She looked beautiful—her hair loose in natural waves, eyes lightly lined, and a woody perfume that always left a trail wherever she went.But none of that prepared her for the moment she saw him.He appeared in the background, walking slowly between the chairs arranged for the ceremony. Tall. Broad shoulders under a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The stubble shaped his face with a virility that hurt to look at. And his eyes... hazel, intense, fixed on her as if recognizing her from somewhere more intimate than the present.It was Heitor. The bride's older brother. The recently divorced man everyone avoided mentioning too much, as if he were wrapped in an aura of silence and mystery. And now he was there, watching her as i







