บททั้งหมดของ Stalked By My Boyfriends Best Friend: บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Dante’s POVI reach over, grabbing the book from the table and handing it to her. “Page 231, right? That’s where you left off,” I say, smiling down at her. She gets comfortable, snuggling into my lap as she flips open to the page. A small, exaggerated yawn escapes her lips before she peers up at me with a playful grin.“Read to me,” she says, her eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint I’ve come to love.I sigh softly, knowing I can’t resist her when she asks like that. Nodding, I start reading aloud, the words flowing easily. She holds the book steady while I keep one hand possessively cupping her breast, the other resting between her thighs, teasing her gently. I can feel her pulse quicken under my touch, her hips subtly shifting, seeking more friction.I want to stay like this—wrapped up in her warmth, feeling her respond to me—but there’s too much unsaid between us. As much as I crave this moment, I know we can’t avoid the conversation any longer. There’s something bigger I nee

Dante POVI reach out and gently tilt her chin up so she’s looking directly at me. “Why do you think I haven’t brought up anal?” I ask, my voice soft but firm. “I saw how your body tensed when Justin casually mentioned it once. I knew immediately it was a hard limit for you.”Her cheeks flush, and I laugh. “Am I wrong?” I ask, though I already know the answer.She looks around, embarrassed, and shakes her head.“I also noticed you skip those parts in your books—the ones with anal scenes. You couldn’t even read about it without discomfort.” I grin, feeling a little self-conscious about how deeply I’ve studied her, but it’s important she knows. “And when you say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ but you don’t really mean it, your lip curls up, just a little. You try to hide it, but you fail every time. It’s a dead giveaway.”She rolls her eyes, laughing. “Okay, so you know my body better than I do.”“Exactly. And you really need to stop smirking when you’re being a brat,” I tease, winking at her.“It’s ha

This is the start of Lilly and Callum's storyCallum - 18 Years OldWaking up feels like clawing my way out of a grave. My body is leaden, pinned to the sagging mattress by the weight of something I can’t name. The air reeks of sweat, stale smoke, and something sour—vomit maybe, or the leftovers of another night wasted in this filthy room. Everything around me is a distorted blur, like looking through cracked glass. The dim light from the cracked blinds barely cuts through the haze, illuminating the chaos I’ve surrounded myself with—empty bottles, burned foil, crumpled syringes, and piles of clothes that haven’t seen a wash in weeks.This time, it’s different. I can feel it in my bones, in the way my heart races and my skin crawls as if there are a thousand invisible insects burrowing under my flesh. I’ve woken up after bad trips before—dozens of times, maybe hundreds. Every time, I’ve brushed myself off, forced my way through the fog, and found my way back to the poison that put me t

Callum 2 years earlierThe phone call ends, and I shove the last of my belongings into a battered duffel bag. There’s not much to pack; I’ve been living out of this bag for years, trying to outrun the weight of my past. But nothing makes a difference, not here. Not anywhere. This place was supposed to be a fresh start, but it’s as hollow as every other attempt. Maybe these new clubs will be different. Maybe this will be the answer.For over fifteen years, I’ve been trying to find a way to fix the fucked-up situation my mother and sister were trapped in. To help women who’ve been dragged through the same hell. And finally, I think I’ve found it—or at least the beginning of it.The streets are quiet as I head toward the train station, my boots scuffing against the pavement. The early hour cloaks the world in a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hum of a distant car. It’s better this way. I need the quiet to figure out my next move. This guy—Dante—is a mystery. All I know is th

LillyPain drags me from the depths of unconsciousness, its sharp tendrils gripping every inch of my body. My ribs ache with each shallow breath, and a dull throb pulses behind my eyes. But beneath it all, there’s warmth—thick, heavy, unfamiliar. The softness of the mattress envelops me, the weight of a lavish duvet pressing gently against my battered frame. It’s so unlike the cold, hard surfaces I’ve grown accustomed to. For a fleeting moment, I think I’m dreaming.I try to sit up, a low groan escaping my lips as the effort sends fresh waves of pain coursing through me. Before I can go any further, a hand presses gently against my shoulder, halting me.“Slow down, you’re hurt,” a deep voice says softly, steady and calm, though it carries an undertone of quiet strength. My gaze darts upward, locking onto the man beside me.“Callum,” he says with a faint smile, as though sensing my hesitation. “In case you forgot my name.”Callum. The memory rushes back—his towering frame blocking out