Semua Bab Entangled With My Brother-in-law : Bab 31 - Bab 40

A cold, icy terror washed over me. My heart dropped into my stomach, and the thought of him staying away from me, never speaking to me again—it terrified me in a way I couldn’t explain. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to lose him, even though I couldn’t admit it. I snapped my head around to look at him, my body trembling, my mind racing. But his expression—it wasn’t teasing anymore. It was serious. It was real. The intensity in his eyes was raw, like he meant what he was saying. Noah… Noah meant it. He would walk away. I felt a wave of panic rise up in my chest. “No… no, you can’t—” I stopped myself, unsure of what to say, my words stumbling over each other. It didn’t matter, though. The silence between us felt deafening. He took a step back, like he was giving me space to process. But I couldn’t think straight. Not with him standing there, looking like that, as if he were ready to turn and leave for good. I didn’t want that. Before I even rea

I woke up to a soft press of lips against my forehead. My eyes flew open. Simon. My heart slammed into my chest as I sat up too quickly, the sheets falling from my shoulders. “When—when did you get back?” I asked, breathless. He smiled gently, brushing a knuckle against my cheek like he hadn’t completely ruined me last night. “Just before dawn. I missed you too much.” The words should’ve melted me. They used to. But all I felt was the aftershock of last night—the phantom of Noah’s body against mine, the way I came on my fingers, whispering the wrong man’s name into my pillow. A wave of guilt crashed down hard and fast. I tucked my legs under the covers instinctively, suddenly too aware of the throbbing ache still faint between my thighs. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, brushing hair away from my face. “Looks like you had the time of your life last night,” he said, light and teasing. I froze. My breath hitched just slightly—just enough to betray me. “What do you m

NANA The moment I spotted them—my parents—standing just past the arrival gates, a lump formed in my throat. My mother was waving eagerly, her other hand clutching the strap of her designer handbag. Beside her, my father stood tall and composed as always, dressed impeccably in a cream blazer and navy trousers, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly slicked back. The slight upward curve of his lips was subtle, but I caught it. “Mom!” I broke into a jog, slipping past a family and nearly tripping over a suitcase in my rush. Her arms wrapped around me before I could even breathe, and suddenly I was a little girl again—safe, grounded. She smelled like soft florals and warmth, and I didn’t realize how much I missed that scent until now. “My baby,” she whispered, kissing the side of my face several times. “You’ve lost weight—are you eating well?” I smiled through the lump in my throat. “Yes, Mom. I’m fine.” Simon approached us, giving my father a firm handshake before bowing slightly,

I swallowed hard. “You know what I think?” he whispered, leaning in. “I think you’ve been aching since that night I left you on edge. I think you’re still waiting for me to finish what I started.” My knees buckled. He caught me by the waist, dragging me close against him. I could feel him already—hard. He was always quick to anger. And now I could see it all over his face. Not rage exactly… but something close. Possessive. Dangerous. “You don’t even try to hide it,” he muttered, lips ghosting over my jaw. “You’re still waiting for me, aren’t you?” Before I could speak—before I could lie—his hands fisted in the hem of my dress and yanked it up. I gasped as air hit my thighs. Then my panties were gone. Just—gone. Stripped down in one rough tug, hanging from his fingers like a trophy before he dropped them at our feet. “Fuck,” he hissed, dipping his hand between my thighs. “You’re soaked.” “Wait—” My breath hitched—his fingers slid through the mess between my legs, slow and

I stood, offered my hand, and she took it like she always did. The study was quiet when we entered, dim with just the hallway glow spilling in. I didn’t close the door all the way. On purpose. Let him listen. Let him watch. Let him hear what it sounds like when someone fucks what he can’t have. I spun her gently, pressed her against a desk, and let my hands roam up the back of her thighs, bunching the fabric until I found her bare skin. Still warm. Still wet. Still mine. Her breath hitched. “Simon—” “I don’t want to talk,” I said, voice low, fingers already slipping between her legs. “I want to remind you.” She whimpered. I didn’t take my time. I undid my pants with one hand, shoved them down enough to free my cock, and thrust into her with a force that made her cry out. My hand clamped over her mouth. My other gripped her hip. Her walls welcomed me like they always did—tight, wet, addicted. “You’re not allowed to let anyone touch you,” I growled into her ear. “Do y