Semua Bab FORBIDDEN LUSTS (Erotica collection): Bab 271 - Bab 280

The rehearsal dinner was supposed to be perfect — string lights twinkling over the beach, long tables covered in white linen, the sound of waves mixing with soft laughter and clinking glasses. My sister was glowing in a flowing white dress, already tipsy from the celebratory champagne, flitting between guests like the perfect bride-to-be. I was seated next to Torin because the seating chart had put the bridesmaid (me) beside the groom. Of course it had.The moment I sat down, the air shifted.Torin was in a crisp white linen shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the fabric slightly damp from the humid evening air and clinging to the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. His cologne — that warm, woody scent I’d known for years — mixed with the salt of the sea and the faint citrus from his drink. When he turned to greet me, his knee brushed mine under the table and stayed there, warm and deliberate.“You look beautiful tonight, Ana,” he said quietly, voice low enough that only I could h

I couldn’t sleep.The villa was quiet except for the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the ceiling fan above my bed. The sheets were cool against my heated skin, but they did nothing to calm the ache between my legs. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, replaying every moment from the rehearsal dinner — Torin’s thigh pressed against mine under the table, his fingers slipping under my dress, the way he’d tasted when he kissed me on the beach. My pussy was still throbbing, still wet, still clenching around nothing every time I remembered the way he’d looked at me when he sucked his fingers clean.Guilt sat heavy in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. This was my sister’s fiancé. The man she was marrying in less than twenty-four hours. The man who had been part of our family for years, always kind, always steady, always looking at me a second too long when no one was watching.And I wanted him so badly it hurt.I got up.The villa was dark. I slipped o

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and perfect, the kind of day my sister had dreamed about her whole life. The villa was buzzing with activity — hair stylists, makeup artists, florists, and excited relatives moving through the halls like a well-organized storm. My sister was radiant in her robe, laughing with her bridesmaids, completely oblivious to the fact that I’d spent the night before with her fiancé’s come still drying on my thighs.I couldn’t look at her without feeling the guilt twist like a knife in my gut.But I also couldn’t stop the ache between my legs every time I caught Torin’s eye across the room.He looked devastating in his wedding attire — crisp white shirt, tailored trousers, the same quiet intensity in his gaze that had ruined me the night before. Every time our eyes met, the air crackled. I was wearing a pale blue bridesmaid dress that hugged my body, the neckline low enough that the faint bite marks he’d left on my collarbone were barely hidden by makeup.

The reception was still in full swing when we slipped away again.The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses — all of it felt distant, like it belonged to another world. My sister was dancing with her new husband, glowing and oblivious, while I followed Torin through the garden path toward the honeymoon villa at the far end of the resort. My legs were still shaky from the earlier encounter, my pussy tender and leaking his come with every step. The thin fabric of my bridesmaid dress clung to my skin, damp with sweat and the evidence of what we’d done.We didn’t speak until the door of the honeymoon villa clicked shut behind us.Then Torin turned, eyes dark and feral, and pushed me against the wall.This time there was no hesitation.His mouth crashed down on mine — rough, claiming, tongues sliding together in a desperate, filthy kiss. His hands shoved my dress up around my waist, fingers hooking into my ruined panties and ripping them down my legs. I stepped out of them, heart ra

The next evening the house smelled like garlic bread and red wine. Noah had cooked again — chicken parmesan, my favorite since I was twelve. We ate at the kitchen table like always, but the air between us felt different tonight. Thicker. Every time our eyes met over the rim of our glasses, something unspoken passed between us. I kept catching him looking at the thin straps of my sundress, at the way the fabric clung to my breasts when I leaned forward. I didn’t adjust it. I wanted him to look.After dinner we moved to the living room with the rest of the wine. We put on one of those old family movies we used to watch when I was little — the one with the talking dog and the road trip. I curled up on the couch beside him, closer than I probably should have. My bare thigh pressed against his jeans. He didn’t move away.Halfway through the movie, the wine had loosened my tongue and my inhibitions. I turned to him, the glow of the TV painting soft shadows across his face.“I’ve never felt