All Chapters of Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections): Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The apartment was quiet.Warm. Lived-in.Nina stood in the kitchen barefoot in one of Callum’s worn T-shirts, sipping coffee from a chipped mug she refused to replace. There were fresh flowers on the windowsill , lilies and wild grass from the bodega around the corner. He brought them home yesterday, with two croissants and no explanation.They’d been here three weeks.Three weeks of slow mornings, faster nights, and learning the shape of a new kind of silence, not the aching kind they’d known alone, but the peaceful hush that came from no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop.Behind her, the soft creak of the hallway floorboards gave him away.“You always move like a damn panther,” she murmured without turning.Callum’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind. “And you always smell like vanilla and fucking heaven in the morning.”She smiled. “Your heaven needs coffee and deodorant.”He nuzzled her neck. “Still want to bend you over this counter.”She laughed but it melted int

Bella woke up to the sensation of fingers brushing along her bare arm—featherlight, reverent. She didn’t open her eyes right away. The room was bathed in silver light from the rain-washed windows, the storm finally quiet, leaving behind a hush that wrapped around them like a secret.Andrew lay behind her on the couch, one arm tucked beneath her pillow, the other drawing slow lines from her shoulder down to her wrist. His chest was pressed to her back, steady and warm. He hadn’t left.She smiled into the fabric of the pillow.“Are you watching me sleep?” she asked, voice hoarse with sleep.“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured against her hair. “You just looked peaceful. Like maybe the world didn’t hurt you here.”Bella’s smile faded.He was quiet after that, the weight of his words settling in the space between their bodies. She turned slowly to face him. His eyes were open now, stormy blue, sharp even in half-light. His fingers traced the edge of her cheek.“Do you want coffee?” she whispe

Cassie Randolph had faced tougher judges, meaner ones, even a few openly sexist dinosaurs in her early days as a criminal defense attorney. But none of them were like Judge Jake Larsen.It wasn’t just his jaw, cut sharp like it had been carved from marble or the voice that moved through a courtroom like smoke over a lake. It wasn’t the tailored charcoal suits or the cuffs of his sleeves rolled just slightly up when court went late. It was the way he looked at her. Like he was trying not to look. And failing.Cassie had been standing in front of him for ten minutes, arguing a motion to suppress, when she saw it again, that flicker in his dark blue eyes. It wasn’t quite desire. It was control. Carefully measured restraint. The kind that didn’t come easily. The kind that suggested he’d already imagined what her mouth tasted like and was now actively denying himself the memory.And God help her, she wanted to test that control until it broke.“Counselor.” His voice snapped her out of it.

Cassie stood on the steps of the courthouse, wind teasing the hem of her pencil skirt. Her case with Judge Halbrook had ended, and she should’ve been focused on the next brief. But her mind was somewhere else.Back in that paneled office.Back in Jake’s arms.It had been four days since she'd left his chambers flushed and disheveled. Four days of carefully avoiding his courtroom and trying not to check her phone like an addict. There’d been no texts. No calls.Not a whisper of him.She told herself that was good.Safer.Cleaner.But her chest ached every time she remembered the way he’d touched her like she was the only woman who ever mattered. Or how he’d promised, “Next time, in my bed.”She didn’t know if that next time would ever come.Until now.“Counselor Randolph.”Her heart stuttered at the voice behind her.She turned.Jake Larsen stood at the bottom of the courthouse steps, looking less like a judge and more like a temptation in a tailored gray suit. His tie was loose, the t

The room was thick with the scent of sex, tension, and barely-contained emotion. Kaya’s breath hadn’t quite returned to her as she leaned forward, her cheek resting against the mahogany surface of the President’s desk, his desk—where American policy was decided, and now, where she had completely fallen apart under his mouth.Dolan stood behind her, not touching her, but close enough that the heat of his body wrapped around her like a shroud. She could hear the subtle sound of his belt being undone, the zipper slowly lowering.She turned her head slightly. “Still think I need protecting?”His voice was rough, nearly hoarse. “I think I’ve been lying to myself for months.”“About what?”He stepped forward, one hand on her lower back, the other sliding over her hip. “About how much I want you. About how long I could keep my hands off you.”Kaya arched back slightly, pressing her ass against the rigid line of his arousal. “Then stop pretending.”The words snapped something.His hand grippe