All Chapters of Forbidden Affairs : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

She hadn’t planned to come. That was the lie she kept telling herself. The moment the invitation reached her inbox, Naomi hesitated only long enough to reread the name at the bottom—Marcus Vale—before replying with a quiet yes. A literary retreat. Two nights at his personal townhouse just outside the city. Three students. Private discussion. Focused writing time. She could’ve pretended it was about the work. Could’ve told herself it was academic. But deep down, buried beneath her pride and perfectly formatted response, she knew why she was going. She wanted him to touch her again. This time without pulling away.The townhouse was quiet when she arrived. Beautiful but minimal. Dark wood floors, soft gray walls, shelves lined with books that had seen hands and time. She was led to a guest room upstairs and told to settle in. The other two students were already there, polite enough but distracted, eager to impress. Professor Vale was in the kitchen when she first saw him, sleeves rolled,

Talia had been married long enough to know when to stop expecting surprises. Dinners were predictable. Sex had settled into a rhythm of obligation and soft sighs. Conversations were mostly calendar updates and reminders to refill prescriptions or confirm travel plans. Her husband, Richard, was a good man, loyal and hard-working, but boring in the worst way. He was the kind of man who said “I love you” without looking up from his phone and kissed her forehead more often than her lips. She had convinced herself that contentment was enough. That she didn’t need fire anymore. Until Cameron walked through the front door.He was introduced casually, as if he wasn’t about to burn the foundation of her marriage to ash. “This is Cameron, my new assistant,” Richard said, pulling him into the house after work one evening. Talia glanced up from her book, already halfway into a glass of wine. She expected another intern-type—awkward, forgettable. Instead, she saw a man who couldn’t have been older

It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was exactly what she needed. Talia had never felt so alive, so entirely in control and out of it all at once. The more wrong it became, the more it ignited her. And Cameron, God help her, Cameron never hesitated. He never asked questions. He never flinched. Every time she called, he came. Every time she teased, he followed. Every time she gave him a part of her body, he took it like he deserved it. Like he had been waiting for her to finally notice he had always been watching.Tonight, she didn’t want the kitchen counter. She didn’t want hurried minutes in the garage or the backseat of the car while her husband stood three feet away on a call. No. She wanted him in the one place no other man had ever touched her. The one space Richard thought belonged to him and him alone. Their bed. The bed where he made love to her like it was a checklist. The bed where she had faked orgasms and counted ceiling tiles. The bed where she had once cried herself to

Talia woke with sore thighs and the scent of another man still between her legs. Her husband was gone, already dressed and halfway through his morning routine. She could hear his muffled voice from the bathroom, speaking into a Bluetooth headset, likely confirming another deal, another investor, another distraction from the hollow marriage they pretended still held meaning. The sun streamed through the curtains, catching the sheen of sweat still on her skin. She pressed her legs together and bit her lip. It wasn’t guilt that curled inside her. It was hunger. Residual. Insatiable. Still burning.Cameron had left just hours ago. They had barely spoken after he’d taken her against the bathroom wall, filling her with his release and then wiping her clean with her silk scarf. No affection. No hesitation. Only heat. They were past the point of flirting. Past teasing. Past hiding it well. The lies they told themselves were thinner now. This wasn’t an affair of convenience anymore. This was c

The air inside Roman’s office was thick with the scent of arousal and milk. Nora’s breath came in short, shaky bursts as she leaned forward against the polished desk, bare from the waist up, blouse crumpled on the floor beside her bra. Her breasts, still slick with his mouth, tingled with a blend of relief and new, aching hunger. Roman hadn’t touched her below the waist yet, but her thighs were trembling, her soaked panties sticking to her skin, her need screaming beneath the weight of the tension he built with every whispered order. She felt unsteady, unraveling in a way that was terrifying and addictive. Roman stood behind her, composed but alert, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, watching her with a hunger that hadn’t been sated. And then the door opened.Neither of them had heard the footsteps. Neither of them had even thought to lock the door. Nora gasped, spinning halfway around as Ellis stepped into the room.He stopped cold.His eyes took in the