All Chapters of Forbidden Affairs : Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

The sun was cruel that morning. I watched it pour through the windshield as I parked in front of her house. The white one with the rose bushes. Too clean. Too quiet. The kind of house women like her pretended they belonged in.She hadn’t texted me.Not once since the wedding.But she hadn’t said no either.And I wasn’t the kind of man who waited for permission.I killed the engine and got out, carrying the small black box wrapped in gold ribbon. A gift. An excuse. She wouldn’t ask for one, but I knew she’d open the door.The ring camera blinked red as I rang the bell.It only took a few seconds.Clarissa opened the door barefoot in a cream silk robe that barely clung to her shoulders. No makeup. Wet hair. Her legs bare and smooth. Her eyes flicked to the box in my hand, then back to my face.“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.“Your husband around?” I asked.“He’s out. Golf.”I stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. The air smelled like roses and coffee. She closed

The silence in her house told me everything.No lights on. No soft music. No wine glass on the counter. No Clarissa waiting with parted lips and trembling thighs.She was hiding.I kicked the door shut behind me and dropped my keys on the console.“Clarissa,” I called out, voice low. Calm. Dangerous.No answer.I walked through the house slow, listening. The place reeked of denial. She’d tried to wash me off the walls, off her body. But I could still smell myself in the air. On the couch. In her sheets.I found her in the bathroom. The door was cracked. Steam curled out like smoke from a gun barrel.She was in the tub.Eyes closed. Face turned to the ceiling. Bubbles covered her chest, but not the bruises I left on her hips. Her legs were bent. One arm rested on the rim of the tub. The other held a glass of scotch.When she opened her eyes, she didn’t flinch.“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, voice quiet.“You said that last time,” I replied.“I meant it this time.”I steppe

Alina didn’t leave her room the next morning. Not because she was afraid of him—but because she was afraid of herself. She’d crossed a line. No, not crossed. She had sprinted past it, wet and trembling, legs shaking from the orgasm she gave herself while thinking of him stroking that thick, brutal cock. And worse than her shame was the truth that pulsed underneath it. She didn’t want to take it back.Her nipples were still sensitive, her core sore in a way that felt criminal. But there was a more terrifying truth rising like a tide beneath her skin: she wanted him to catch her again. She wanted him to open that door and drag her inside, press her against the wall, say nothing as he stripped her down and showed her just how much he meant it when he whispered her name.By the afternoon, hunger won. She tiptoed out barefoot again, nerves tight, every creak of the wood like a gunshot in the silence. The kitchen was empty. A note sat on the counter.Session postponed again. No contact with

The clock ticked past midnight.Alina stood in front of his door, barefoot, heart pounding so loud it drowned everything else. The hallway was dark. Silent. No wind. No creak of boards beneath her. The entire world had collapsed into this moment.Her fingers trembled on the doorknob.She twisted it.The door was unlocked.She pushed it open.The room was lit only by a single lamp on the dresser. Warm golden light spilled across the bed. And there he was—Konstantin—sitting in the chair near the window, wearing nothing but black sweatpants and stillness.He didn’t speak.He didn’t smile.His eyes moved to her body and stayed there.She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the trench coat. One tug and it would fall. One word and she’d be exposed. But she waited.She needed him to speak first.He didn’t.So she dropped the coat herself.It whispered to the floor like a confession.She stood there naked, her skin tingling, nipples hard, thighs already slick. Her mouth was dry, but she didn’t ne

The whistle echoed in her ears long after he left.She stayed in the pool, floating in silence, limbs heavy, cunt still twitching. Her body was raw. Wet in more ways than one. And her mind replayed everything—his fingers, his grip, the brutal stretch of him inside her, and the sound of his voice when he said, “You don’t get to say no now.”He had ruined her.She should have felt shame. She should have slipped out, dried off, and forgotten his face. Forgotten the way her thighs trembled at the memory of him grabbing her like property.But she didn’t.She wanted more.She craved it.So the next night, she returned.But not to the water.She climbed the lifeguard tower barefoot, naked beneath a flimsy sundress. The sky was navy blue, stars sharp above her, the scent of chlorine and salt thick in the air.She sat on the tall red chair like it was a throne. Spread her legs.And waited.It didn’t take long.He came from the shadows like a phantom.This time, he wasn’t in uniform. Just black