Lahat ng Kabanata ng Steamy Sessions: A Rosy Forbidden Collection: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

He stepped away again, and my whole body leaned forward before I could stop it, the empty space ached like a bruise. But he knew that, he counted on it. “You hear that silence, Bunny?” His voice came from somewhere behind me—closer than before, and yet still just out of reach. “That’s the sound of you earning nothing.” I whimpered. “I could make it worse,” he said, and I believed him. “But then what would I do off-camera?” The heat in my stomach twisted into something darker. The kind of ache that didn’t just sit in your body—it possessed it. The leash gave a single tug, and I followed the pull instantly, crawling across the carpet on shaky limbs. My head bowed, breath shallow, thighs trembling from effort and denial. He didn’t touch me, he didn’t need to. I felt his dominance like gravity, pulling at every inch of me, every thought I had. He circled twice. “Tell them what you want.” I hesitated, my pride snapped its teeth. The leash yanked and I gasped.

I hadn’t told Layla anything, at least not yet. My mind was still actively reeling from the tension of my previous visit, and even though my wetness didn’t last it was an opening. I sat across from her in our favorite coffee shop, staring into my iced caramel macchiato like it was gonna give me answers. “Girl, why are you blushing like that?” Layla asked, sipping her drink and narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. “You look like you’ve been doing something pretty inappropriate.” My fingers tightened around the cup. “You remember that gynecologist you told me about? Dr. Jay Lee?” She perked up immediately. “Yeah? How can I forget the amazing hunk who helped me.” I stared at her. “What? Look, all I’m doing is appreciating God’s amazing craftsmanship. I know how less tensed i felt when his fingers dipped into my irritated coohie.” I groaned, but the heat rising in my cheeks made her gasp. “Oh my God. Aliyah. You went! How did it go” “Great,” I said quickly, heart

“You’re not good enough to work here. You lack the experience.”Jason’s voice was clipped, businesslike—like we weren’t sitting three feet apart at his dining room table last Sunday, pretending to be family.It would’ve been laughable, if it wasn’t so familiar. I graduated top of my class from an Ivy League. But sure. Not enough.I looked up, letting my gaze settle on him. I don’t know what I expected—he was my mother’s newest accessory.And my mother? Well, she never missed a chance to remind me I was a disappointment.Jason kept talking, his mouth moving like a puppet show on mute.I didn’t hear him. I only heard her.You’re a disgrace.An unattractive virgin with no social life. A fucking failure.I stood before he could finish his sentence, before I could be insulted again by someone who only saw me through her cracked mirror.The second I parked, I just sat there, staring at nothing.I got out.I didn’t bother locking the door. Nobody wanted a beat-up ‘02 rustbucket with a broken

Selene's mouth ghosted over mine again—this time, less teasing, more intent. She kissed me like she was devouring me in slow motion.Her hips rolled forward in a slow, deliberate grind, dragging her heat across the strain in my pants. I let out a strangled sound, one hand bracing on the armrest, the other still gripping her bare thigh like it was my only tether to Earth. "Relax," she whispered against my lips. "Let me take care of you." Her hand slid down my chest, nails catching just enough to make me arch into her touch. She moved lower, trailing fingers across the waistband of my sweats, toying with the hem—then up again. She smiled, watching me squirm beneath her. "You're so easy to read," she murmured. "I like that." I swallowed, chest heaving. "Is that a bad thing?" Selene shook her head, nose brushing mine. "Not at all. I want you to be honest and responsive." Her fingers slipped under my shirt, dragging it up slowly, revealing inch after inch of bare skin like she was

Troy ~ "What do you mean? She’s a freaking adult, why do I for some reason have to take care of her?” I asked, leaning forward placing my elbow on the desk. “I haven’t even met the girl before.” “Well, that’s part of your wife’s will. So if you want your shares you have to live with your step daughter, Lauren until her 23rd birthday.” Ross, my assistance informs me. I have this bubbling urge to fucking throw him out of my office or just fire his fucking ass, but this isn’t his fault. This was my own fucking doing. I knew Felicia had a daughter, she’d mentioned her briefly in our entire three years of dating and two months marriage, but she never delved deeper and the girl never visited us once. My relationship with Felicia was strictly business; contracted if you must add. I didn't want to end up with Bryce Monroe’s daughter, Isabel and she was tired of going on blind dates. My wife—ex wife had been sick for the entirety of our relationship, after four years together I