Semua Bab Craving Grace (An Extremely Hot Taboo Erotica Collection): Bab 11 - Bab 20

Chapter 5: Cruel LeverageThe quiet of the house is different now, heavier, charged with an almost palpable anticipation. The parents are gone for a trip. His mother, her face a mixture of lingering concern for him and excited anticipation for her getaway, had given him a long, worried look before stepping into the taxi. Mark, his stepfather, had offered a curt nod, a silent warning in his eyes, before joining her. Now, their absence hangs in the air like a held breath. The house is to themselves.For the first day, a fragile peace holds. He maintains his imposed penance, laboring in the yard, raking leaves that cling stubbornly to the damp earth, scrubbing grime from the garage floor. The physical exertion is a dull ache, a constant reminder of his punishment, but it’s also a perverse kind of relief. It keeps his hands busy, his body tired, and his mind, for brief stretches, free from the torment of her presence. He sees Nia occasionally, a glimpse of her through a window, a fleeting

Chapter 7: Two Fingers, One TruthThe unexpected moan, low and guttural, rips through the silence of the hallway. It hangs in the air, a devastating admission that shatters her facade, a raw sound of pleasure that contradicts the hatred blazing in her eyes. His own body jolts, a surge of triumph, cold and exhilarating. He feels it, a tightening in his groin, an undeniable escalation. The world narrows to this moment, this hallway, her kneeling before him.He watches her, his gaze locked on her face, on the way her eyes are squeezed shut in that brief, betraying moment, on the way her lips stretch, red and glistening, around him. The rhythm of his thrusts deepens, becomes more insistent, spurred on by that unexpected sound. He feels the wet heat of her mouth, the subtle clench of her throat, a primal instinct taking over, stripping away all thought, all restraint.He thrusts harder, faster, his hips bucking, a groan tearing from his own throat. The raw, guttural sounds she makes, the w

Chapter 9: Black BackbreakerThe hallway throbs, a pulsing chamber of raw sensation. Her moans, broken and blissful beneath his kiss, are a symphony of surrender that fuels his relentless drive. He feels her body arching against him, her hips grinding, a desperate, unbidden response to his every thrust. Her legs, wrapped tight around his waist, pull him deeper, locking him in, an anchor to her unravelling. Her mouth, hot and pliant beneath his, accepts his demanding kiss, swallowing his urgency, silencing her fading protests. The wet slap of their skin against the wall, the rhythmic thwack of flesh on flesh, is a drumbeat to their descent into primal ecstasy.He pounds her. His hips churn, a relentless, driving force, burying himself deeper with each powerful thrust. He feels the tight, slick grip of her pussy, the exquisite friction, the deep, internal contractions that pull him further into her. He focuses on her face, on the exquisite torment and dawning pleasure etched into her fe

BOOK 3: THE WIFE’S DANGEROUS OBSESSION Chapter 1: The Wedding NightThe apartment is quiet when she steps inside, but it doesn’t feel empty. There’s a weight in the air—something intangible, something electric. The kind of quiet that hums beneath the skin.Her new husband, Gregory, lingers behind her in the hallway, rolling in one last suitcase. He’s beaming with satisfaction, a man proud of the way things have finally aligned. His hand grazes her lower back as he sets the bag down. “Home,” he says warmly.She smiles, faint but genuine, trying to match his enthusiasm. “Home,” she repeats.The apartment is sleek, spacious, tastefully decorated in shades of gray and brushed metal, but it lacks the fingerprints of personal history. It feels… paused. Like time stood still here for a while.“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us a drink.” Gregory disappears down the hallway toward the kitchen.She pulls her suitcase over to the bedroom. Our bedroom, she corrects herself silently, and unz

BOOK 3: Chapter 3: A Dangerous LookThe dining table is dressed modestly—simple white linen, matte black plates, and a trio of flickering tea lights clustered near the center. Gregory insisted on setting everything up himself. “You deserve something special,” he’d said as he placed each fork and napkin with uncharacteristic care.She had offered to help. He wouldn’t let her.Now, she sits at one end of the table, Gregory at the other, and Adrian between them—casually slouched in his chair, wine glass lazily turning between his fingers. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms that look like they’ve done more sinning than working. His collarbone peeks from his unbuttoned shirt, and his foot, beneath the table, has found hers. Again.She hadn’t moved it the first time. That was the mistake.Now, the toe of his sock grazes the curve of her ankle, teasing its way upward. Light, feathering touches. A nudge here. A slow drag there.She keeps her eyes locked on Gregory.“…a