Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sinful Seduction (Exotica Collection): Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Mira knew everything about him except his name. He lived one floor above her, in apartment 4C, and every morning at exactly 6:17 a.m., his boots hit the staircase with rhythmic thuds that made her heart lurch. He never took the elevator. She heard the heavy shuffle of his steps through the thin ceiling. It used to annoy her. Until she noticed how precise the rhythm was. Until she saw him one evening in the hallway and felt the air freeze in her lungs. His shoulders had filled the doorway like a shadow. His jaw was dark with stubble. His scent had lingered in the air for hours—woodsmoke, something bitter, something male. Since then, she had watched. Quietly. Secretly. And in the privacy of her apartment, she had made him hers.The kitchen light in his apartment always clicked on around 8:30 p.m. Mira would shut her own lights off and sit by her window, mug in hand, pretending to sip something warm while her thighs pressed together tightly beneath her oversized sweater. He cooked shirtl

Mira woke with her body aching and the sheets still damp beneath her thighs. She didn’t know what time it was. Light seeped through the heavy curtains, dull and distant, like the world outside no longer mattered. She shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness between her legs. Her skin was marked—red handprints on her hips, small bites along her neck and shoulder, bruises that weren’t painful but possessive. She could still feel his tongue inside her, his voice in her ear, his cock buried deep and unrelenting. The memory alone made her moan softly, pressing her face deeper into the pillow that smelled like him.He was gone. She wasn’t sure when he had left, but she wasn’t surprised. He never stayed the morning after. He didn’t need to. The man had carved himself into her like scripture. His absence only made her ache more.On the nightstand beside her, a single folded note rested atop her journal.“Read page sixty-four out loud before you touch yourself.”Her breath caught. She reached

Riley adjusted her scarf and checked her reflection in the mirror above the galley sink. The red lipstick she applied during boarding had faded a little, but her hair still held its neat bun, and her navy-blue uniform hugged her curves just right. She had only been flying international for a month, and tonight’s New York to Rome overnight route was her longest assignment yet. Nerves still fluttered in her stomach. There was something about being sealed in a metal tube with two hundred strangers for nine hours that never got easier. But she was getting used to it. The routine. The smiles. The call buttons.It was nearing midnight over the Atlantic. Cabin lights were dimmed, passengers lulled into quiet with soft music and glasses of overpriced wine. She’d already completed the first service, tucked a few blankets over dozing couples, and answered five unnecessary requests for water. Her heels ached, and her hips hurt from walking up and down the narrow aisle. Still, she smiled, always

Cassie was sharp. Always had been. She didn’t miss much, especially not the way Riley had returned from the lavatory looking like her soul had left her body and returned soaked in sex. Her cheeks were flushed, her steps unsteady, her eyes glassy. And the passenger in 3A? Too calm. Too clean. Sitting back with that relaxed smirk and that knowing gleam in his eyes, like he had just gotten exactly what he wanted and was already thinking about who he wanted next.Cassie had known Riley for six months. They had trained together. Laughed over wine. Slept in crash pads with busted air conditioners and shared every miserable passenger story over reheated noodles. So Cassie knew Riley’s tells. The lip biting. The half-glances. The breathless laugh she gave when she was hiding something.She cornered her in the galley during snack service.“So,” Cassie said casually, picking up a tray of pretzels, “you gonna tell me why you look like you just got wrecked in a supply closet?”Riley nearly droppe

Lena was not the kind of woman who asked questions she didn’t already know the answers to. At thirty-five, she had worked long-haul international for over a decade, had trained half the girls on the crew, and had handled more high-maintenance passengers than she cared to count. She wore her age like armor, her confidence like perfume, and her curves with pride. She didn’t entertain drama. But she noticed things. She noticed when Riley stopped walking straight. She noticed when Cassie returned from her crew break with damp hair at the nape of her neck and an unmistakable flush that had nothing to do with altitude.She also noticed 3A.That man had walked onto the plane like he owned it. Lena had seen a hundred men like him before. The type that sat in business class not just for comfort, but because they expected things to bend for them. Most were forgettable. This one was not.The way he moved. The way he watched. The way he looked at Lena during boarding like she was a meal worth sav