Semua Bab My step-Uncle: Bab 11 - Bab 19

He picked me up effortlessly, my hand instinctively gripping the back of his neck for support. My legs wrapped around his waist before I even realized it.In the next moment, he moved swiftly, setting me down on the cool marble of the washroom slab. His mouth crashed onto mine in a hungry, desperate kiss, and I matched his intensity without thinking.His hand slid between us, fingers working quickly to undo the buttons of his shirt on me .When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathless, foreheads pressed together as if we needed the closeness to survive the moment.“I can’t hold back anymore,” he whispered, his voice rough.“Then don’t,” I breathed, and in an instant, he ripped the shirt from my body—“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!”I punched the pillow beside me and shot upright, panting.Why am I still dreaming about him? I’m supposed to forget him, not… replay him. I cursed myself silently.My gaze drifted toward the wall that connected my room to his.He must be so damn prou

I woke up with a throbbing head. Slowly, I sat up, pressing my palm against my temple. “Oh God, it’s too much,” I cursed under my breath. When I finally opened my eyes, I realized I was in my own room. It took me a whole minute to register that fact. Dropping my hands from my head, I whispered in my mind, How did I even come here? And then everything flashed back—me going there, seeing him with another girl, drinking with that guy… My hand flew to my mouth as the realization struck me. What was I going to do with him? Are you mad, Elora? I cursed myself silently. And then those words echoed again in my head. You are only mine, wildflower. My eyes widened in shock and surprise. Did he admit it? I asked myself. I looked around. Did he bring me home? So he gave in, I thought, springing out of bed. I had to confront him. I should still be angry, but instead, an odd happiness bloomed inside me. He admitted it. I rushed out of my room and pushed open the door of his. Empty. I w

“We can’t be together. This is wrong,” he said. “Why are you the one being scared? It’s supposed to be the girl’s part to be scared, not the guy’s. I’m not scared—then why are you?” I asked. His jaw clenched. “I’m not scared for me. I’m scared for you. If your mom finds out, she’s going to—” “She’s going to what?” I cut him off. “I have a life. She doesn’t get to decide it for me. It’s me who decides who I want to be with.” He just stared at me, silent. I stepped closer, my heart hammering. “I’m saying this one last time—accept that you need me as much as I need you,” I whispered. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I pushed ahead. “Or let me live my life. Let me find someone else. Stop interfering in my matters.” His eyes darkened, but he still said nothing. “Fine,” I snapped. “If you won’t accept me, then I’ll go back to that guy tonight—” Before I could finish, his hand shot out, gripping my arm, slamming me back against the wall. “You won’t,” he growled. “Why not?” I

I couldn’t stop smiling to myself.I opened my eyes — I was in my room, naked under the blanket.He did exactly what he said. My hand reached for the nightstand, grabbing the rule list we made.I hadn’t slept this peacefully in two years.Each rule I read brought his touch back to my skin. My thighs clenched.My hand slid under the duvet, rubbing myself as I read.The rules were a mix of normal and filthy.The first one: never tell anyone what’s happening between us — because if the family found out, both of us would be ruined. Then came the basics: safewords, no cumming without permission, sleeping naked every night, always ready for him. The list even marked the spaces where I had to be available to him.My hand froze when I read the one I hated most: “No office play. Remain professional outside.”God, why did he have to add that one? The thought of being under his desk while he led a meeting, his voice steady while I made him lose control — it would’ve been the most thrilling thin

The rules were clear. The hours were set. But rules had never been my strong suit, especially when it came to him.For two years, I had craved Christian—my Mr. Stranger, a fantasy I never thought would materialize. And now, for one intoxicating week, he had been mine again, bound by the strict, maddening parameters of our arrangement. We were satellites in the same house, orbiting each other but forbidden from touching outside the designated times. It was agony. I didn’t just want the frantic, desperate coupling we engaged in during our allotted hours. I wanted to sit beside him. To talk. To hold his hand and feel the casual brush of his lips against my temple. But the rules were the rules, a necessary fortress against the prying eyes of the household staff.This morning, the fortress wall seemed lower. The sun was barely a suggestion in the sky when I found myself slipping from my balcony to his, the cool morning air raising goosebumps on my skin. The French door was unlocked. Of cou