All Chapters of Too Wrong To Resist : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

REINAThe walk back to the car felt like it stretched on forever, each step heavier than the last. Calestino stayed glued right beside me, his big frame solid and silent like a bodyguard who did not trust the world one bit. Every couple of seconds I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, my thumb twitching near the button, ready to press it if anything felt off. My head was still spinning hard from everything that had happened in class. Philip's creepy sweet smile kept flashing in my mind, the way he had looked almost thrilled when Calestino grabbed him by the collar like he wanted to tear his throat out. And the way Philip had called him grumpy daddy, like it was some twisted inside joke between them. Something was seriously wrong with that guy. Deeply, dangerously wrong. I was so deep in my racing thoughts that I did not even notice Andrew until he was right there, stepping out suddenly from between two parked cars and blocking our path completely. He looked tall and familiar in

REINA Paolo stood right there in the middle of my living room, arms spreading open slowly like he had been holding himself back for weeks and could not do it anymore. His eyes looked tired, red around the edges from travel and too little sleep. There were faint shadows beneath them, and the lines around his mouth looked deeper than I remembered. But the second his gaze landed on me, something soft broke through all that exhaustion. That familiar smile touched his lips. The one with the faint dimple in his left cheek that used to make my stomach flutter back when life felt simpler and lighter. “Baby...” he whispered. His voice cracked on the word, rough and full of emotion. “I’m back, baby. Would you mind giving me a hug?” Before I could move, Elisa squealed beside him. “Oh my God, it's you, Reina!” She bounced once on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with excitement. “I only saw you briefly that day at your reception. You are even prettier in real life than in a

DOMENICO Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling of my office, thick and slow, twisting under the low light like it had nowhere else to go. The room was quiet in that expensive, controlled way only money can buy. No noise. No chaos. Just me, my thoughts, and the weight of everything I refused to let slip from my hands. The glass walls of my office reflected faint versions of me back at myself. Older. Colder. Tired in a way sleep never fixed. I sat behind my desk with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar burning between two fingers of the other, staring at the monitor in front of me like a starving man watching a locked kitchen. Reina. One folder. Then another. Then another. Files I had built over time like a private religion. Stolen images. Hidden recordings. Security footage rerouted through systems no one else in my world knew I had access to. She was everywhere in them. Walking. Sitting. Breathing. Laughing at things I could never hear. Turning her head slightly like

REINA The apartment felt like a tomb after Paolo left. Hours dragged by in heavy silence. His ghost refused to leave, the deep dent in the couch where he had sat, the half-empty glass still sweating on the counter, and that warm, masculine scent of his cologne clinging stubbornly to the air like a lover who wouldn’t say goodbye. He still hadn’t come back. But he had called twice. The first call was sharp and paranoid. “Did you lock the door?” No greeting, just immediate demand. “Yes, Paolo.” “Deadbolt too?” “Yes.” “Windows?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Should I barricade the chimney while I’m at it?” “I’m serious, Reina. Lock everything.” His voice was tight, distracted, background noise buzzing behind him. “I did,” I said softly. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Liar. The second call came almost an hour later. “Did you eat?” I stared at the cold, untouched toast on my plate. “No.” “Reina.” “What?” “Eat something. Now.” “You’re awfully bossy for a man who’s bl

DOMENICO The living room was shrouded in seductive darkness. Only the soft glow of the laptop illuminated the room. I lounged back on the wide, black leather couch like a king on his throne, legs spread wide, one hand lazily cradling a glass of aged whiskey while the other was already busy between my thighs. Reina’s face filled the screen, hundreds of stolen photos meticulously organized staring back at me.Tonight, I kept returning to one particular image: the naked picture of her I had taken in my bed that night after I had fucked her senseless out of her. Her eyes closed, mouth parted slightly and my cum decorated her face and chest like my favorite cum canvas. Her nipples were all bruised from how hard I had sucked and bit on them that night. Hair disheveled. My cock was already rock-hard, thick and heavy in my fist from just watching that seductive picture of hers. God, I want to fuck her like that again. I want to use her as my personal cumster because that was exactly what