All Chapters of WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Sara’s POVArcher drove us back to his parents’ mansion in silence. The air between us felt thick—like something was still hanging there, something we hadn’t said. I kept staring out the window, pretending to be calm, but my heart was still racing from what had happened earlier in the car.When we finally pulled into the long driveway, the mansion looked even bigger than usual under the moonlight. The windows glowed faintly, and I could see our reflections in the glass as we passed. My cheeks were still flushed, and Archer’s jaw was tight, like he was trying not to think about it either.We didn’t say anything as we went inside. The house was quiet except for the faint ticking of the old clock in the hall. I mumbled a quick “goodnight” and hurried upstairs to my room before my thoughts could betray me.Inside, I leaned against the door and took a deep breath. My hands were trembling a little. The smell of Archer’s cologne still clung to me—woody and warm—and it made my chest ache in a

Sara’s POVI shivered at his words, already feeling myself getting wet again in anticipation of what was to come. Archer crawled back up my body, pressing a deep, sensual kiss to my lips."I want to feel your mouth on me too," he murmured against my mouth. "I want to fuck your pretty little face until I come down your throat."I moaned at the thought, my hand immediately moving to his rock-hard cock. I stroked him slowly, feeling him throb in my grip."Please, baby," I whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I want to taste you too. I want you to fuck my mouth until I can't breathe."Archer groaned, his hips bucking into my hand. He shifted, positioning himself so his cock was hovering over my face."Open up, baby," he commanded, his voice strained with barely contained lust. "Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."I parted my lips obediently, sticking out my tongue to catch the first drop of pre-cum that beaded at the tip of his cock. Archer let out a low moan, his

Emilio’s POVThe bakery always went quiet after closing. The hum of the ovens faded, the air grew still, and the only sound left was the soft tick of the clock above the door. I’d wipe down the counters slower than necessary, pretending I still had things to do. Maybe I did it so I could stay in that silence a little longer… or maybe because I knew he’d come in again.He always did.Three nights in a row now. Always around the same time—ten minutes before closing. The bell over the door would ring, and there he was. Same black leather jacket, same dark jeans, same steady look in his eyes that somehow made my chest feel tight.He’d order black coffee, no sugar, and a couple pastries. Sometimes the croissants, sometimes the ones with chocolate inside. He never asked for anything different. He’d sit by the window, the same table every time, where the streetlight spilled just enough to light up his face.God, his face.His hair was black, darker than the coffee I poured for him, and his e

Emilio’s POVFor a few seconds, neither of us said anything. Not because it was awkward—more like we were both settling into the sound of each other. His quiet breathing, steady and soft, filled my ear in this weirdly comforting way. Meanwhile, my own breathing kept doing this uneven thing, like my lungs hadn’t gotten the memo that everything was fine now.I shifted on my bed, the old mattress giving a tiny groan beneath me. The room was dim except for the streetlight leaking through my curtains, cutting a pale line across my chest. The fan above me kept spinning lazily, blowing a warm little breeze every few seconds. It wasn’t much, but it made the room feel less lonely.But it was his voice that really changed the whole night. Whenever he spoke, it felt like my body reacted before my brain did. His words weren’t anything dramatic—just simple, easy things—but the way he said them… it was like he was right there beside me, lying next to me on my narrow bed, looking at me with those da

Emilio’s POVActually laughed. A deep, warm sound that rolled through his chest and into my hands.It wasn’t teasing.It wasn’t mocking.It was soft, like he liked that I grabbed him. Like he expected it.Inside the helmet, my face heated up so bad I was sure I was glowing. I buried my cheek against his back for a second, hoping the wind would cool me down, hoping he couldn’t feel how embarrassed I was.But somehow, the way he laughed made my chest feel light too. Like he wasn’t making fun of me at all—like he found it… cute. Or maybe just human.We sped farther down the quiet street, the city lights thinning out until it was mostly just us, the road, and the cool night air. The wind slapped at my clothes and snuck under the edge of my shirt, but somehow I still felt warm—too warm. Warm from him. Warm from the bike. Warm from something curling low inside me.My heartbeat kept trying to match the noise of the engine, thudding hard against my ribs. And every time the bike hit a small bu