All Chapters of Seduction Unleashed (Erotica Collection): Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The vibrator buzzed steadily in Maya’s hand, warm and insistent, a promise of something she wasn’t sure she could handle. The comments scrolling across the screen blurred together—commands, encouragement, filthy little pleas.Her pulse thundered. Zoe leaned back on the bed, lace straps slipping down her arms, watching Maya with a look equal parts predator and cheerleader.“Well?” Zoe purred, voice dripping with challenge. “They’re waiting.”Maya’s throat tightened. “I don’t—”“You do.” Zoe shifted, tugging the hem of Maya’s slip higher, exposing the tops of her thighs to the glow of the camera. “You want this. You’re shaking with it.”And she was. Tremors ran through her hands, not entirely from nerves. Heat pooled low in her belly, dangerous and irresistible. The thought of being watched—of people she would never meet staring at her, hungering for her—made her dizzy.The comments roared again: “Slip girl’s stalling!” “Be a good girl.” “Touch her already!”Zoe grinned, feeding off it.

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall. Outside, the city hadn’t quite gone to sleep, but the muted glow from the streetlamps barely reached the bedroom windows. Mia rolled over, clutching her pillow tighter, trying to coax herself into sleep. Her mind wouldn’t settle, thoughts turning over in lazy circles.Across the room, Lara was sprawled out on her own bed. She’d tossed her blanket down to the floor half an hour ago. Heat clung to her skin, restless and prickling, and no matter how she shifted she couldn’t escape it. Sleep wasn’t coming. Desire, sharp and unrelenting, was.She bit her lip, eyes flicking to Mia’s still form across the small space. The steady rise and fall of her chest, the slight tilt of her head—she looked asleep. That was enough permission. Lara slid her hand down beneath the waistband of her shorts.The first touch was tentative, testing. A slow rub that had her breathing out a shaky sigh. The danger of it, the proxim

I saw him the second I walked in.Of course he was already here, leaning against the bar like he owned the place, the same smug tilt to his mouth that made people mistake arrogance for charm. The room was buzzing with laughter and chatter, but all I saw was him — Adrian fucking Blackwell, my personal plague.He hadn’t spotted me yet. Good. I took a glass of wine from a passing tray and pretended to focus on the people around me, but my body was already wound tight. It was always like this with him. We didn’t just compete — we devoured every ounce of oxygen until one of us was left bleeding.And tonight, at our firm’s so-called “networking mixer,” was no different.“Trying to glare holes into him already?” Clara’s voice slid into my ear, amused. She was my coworker, friend, and the only person who knew exactly how deep my loathing for Adrian went.“I’m not glaring.” I sipped my drink, my eyes locked on him despite myself. “I’m observing.”“Observing,” she echoed. “Sure. Observing his j

I told myself it was over.That night at his apartment — the tearing, the bruising, the way he split me open until I screamed his name — I swore it was the last time.But lies have a way of sticking to the back of your throat.Because two days later, I was in the office long after everyone else had gone, typing furiously under the glow of the desk lamp, and all I could think about was the way Adrian had growled into my ear when he came inside me.The elevator dinged.My heart sank.He stepped out, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loosened, hair a little messy like he’d been dragging his fingers through it. He froze when he saw me, then smirked, slow and infuriating.“Burning the midnight oil, Sinclair?”I didn’t look up from my screen. “Some of us actually work for our wins.”His laugh was low, rough. “Cute. You think your grind matters when you can’t even stop thinking about me.”I whipped my head up, heat flooding my face. “You wish.”But the way his eyes burned told me he k

The bar was quiet, tucked into the edge of the luxury hotel’s lobby where golden light poured down from a chandelier too grand for anyone sitting alone. He was already there, a drink in hand, jacket discarded on the stool beside him, when she walked in.“I’ll buy your next round,” he offered.“I don’t take drinks from strangers.”“Then maybe I won’t stay one.”The line should’ve been too forward. It should’ve made her scoff. But something in his tone disarmed her. The bartender set down a fresh glass, and before she could protest, he slid it toward her. She let her fingers curl around the stem, deliberately brushing his hand.“You’re bold.”“And you came over.”She smirked, sipping. The drink burned, just enough to loosen her chest.“What do you want?” she asked, finally meeting his eyes.She hadn’t planned to stop. She hadn’t even planned to look at anyone. But the pull was magnetic. Their eyes met across the glossy counter, holding for one second too long. She felt it: the weight of