บททั้งหมดของ Sensual Erotic Tales ( short smut stories).: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 35

DOMINIC: The view of the road wasn’t clear for me as I drove, the rain pelted against the windshield like a thousand tiny, angry fists, each one trying to shatter the glass and drown me in the storm outside. But it didn’t matter. The storm inside my own head was far more violent. I couldn’t care less about the blurred lines of yellow and white, about the other idiots on the road who actually had the luxury of paying attention. My focus was a singular, burning point of rage, and its name was Paul. That motherfucker son of mine couldn’t do one single goddamn thing right, not one, and today of all days, he chose to amplify his incompetence to an art form. He couldn’t pick up his fucking phone for once in his miserable, pointless existence. "I snarled." A guttural sound tore from my throat as I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. The leather groaned under the impact, a pathetic echo of the fury churning in my gut. The car surged forward, my foot heavy on the accelerator, blin

It has been over an hour since the incident occurred. Since I got on my knees and suck my father-in-law's cock like my fucking life depended on it. An hour since I had done something so sinful. And yet I was still trembling, still wet, achingly needy. I was lying flat on my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, the sheet twisted around my legs, the house was completely silent as if even the walls were afraid and holding their breath. And here I am. I couldn't stop thinking about him, about the way he was looking at me like he owned me, like I was nothing more than a mouth for him to fuck and leave me behind. But Truth to be told, I like it so fucking much it made my thigh clench and my nipples hard under my top. He hadn't even said a single fucking word after, hadn't even looked back, just walked out, leaving me all alone on the floor like a whore trash. And still my pussy paused at the memory. My whole body ached for his touch. I should have felt humiliated, I did a

SERENA. I was a traitor in my own bed, and the sentence was sleeplessness. Tossing and turning, the silk sheets a tangled accusation around my legs, I fought for an oblivion that wouldn’t come. Every time I shut my eyes, the darkness behind my lids wasn’t empty. It was filled with him. "Dominic. My father-in-law." The man I should have been running from, the man whose name should be a curse on my lips, was instead the ache in my bones, the ghost on my tongue. The taste of him still lingered in my throat, a salty, masculine secret that refused to be washed away. Beside me, the man known as my husband snored, a steady, oblivious rhythm that was an insult to the riot in my soul. I turned my head, my eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the moon, and studied the planes of his face. I couldn’t breathe next to him. The air was thick with my betrayal, suffocating me with every breath he took. So I slipped out of the bed, a ghost in my own life. My bare feet met the col