บททั้งหมดของ Sinful Nights: A Filthy Collection of Steamy Stories: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

He didn’t need to be told twice. A low, guttural groan rumbled in Liam’s chest as he scooped her up from the counter. Her legs were still locked around his waist, his cock still buried deep inside her. The movement as he lifted her sent a fresh, electrifying jolt of pleasure through her already oversensitive body. He was hard, a thick, unyielding presence that filled her completely, and with every step he took, she felt him shift inside her, a delicious, constant reminder of their union.He didn’t break the kiss as he carried her out of the kitchen. It was a clumsy, desperate affair, a tangled mess of limbs and frantic, open-mouthed kisses. They stumbled through the darkened house, their bodies pressed together, a single, unified entity driven by a singular, burning need. The journey up the stairs was an exercise in fumbling passion. He had to press her against the wall to steady himself, his hips grinding into hers, the rough texture of the wallpaper a stark contrast to the smooth ski

He didn’t hesitate. He took her outstretched hand, his fingers lacing with hers, and let her pull him from the tangled mess of his bed. They were a slick, sweaty, sticky pair, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their orgasms. The air in the room was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and coconut sunscreen and sin.She led him out of the bedroom, not bothering to look back. She could feel him behind her, his presence a hot, heavy weight, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. They moved through the darkened house like ghosts, two halves of a whole, bound by a secret so profound it felt like a physical tether. The moonlight streamed through the large windows at the front of the house, casting long, distorted shadows across the floor and furniture.She didn’t stop until they were in the living room. It was a large, open space, dominated by a big, L-shaped leather sofa in the center. The moonlight illuminated the room, bathing everything in a soft, ethereal glow. It ma

He didn’t give her time to think. He didn’t give her time to process the shocking, intimate pressure against her most forbidden place. He just held her there, on her hands and knees on his living room rug, his wet cock nudging against her tight, virgin asshole.“Relax,” he growled, his voice a low, dominant rumble that vibrated through her. His hands were firm on her hips, holding her in place. “Breathe out. Push back against me.”She was trembling, a fine, uncontrollable shudder that wracked her body. This was a line she had never even considered crossing. It was dirty, it was depraved, and it was the most thrilling thing she had ever felt. She took a deep, shuddering breath and did as he said, pushing back against him.He pressed forward, a slow, steady pressure. The head of his cock breached her tight ring of muscle, and a sharp, burning pain shot through her. She cried out, her hands clutching at the thick rug, her body instinctively trying to pull away.“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmu

A week passed a week of stolen glances across the lawn, of late-night text messages that were more explicit than any p**n script, of a constant, throbbing ache between her legs that only he could soothe. She was addicted. Completely and utterly addicted to him, to the danger, to the raw, primal pleasure he gave her.She was in her garden, trying to focus on weeding the flowerbeds, but her mind was a million miles away. She was thinking about him, about the last time they were together, about the way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and her heart leaped into her throat. It was him.My office. Now.The text was short, to the point, and left no room for argument. A thrill shot through her. His office. A new location. A new risk.She dropped her gardening tools and ran inside, stripping off her dirty clothes and pulling on a simple sundress. She didn’t bother with underwear. She knew he wouldn’t want her to. She walked out her back door and

The click of the lock was a sound that sealed her fate. Chloe was trapped, not by the lock, but by the dark, possessive fire in Ethan’s eyes. He was a man on a mission, a man who was determined to break down her walls and claim her as his own.He walked toward her, his movements slow, deliberate, a predator stalking his prey. He was still fully dressed, his suit rumpled, his tie loosened. He looked powerful, dangerous, and so fucking sexy it made her mouth water.He stopped in front of her, his eyes sweeping over her naked body, a slow, deliberate perusal that was both insulting and incredibly arousing. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek.“You’re going to admit it,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re going to admit that this is more than just sex. You’re going to admit that you’re mine.”“I’m not yours,” she said, her voice a little breathless, a little defiant.“We’ll see about that,” he growled