All Chapters of Forbidden Romance Tales: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The door to Ahaan's room clicked shut with a finality that echoed in the quiet space, sealing them away from the world outside. Aneet stood there, her heart pounding so fiercely she could feel it in her throat, her fingers twisting the hem of her blouse. She had never felt this pull before, this magnetic draw toward him that made her skin tingle and her breath come in shallow bursts. Ahaan turned to her slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. The surprise from moments ago had melted into a simmering desire that he fought to keep in check. He could see the nervousness in her wide eyes, the way her lips parted slightly as if she were on the verge of second thoughts. But she had chosen this, followed him here and that trust ignited something fierce within him. "Aneet," he murmured, his voice low and rough, stepping closer but not touch

The rain-slicked streets of Boston mirrored the perpetual gray that had settled over Francis Thorne's soul. He had never been the sort of man who expected surprises, at least, not the good kind. At thirty-four, he had learned the hard way that life rarely offered sweetness without hiding a blade behind its back. After discovering his ex-wife’s affair, he expected nothing from women but polished lies and hidden agendas. Then he saw Elina through the fogged window of La Fleur de Sel bakery. He hadn’t planned to see her that morning. He had been on a call with a client, rattling off details of a property dispute, his eyes scanning the street without interest until something in a bakery window caught his attention. A girl. Not a woman. 

Elina was his obsession, a living flame that consumed every rational thought in Francis's mind.  He stilled her hips with an iron grip, fingers digging into the soft flesh just above her full ass, halting the desperate grind of her soaked pussy against his throbbing cock. The window fogged behind her, the city lights a hazy blur, but all he saw was her, flushed, marked, utterly surrendered.  With a low growl rumbling from his chest, he scooped her up effortlessly, her legs still wrapped around his waist like a vice, her heavy D-cup breasts pressing against his chest as he carried her across the room. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, the distant crackle of the fireplace drawing them toward the couch nestled before it. He laid her along the back of

Francis wasn’t even fully awake when he answered the phone. “Yeah?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. “Sir. It’s Archer.” The voice on the line was taut, a violin string about to snap. “Miss Rossi is in the hospital.” The words ripped him from bed. Francis sat up so fast the sheets tangled around his legs. “Explain.” His voice sharpened. “We found her in the restroom at the event venue,” he explained, breathless as though he’d run. “She’d gone in feeling dizzy. When she didn’t come out, I checked. She passed out in the last stall.”&nbs

Elina’s brows lifted, a playful spark in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “And what exactly are you planning?” Francis stepped toward her, his large hands capturing her waist in a possessive hold, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body. “Reminding you who fucking own you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her core. “Possessive much?” she teased, though her breath hitched sharply when his fingers traced the curve of her hip, dipping just under the waistband of her jeans, sending a shiver racing up her spine. “Obsessive,” he corrected, leaning in so close his hot breath fanned her lips. “Very fucking obsessive.” T