Semua Bab Lust Behind Closed Doors: Bab 1 - Bab 6

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight.Elena lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, sheets twisted around her body. Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Adrian’s smirk, felt the ghost of his breath against her ear, heard that sinful question again.Do you miss being touched?Her thighs pressed together instinctively. Shame curled inside her, but so did heat. She couldn’t stop thinking about him—about the way he’d looked at her, as if he could strip her bare without ever lifting a finger.She groaned softly and pushed the covers away. Maybe a glass of water would cool her down. Maybe walking through the quiet halls would clear her mind.Padding barefoot down the hallway, she wrapped her silk robe tightly around herself. The marble floor was cool against her skin as she descended the staircase and slipped into the kitchen.The mansion was silent, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. She reached for a glass in the cupboard, her robe shifting

Elena couldn’t look at herself in the mirror.Every time she tried, she saw swollen lips, flushed skin, eyes that glistened with guilt—and memory. The taste of Adrian lingered in her mouth, cruel proof of what she’d done.I kissed him back.The thought clawed at her chest like a dagger. She should have screamed. She should have slapped him. She should have ended it right there. But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d melted into him, clung to him, begged with her body for more.Her husband’s face flickered through her mind, bringing nausea. Gregory had trusted her, given her a home, his name. And she’d betrayed him in the worst way imaginable.The doorbell rang, startling her out of her spiral.Elena pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling shakily. Thank God. A distraction.But when she went downstairs, the hallway was empty. No visitor. No delivery.Just Adrian.He leaned against the wall near the door, watching her silently. His arms were folded across his chest, veins running thick across his

Elena hadn’t been able to sleep all night. The echoes of Adrian’s touch, the memory of his lips brushing so close to hers, the dangerous heat in his eyes—it all haunted her in the dark silence of her bedroom. Richard had been snoring beside her, oblivious, while she lay wide awake, torn between guilt and longing.She told herself again and again that it had to stop. Whatever this was, whatever dangerous game they had begun to play—it needed to end before it consumed her. He was her stepson, her husband’s child. She was supposed to be the respectable wife, the perfect stepmother.But then morning came, and she found herself in the kitchen, robe tied loosely around her waist, and there he was.Adrian. Leaning against the counter like he owned the place, shirtless, a glass of juice in his hand. His dark hair was damp from the shower, and droplets of water slid down his chest, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.Her throat went dry.“Morning,” he drawled, his lips curving i