Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sinful Nights: A Collection Of Erotic Desires: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Fridays were my favorite time to relax. I would spend the day lounging in my room, watching shows on Netflix, or scrolling through endless TikToks that featured adorable animals and fun, flirty videos. At eighteen, my life was pretty simple: I went to school, worked part-time at a coffee shop, and spent time with Maddy, my best friend. My parents often traveled out of town, so I had the house mostly to myself.Maddy and I have known each other since we were kids, but as life changed, so did our friendship—we're now more like close friends than best friends, and I’m completely fine with that. We still do almost everything together, sharing our crushes, our clothes, and spending time at each other's houses. Maddy’s place is so close that it only takes me about eight minutes to walk there.That afternoon I received a text from Maddy, her excitement was contagious—“Zo, I need you to model my new dress! You're literally the hottest person I know, Zo,” she'd said. “Those tits will make the

He stood, lifting me effortlessly like I weighed nothing, his 6’2” frame towering over my 5’4” one. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, but he spun me, bending me over Maddy’s desk, my full breasts pressed hard against her sketchpads, pencils and fabric swatches rolling off the edge and clattering to the floor. The wood was cool against my nipples, making them tighten into aching peaks.“Teasing me all day with that little crop top,” he growled low in my ear, his voice rough with dominance. His hand slapped against my ass, and it felt sharp and stinging, the heat blooming instantly across my skin. I yelped, the sound muffled by the desk, causing my body to jerk forward. “You watched me fuck Lisa, didn’t you? Dirty little girl.”“Yes,” I admitted on a shaky breath, pushing my ass back toward him, shameless. My thong was soaked, the lace clinging to my swollen lips. He hooked a finger under the waistband and ripped it hard. The delicate fabric tore with a satisfying rip,

Elena’s POVThe Maldives was supposed to be our escape. Crystal-clear waters, white sand beaches, endless sunshine—everything Victor and I needed to reconnect, to rediscover what we’d lost somewhere between his boardroom meetings and my silent resentment. Three years of marriage shouldn’t feel like ten years of exhaustion, but here we were.I’d left my daughter Zoey back home in Los Angeles. At eighteen, she was more than capable of taking care of herself, very responsible, and mature beyond her years, the kind of daughter who actually texts to let you know she’s out or home safe.“Mom, I’ll be fine,” she’d said when I expressed my worry. “Go enjoy yourself. You need this.” She’d hugged me tight at the airport, and I’d felt a pang of guilt for leaving her, even though I knew she’d probably throw a party the moment we were wheels-up.But my husband, Victor? Victor insisted on bringing Darren. His son who is eight years old, full of energy on most days, and absolutely not what I had i

Elena’s POV The afternoon sun beat down like it had a personal grudge against me. I rubbed on another thick layer of sunscreen—SPF 50, because coming home looking like a lobster was not on my agenda—and watched Darren launch into the pool for what felt like the hundredth time. His squeals bounced off the villa’s glass walls, a soundtrack of pure, wild kid joy. “Elena! Watch this!” Splash. Again. Damien stood just inside the shade, looking almost relaxed. But I knew better. His eyes never stopped scanning—the edges of the property, the shimmering water, the house itself. Always alert. Always watching. Including watching me. Every time I adjusted my sun hat or shifted in my lounge chair, I felt his gaze like a weight, a subtle touch against my skin. I’d changed into a one-piece swimsuit—not scandalous by resort standards, but still, the way it hugged every curve made me hyperaware of how exposed I felt. I told myself it was just for comfort. The little voice in my head called me a

Elena’s POVThe words, please stay—hung in the air between us. For a single, suspended heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then Damien’s thumb traced my bottom lip, his gaze searching mine for a final, fleeting certainty.“Damien! I found my flippers!”Darren’s voice from upstairs shattered the moment.We sprang apart like guilty teenagers. Damien stepped back, running a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling as steadily as my own. I pressed my palms against the cool counter, trying to steady the rush of feelings swirling inside me. Then smiled weakly “Go get ready, sweetheart,” I managed, my voice thin. “We’re leaving for the beach soon.”As his footsteps faded, Damien followed, and I fled upstairs, desperate for space after the charged tension.The rest of the day was a study in exquisite torture. At the beach, Darren’s joyful shrieks as he rode the waves contrasted sharply with the silent, loaded glances Damien and I exchanged over his head. Every brush of his arm as he p