Semua Bab EDEN: Steamy Forbidden Pleasures : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Hia's mouth was a searing heat....demanding and possessive, chasing away the last vestiges of my previous, shameful climax. This kiss wasn't a question; it was an answer...a declaration that I was his to teach, his to take apart, and his to put back together. I felt the powerful, possessive weight of his body on mine, the hard, unyielding pressure of his chest, and the undeniable ridge of his erection, still straining against his jeans.My body was humming, still sensitized and trembling from the first sudden release, and this new assault....the taste of him, the sheer physical force, was too much to fight. My hands, which had been weakly pushing against his shoulders, clenched into fists, then, humiliatingly, relaxed and tentatively crept up to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck.The shock was dissolving into a scorching, undeniable need.He broke the kiss only to drag his lips along my jaw, down my throat, returning to the spot he had just choked, his tongue flicking out on

The morning light filtered through the blinds like a guilty conscience, hitting my face and yanking awake me from a restless sleep. My body ached in ways that had nothing to do with the mini mart shift...sore thighs, a tender throb between my legs where Jack's cum had dried sticky on my skin. I lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, replaying the night in flashes: his rough hands, the way he'd mistaken me for Mom, the panic of her footsteps, and then...the way I'd wrapped my legs around him, chasing that forbidden high. What the hell was wrong with me? He was my stepdad, for fuck's sake. But the heat pooling in my gut said otherwise.I dragged myself out of bed, pulling on a loose tank top and shorts, avoiding the mirror because I knew my reflection would scream 'guilty.' Downstairs, the kitchen smelled of coffee and bacon, Mom humming some old tune as she packed her lunch. Jack was at the stove, flipping strips in a pan, his broad back to me, muscles shifting under his f

~Meadow's POV~"Fuck....Meadow, isn't this what you wanted?" Demitri groaned, his voice thick and commanding. "Now eat me like I'm your fucking messiah on earth."The hearty cheers and praises of the congregation reverberated upstairs, the sound of my father....Reverend Isaac, delivering his morning sermon. But here I was, not joining them. My skin was pressed against the cold marble floor, the chill a welcome numbness that kept the rest of the world away, as I deep-throated and choked on Demitri's swollen cock. Lord please forgive me, for sinning on such an auspicious day. How it started.... I stepped off the bus, the humid city air hitting me like a wet slap, carrying the faint scent of exhaust and blooming jasmine from the church garden. Home sweet fucking home...or at least, that's what I had to pretend for the next month. College had been my escape, a whirlwind of thumping bass at underground parties, shots of tequila burning down my throat, and guys who didn't give a damn a

Trigger warning: This story involves elements of bdsm, gory and morally gray characters, verbal and physical degradation. You've been warned. ~Matteo's POV~ I've been with the Castillo family for twenty-three years now, ever since my old man got gunned down in that brutal shootout with the Morettis. He was their head bodyguard, the guy who kept the wolves at bay, overseeing a pack of hardened subordinates who lived and breathed the family's protection. Bullets tore through him like paper, and there I was, barely out of my teens, stepping into his blood soaked shoes. The Castillos didn't hesitate...they took me in, molded me like clay. Trained me to be sharper, deadlier. I learned to anticipate threats before they even whispered in the wind, to shield the family from rival gangs sniffing for weakness. The third generation mafia empire doesn't forgive slip ups, and neither do I.But my real chain, the one that bites deepest, is to Theon Castillo. The boss's son, heir to the throne

The morning after our blood soaked night hits like a hangover from hell, but instead of the usual quiet recovery in the penthouse, chaos erupts. I'm still sore...every muscle screaming from the fisting, the whipping, the way Theon's cock stretched me raw, but duty calls louder than pain. I slip into my black tactical gear, the remains of the spiked collar hidden under my shirt collar, tucked away like our dirty secret. Theon's already barking orders into his phone, his red velvet robe swapped for a crisp white shirt that hugs his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to show the fresh cuts on his forearms from last night's knife play. He glances at me, eyes dark with that possessive fire, and nods. 'Stay close, pet. Family business turns ugly today.'We pile into the armored SUV with a skeleton crew...two of our best enforcers up front, me in the back with Theon. The city streets blur past, rain-slicked and gray, the kind of urban sprawl that hides bodies in alleys and deals in shadow