บททั้งหมดของ DON’T STOP: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

BellaThe drive back to my place was quiet. The kind of quiet that presses in on all sides, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional swish of tires over wet pavement. Darrell kept both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road, but I could feel him glancing at me every few minutes—quick, careful looks like he was checking if I was still breathing.I stared out the passenger window at the passing streetlights, their orange glow smearing across the glass in streaks. My head rested against the cool window, forehead pressed to it until the chill seeped into my skin. Everything felt distant and numb. Like I was watching my own life through fogged glass.When we pulled up to my building, the parking lot lights buzzed faintly overhead. Darrell turned off the engine. The sudden silence was louder than the drive had been.I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, fingers clumsy. “Thanks for… driving me.”He nodded once. “Of course.”I opened the door and stepped out

BellaThe lecture hall felt suffocating that morning. The professor’s voice droned on about supply-side economics, graphs flickering on the projector, but none of it reached me. I sat near the middle row, pen frozen in my hand, staring blankly at my notebook. The whispers started behind me.“Did you hear? Mr. Black got fired.”“Yeah, the dean called it ‘inappropriate conduct’ after that hug video went around.”“Someone posted it in the final-year group chat. They said it was unprofessional.”My stomach dropped so fast I thought I’d be sick. He was fired? Because of me. Because of that one moment when I’d been so happy I couldn’t hold it in.I stood up without thinking.My chair scraped loudly against the floor. Heads turned. The professor paused mid-sentence, eyebrows raised in shock—someone actually leaving class without permission was rare.I didn’t care.I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and pushed past the row of knees and backpacks. Whispers followed me down the aisle—

DarrellShe was close. I could feel it in the way her thighs trembled around my waist, the way her cunt fluttered and tightened with every slow, deep thrust. Her breath hitched against my lips, short and desperate. Her nails dug sharp crescents into my shoulders. I wanted to push her over the edge right then, watch her shatter beneath me, but I held back. I wanted more of her like this—open, needy, completely fucking mine in the quiet storm of the rain outside.I pulled out slowly. She gave a soft whine of protest. Her legs stayed locked around me for a second, heels pressing into my back like she didn’t want to let go. I kissed her once, deep and lingering, then slid my arms under her thighs and lifted her off the bed in one smooth motion. She gasped. Her arms flew around my neck. Her legs tightened instinctively around my hips.“Darrell—”I carried her the few steps to the small wooden desk against the wall. Rain streaked the window behind it. Lightning flashed once in the distance

DaisyThe rain was still falling hard when we stumbled out of the club.We didn’t speak the entire ride back to his place. The Uber driver kept glancing at us in the rearview mirror, but we didn’t care. My hand was on his thigh the whole time, fingers digging into the muscle through his pants. His hand rested high on my bare leg, his thumb stroking slow, dangerous circles under the hem of my short black dress. Every touch sent heat racing straight between my legs.The second the front door closed behind us, he had me against it.His mouth crashed into mine like he’d been starving for months. The kiss was messy and desperate, tongues sliding hot and deep. I tasted the whisky he’d been drinking all night — dark, smoky, intoxicating. He tasted like sin. My fingers twisted into his shirt as I pulled him closer, moaning softly into his mouth when he pressed his body flush against mine. I could already feel how hard he was, thick and straining against my stomach.We barely made it three ste

DaisyMy eyes snapped open.My heart was slamming against my ribs, my breath ragged, and my skin slick with sweat.For one terrifying second, I thought Norman’s hands were still on me, his cock probably still buried deep, his growl still vibrating in my ear.But no.The room was quiet. There was no rain. No thunder. Just the soft hum of the air conditioner and Steve’s even breathing beside me.I was in Steve’s bed. In his arms. My legs tangled with his, my nightie twisted around my waist, and thighs pressed together against the throbbing ache between them.It had all been a dream.A filthy, vivid, heart-pounding dream.I sighed loud and sharp, which made Steve stir immediately.“Hey…” His voice was sleepy and gentle. He rolled toward me, hand sliding to my cheek. “Bad dream?”I stared at him—his kind eyes, his soft smile, the faint stubble on his jaw. He looked safe and steady. Nothing like the man who’d just fucked me senseless in my head.Steve tilted his head. “Was your ex-husband