All Chapters of Fucked Into Forever [Forbidden Collection]: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The aftermath of the revelations hit the Harrington family like a hurricane, leaving debris of broken relationships and shattered illusions in its wake. Elena basked in the chaos she'd orchestrated, her body still thrumming from the hotel encounter with Victor the night before. His desperate thrusts, fueled by the loss of his marriage, had been rougher than ever—his hands bruising her hips as he pounded into her from behind, whispering promises of a future together while she bit her lip to hide her triumphant smile. But now, with the divorce papers served to Marcus and Sophia's furious departure, Elena felt the weight of her plan shifting. The pregnancy, once a perfect pawn, now stirred unexpected emotions. Yet, her resolve hardened; termination was the final act of control. Victor called her repeatedly the next morning, his voice hoarse from the arguments with Sophia. "Elena, come over. I need you." She agreed, driving to his now-empty estate, the grand mansion feeling

The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and fake smiles. Isabella stood beside Damien in her custom white gown, the silk so thin it clung to every curve like a second skin. Cameras flashed as guests toasted the “love story” of the year. No one knew the truth—this was a cage dressed in diamonds.Damien’s large hand rested possessively on the small of her back, fingers slipping under the low-cut fabric to stroke the bare swell of her ass. He’d forbidden panties that morning. “I want easy access to my wife’s cunt all night,” he’d growled while dressing her himself.Every time his fingertips brushed her slick folds in public, Isabella clenched her thighs, fighting the moan rising in her throat. By the time the limo door closed behind them, she was soaked.The second the penthouse elevator dinged, Damien snapped.He slammed her against the mirrored wall, mouth crashing down on hers in a brutal kiss. His tongue invaded like he owned her soul. One hand ripped the veil from her h

The charity gala was a glittering trap wrapped in tuxedos and diamonds. Isabella moved through the crowded ballroom on Damien’s arm, the long emerald gown he’d chosen for her slit high up one thigh and backless to the base of her spine. No bra. No panties. He’d made that clear while dressing her—his fingers teasing her clit until she was trembling but not allowed to come. “Behave,” he’d warned, slipping a small remote-controlled vibrator inside her soaked pussy before they left. “Or I’ll make you scream in front of every donor here.” The first buzz hit the moment they stepped onto the red carpet. Isabella gasped, thighs clenching as the toy pulsed against her G-spot. Damien’s hand stayed possessively on her lower back, thumb stroking bare skin while cameras flashed. Inside the limo on the way there, he hadn’t wasted time. He’d ordered her to straddle him, dress hiked to her waist. “Ride me. Now.” Isabella sank down onto his thick, bare cock with a broken moan, the stret

Isabella’s secret had been eating her alive for days. Even after the tender night, the old plan still haunted her—the one she’d written in a hidden notebook the day she signed the contract. Seduce him. Make him fall. Then leak every dirty detail of his business to the press and watch Kane Empire burn from the inside. She’d kept the notebook in the bottom of her lingerie drawer, stupidly thinking he’d never look.He already knew.She realized it the moment she walked into the bedroom that evening. The notebook lay open on the silk sheets. Damien stood beside the bed in nothing but black slacks, chest bare, eyes storm-dark with dangerous calm.“You were going to ruin me,” he said quietly. No anger. Just raw possession. “From the very first night you were going to destroy the man whose cock you begged for every single day.”Isabella’s knees went weak. “Damien, I…”“Strip.”“Please…” She did, fingers shaking, until she stood naked before him. He didn’t speak again. He simply lifted he

Aveline’s dusty Jeep rumbled to a halt in the curved driveway of the sprawling colonial house she once knew as home. The late-summer heat clung to her skin as she killed the engine, her pulse already racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the long drive from campus. College was finished. She was back—except nothing felt the same since her mother’s remarriage six months earlier. Aveline slung her duffel over one shoulder, the thin straps of her crimson halter top biting into her shoulders, the fabric stretched taut across her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples had hardened the second she spotted the black luxury sedan in the garage.The front door opened before she reached the porch.“Aveline, darling!” Lavinia’s voice floated out, polished and sweet, yet edged with that familiar undercurrent of frost. Her mother stood framed in the doorway wearing a tailored ivory blouse and slim trousers, every inch the elegant forty-two-year-old socialite. But the smile she offered didn’