All Chapters of Screwed Into Forever [Forbidden Collection]: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

NORAI waited three days before I let him come back over. Not because I needed space—I needed him to feel the hook sink in a little deeper. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge he’d stocked with food I didn’t even like. I’d thrown up twice that morning, nothing dramatic, just enough to remind me there was something alive inside me that belonged to him. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom, shirt pulled up, hand on my still-flat stomach. Nineteen years old. No family left. And now this.My phone lit up. Elias. ~ On my way. You okay?I typed back: Door’s open. Hurry.I didn’t dress up. Just an oversized T-shirt I’d stolen from his suitcase the last time he was here and a pair of cotton panties. When the lock clicked I was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs swinging like I didn’t have a care. He stepped in still wearing the suit from whatever meeting he’d probably ditched early. His eyes went straight to my stomach, then lower, then b

NORA I woke up alone in the big bed again, the sheets still smelling like Elias’s cologne and the faint musk of last night’s sex. My hand went to my stomach out of habit now. Three months. The doctor had said the heartbeat was strong yesterday, that little flutter on the ultrasound screen that made Elias’s eyes go glassy for a second before he blinked it away. I’d watched him instead of the monitor—fifty years old, powerful, cold in every boardroom I’d read about online, but soft for this. For the baby. Not for me. Not really. I rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen. The black credit card was on the counter where he’d left it, next to a note in his sharp handwriting: Appointment at 2. Driver will pick you up. Text me after. No “I love you.” No “I miss you already.” Just logistics, like I was another asset he was managing. My phone buzzed while I was pouring coffee I wasn’t supposed to drink anymore. Elias. ~ Shelly wants to meet you. Today. Neutral ground. Coffee sho

NORA I stared at the ultrasound photo on the fridge for a long time that morning. Four months now. The baby had a face on the grainy printout—tiny nose, little fists. Elias had pinned it there himself last week, right next to the grocery list like it was the most normal thing in the world. He’d kissed my belly afterward, hands reverent, whispering “my son” against my skin while I lay there pretending the words didn’t feel like a brand. He came over at lunch, same as always. Suit jacket already off, tie loose. The second the door shut he had me against the counter, mouth hungry on my neck. “Missed this,” he muttered, shoving my robe open. My belly was round enough now that it pressed between us, but he didn’t care. He lifted me onto the granite, spread my legs, and dropped to his knees like it was routine. His tongue was rough and familiar. He licked me open, two fingers sliding in deep while he sucked my clit the way he knew would make me shake. I gripped the edge of

Julian showed up at 7:55 on Monday wearing the same charcoal suit, this time with a navy tie that made his eyes look sharper. He carried a leather messenger bag and two coffees from the lobby kiosk. Alex watched him through the glass wall of his office as Julian set one cup on the empty assistant’s desk—black, no sugar, exactly how Alex took it. He hadn’t asked for coffee. He hadn’t asked for anything. By nine-thirty the day had already turned into a grinder. Two conference calls back-to-back, a supplier in Shanghai who kept calling the wrong time zone, and the quarterly numbers that looked worse on paper than they had in the boardroom. Alex barked orders without looking up. Julian answered every one of them in that same calm voice, forwarding contracts, rescheduling the Tokyo trip, and quietly killing a dozen spam emails before Alex even saw them. At eleven Alex finally glanced over. Julian was at his desk, sleeves rolled to the elbows, typing. The line of his forearm ca

Alex woke up hard and guilty. The penthouse was still dark, rain streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sophia’s side of the bed was empty—she’d texted last night that the lake house fog was too thick to drive back. He lay there staring at the ceiling, cock aching from the dream he couldn’t remember but could guess. Julian’s mouth. Julian’s hand. The wet sound Julian had made when he came on Alex’s stomach Friday night. He jerked off in the shower like a teenager, quick and angry, coming with his forehead pressed to the cold tile. It didn’t help. The guilt just settled heavier. By the time he got to the office at seven-forty, Julian was already there. Fresh shirt, same calm face, two coffees on the desk. Black for Alex. The sight of him made Alex’s stomach flip and his dick twitch at the same time. “Morning,” Julian said, like nothing had changed. Alex didn’t answer. He walked straight into his office and shut the glass door harder than necessary. Through the wall he watched