All Chapters of CLIMAX CHRONICLES ( A Compilation Of Raw Steamy Stories): Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

DANIEL POVThe second the front door clicked, I knew. Penelope was back.I tried to focus on Sara, the blonde currently naked and busy between my legs but it was no use. My grip on the armrests of the chair tightened until my knuckles turned white. I didn't even look at Sara. She was just some girl from one of my classes, pretty enough, but she’d been practically begging to come over for weeks. I’d only said yes because the house was supposed to be empty. Mom was already in England for some work trip , and my old man was buried in some legal brief at his firm, probably not coming home until the middle of the night. It was supposed to be just me, alone, blowing off some steam.But Penelope was back.My ears were locked on the sound of her heavy suitcase dragging across the floorboards downstairs. Every time our shoulders brushed in the hallway, or I caught her staring at me from the kitchen window while I was swimming in the pool, I felt this itch to pin her againstthe wall. Just knowi

PENELOPE POVMy eyes were wide, stinging with the heat of pure terror. My face was wet, my chin glistening with saliva , and I was literally trapped between his legs on the floor. Every muscle in my body was locked tight, paralyzed. Then I heard it, the heavy, rhythmic thud of his dad's shoes coming closer, growing louder with every second. He didn't go straight to the study like I’d prayed he would. No, he walked right into the kitchen area.I saw the shadow of his legs stop just a few feet away from the island. He was right there. I could hear the fabric of his trousers rustling as he shifted his weight. My heart was slamming against my ribs so hard I thought he’d hear it through the wood of the island."Oh, there you are," his dad said, his voice booming in the quiet room. I heard him toss his keys onto the counter, the metal clinking right above my head, the sound vibrating through the marble and straight into my skull. "I forgot the documents for the Miller case in the study. I

The silence in the mansion wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the velvet curtains muffled every breath I tried to take. Manuel was gone. Three years of watching him dying from cancer had turned me into a shadow that left me hollow, a shell of the woman I used to be. I stood by the window of the master suite, staring out at the rain-soaked gardens, still wearing that damn black lace dress. It felt like a costume.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the mahogany casket. I felt the judgmental stares of the Mafia wives who wondered how soon I’d trade my black veil for red lipstick. They didn't know that I had been starving in this house for a thousand days.I heard the door click. I didn't turn around. I knew the weight of that step. It was steady, rhythmic, and lacked the violent edge that usually followed his brother."You haven’t moved in hours , Blaire., the maid told me you refused to come down for Dinner" Richard’s voice was like warm honey, smooth and dangerous. He didn't stomp in

BLAIREThe sweat was still drying on my skin, my breath finally beginning to level out, when Richard’s hand tightened on my breast. He didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted his weight, his thick, spent cock sliding out of me with a wet, heavy sound that made me shiver. I felt the cooling heat of his cum beginning to trickle down my thigh, a messy reminder of what we’d just done in our dead husband’s bed."Don't move, Blaire," he whispered, his voice losing every bit of its honeyed softness.He didn't give me a chance to respond. He grabbed my hips and flipped me over until I was facedown against the silk pillows, my ass pushed high into the air. The black lace of my mourning dress was still bunched around my waist, a dark stain against my pale skin. He stayed behind me, his chest pressing into my back, his breath hot and ragged against my neck."Three years," he growled, his hand reaching down to catch my jaw, forcing my head back so I had to see our reflection in the vanity mirror. "

BLAIREThe cold marble of the kitchen counter bit into the backs of my thighs, but the fire radiating from Raymond’s body made the chill vanish in an instant. He didn't wait for a response. He didn't ask for permission. His hand fisted in the delicate silk of my peach robe and with one violent, downward jerk, the fabric gave way. The sound of the silk ripping was loud in the quiet kitchen, a sharp protest that ended with the robe hanging in useless tatters around my elbows.I was exposed, my breasts heaving, the marks Richard had left on my collarbone glowing like brandings under the fluorescent lights. Raymond’s eyes darkened, a predatory hunger washing over his features as he took in the sight of me. He didn't look at me like a husband or a protector; he looked at me like a man who had finally cornered the prey he’d been tracking for a thousand days."Look at you," he growled, his voice a low vibration that I felt in my very marrow. "Soaking wet for me before I’ve even touched you p