All Chapters of UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME: Chapter 301 - Chapter 310

(Adrian) The nausea had finally subsided. For the first time in days, my stomach felt almost calm as I sat in the study, the morning light filtering weakly through the rain-streaked glass. The relief should have been welcome. Instead, the moment I opened the dummy account and read her latest reply, a different kind of heat flooded my body. I’m starving of your hugeness. Just tell me when. My cock hardened instantly, thick and aching, pressing painfully against my pants. The words hit like a spark on dry tinder. She was starving for me. For this. For the same desperate connection I had been craving since the dark room. Maybe she was touching herself right now, fingers sliding through slick heat, imagining me stretching her open again. The thought made me throb harder. I locked the study door. I needed a moment. Just one private moment before Kathryn came looking for me. I pulled my cock out, already leaking, heavy in my hand. It felt bigger than usual, swollen with week

(Adrian) I was still locked in the study, pants around my ankles, hand wrapped around my aching cock when the notification came. The dummy account had replied. I opened it with my free hand, breathing already ragged. The video loaded — muted, no face, just her body on what looked like a bed. Legs spread. Fingers sliding through glistening folds, then pushing inside. The way she arched. The tremble in her thighs. The slick sounds I could imagine even without audio. I knew that pussy. I knew every fold, every shade, every way it opened and clenched. It was Alessa. No doubt. The same body I had worshipped in the dark room last night. The same one I had memorized years ago. “Oh my God, Alessa…” I groaned aloud, voice hoarse. “I missed you so much. I know exactly how your pussy looks like.” The hunger hit me like a second wave. I restarted the Victor video — the one zoomed in tight on the moment I entered her — and played her new video right beside it. Side by side. Her fin

(Adrian) I arrived thirty minutes early. The blackout suite was already dim when I stepped inside. Only the faint silhouette lighting glowed in the shower area, casting soft amber outlines. She was there. Waiting. The shape of her hit me instantly — the curve of her waist, the way she stood with quiet anticipation. It was Alessa. I knew it in every cell of my body. But I pretended I didn’t. She wore a different perfume tonight — something darker, warmer, with a hint of spice that made my cock twitch before I even touched her. Her dress was alluring, clinging to every line of her body like liquid shadow. I crossed the room without a word. Rules were rules. Only touch. My hands found her first. I slid them slowly up her sides, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric. Her nipples were already hard, pressing against the material like they were begging for attention. I groaned low in my throat and leaned down, kissing along her collarbone, then lower, dropping to my

( Adrian) The drive back to the penthouse felt longer than it should have. My body was spent, muscles aching in the best and worst ways, but the nausea had returned like a quiet shadow the moment I left the blackout suite. It wasn’t as violent as before — just a low, persistent churn that reminded me I couldn’t outrun anything, not even in the dark. I kept one hand on the wheel and the other pressed lightly to my stomach, as if that could somehow calm the child I believed was growing inside Alessa. I whispered to the empty car, voice rough from hours of silence and suppressed groans. “You’re really making me feel this, aren’t you? Every time I think I can escape into the game, you pull me back.” The dark room had been everything I needed and nothing I could keep. She had been there again — same alluring dress, same different perfume, same perfect way her body opened for me. I had pretended not to know her. I had fucked her like she was a stranger while knowing every curve,

(Adrian) I tried to rest. After leaving the clinic, I drove straight back to the penthouse instead of returning to the office. My body was screaming for a break. The nausea had been manageable earlier, but the confirmation — two months and three weeks — had turned it into something sharper, more personal. I collapsed onto the couch in the living room, shoes still on, jacket tossed aside, and closed my eyes. The city hummed far below the glass walls, indifferent as always. For ten blessed minutes, the sickness stayed quiet. Then it struck harder than it ever had. It came like a tidal wave — no warning, no gradual build. One second I was breathing steadily, the next my stomach convulsed so violently I barely made it to the bathroom before I was on my knees, retching with nothing left to give. My entire body shook. Sweat poured down my back. I gripped the edge of the toilet, gasping between heaves, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. This wasn’t just nausea anymore.