Semua Bab Forbidden Heat: Tales of untamed desires: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Brighg lights from my Hollywood mansion cast a soft glow as I met Jax in the private gym. As a glamorous starlet with an hourglass figure, I needed perfect preparation for intimate scenes. Hiring him as stunt double for rehearsals made sense. His strikingly attractive build and ex-special forces discipline showed in every move."Ready to practice, Sophia?" His voice is steady and deep.We started slow with scripted touches. His Hands on my waist turned real quick. Chemistry exploded. I pulled him closer. Kiss hungry. He responded commandingly.Clothes dropped on mats. He lifted me to the bench. My mouth explored my full breasts. Then between thighs. Tongue skillful. "Delicious."I gasped, gripping shoulders. "There. Keep licking."Fingers joined. The Climax hit strongly. Then he entered, thick length stretching. "Full and hard. Move."Thrust is powerful. "Faster, Jax." Skin met loud. "Take every inch."I came clenching. He released deep. Panted together. "Electric," I said."More than

The old university library smelled of aged paper and secrets. It was past eleven when I slipped between the tall shelves in the restricted section, heart racing. No one was supposed to be here this late, but I couldn’t resist. My fingers trembled as I pulled out a worn leather book titled Forbidden Desires of the Victorian Age. The pages held explicit stories that made my cheeks burn and my body ache.I settled on the floor behind a dusty shelf, a flashlight on my phone, and opened the book. The words painted vivid pictures — hands sliding under skirts, mouths claiming skin, bodies pressed together in hidden corners. My breathing grew shallow. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to ignore the growing heat between them.“What are you reading, Miss Vale?”The deep voice startled me. I dropped the book. Professor Adrian Blackwood stood at the end of the aisle, tall and imposing in a dark sweater that hugged his broad shoulders. At forty-one, he had silver threading through his black ha

I stepped into the exclusive BDSM club called The Vault wearing a short black dress that barely covered my thighs and a mask that hid half my face. My heart pounded against my ribs. This was supposed to be research for my exposé on underground kink scenes. I had spent weeks preparing fake credentials and a cover story. No one was supposed to know I was really Isabella Reed, investigative journalist.The air inside smelled of leather, sweat, and expensive perfume. Dim red lights cast shadows across people in various states of undress. Moans and the sharp sound of paddles echoed from different rooms. I clutched my small purse containing a hidden recorder and tried to look like I belonged.A tall man approached me within minutes. He wore a perfectly tailored black shirt open at the collar, revealing a strong chest. His dark hair was slicked back, and his eyes held an intensity that made my stomach flip. Rafael Cortez. I recognized him from my research as the owner.“New face,” he said sm

I hated Nathan Drake with every fiber of my being. For six years we had clashed in courtrooms, stolen clients from each other, and traded vicious barbs in legal circles. Now the biggest merger case of our careers has forced our firms to work together. Same team. Same hotel conference suite for late nights. Pure torture.It was past midnight on the third day when the tension finally snapped.The conference table was covered in documents and empty coffee cups. I stood stretching my back in my tight pencil skirt and blouse when Nathan walked back from the bathroom. His tie was loose, sleeves rolled up, showing those strong forearms I secretly noticed too often.“Stop staring, Lang,” he said with that smug smirk. “You look like you want to kill me or fuck me.”“Both,” I shot back. “Preferably at the same time.”The air shifted. He stepped closer, eyes darkening. “You’ve always had a smart mouth. Someone should shut it up properly.”Before I could respond, Nathan grabbed me and kissed me h

The remote island research station felt like the edge of the world. I had been here for three months studying coral reefs, clashing constantly with Captain Ronan Hale. At forty-two, he was rugged, bossy, and built like someone who lived on the sea. We were complete opposites. I was a careful scientist. He was the rough captain who thought rules were suggestions.The tropical storm changed everything.Winds howled outside as rain slammed against the metal roof. Our supply boat had left days early, leaving just the two of us. The main lab building lost power, forcing us into the tiny emergency cabin. One room. One bed. No escape.“Looks like we’re stuck together, Larsen,” Ronan said, shaking water from his dark hair. His shirt clung to his broad chest, showing every muscle.I crossed my arms, trying to ignore how my body reacted. “Great. Just what I needed. Days of your attitude.”He stepped closer, filling the small space. “My attitude? You’ve been glaring at me since you arrived. Walk