บททั้งหมดของ Twisted Ecstasy : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

I watch Ace zip the last compartment of his suitcase and straighten with that easy half-smile he always wears when a long trip begins. Ten days in Singapore this time. Client meetings stacked so tightly that he already looks half gone from the apartment. “You two try not to burn the place down,” he says, clapping my shoulder. Cherry stands near the door in one of his white shirts, sleeves rolled, bare legs crossed at the ankle. She laughs softly and tells him to text when he lands. He kisses her quickly, forehead first, then mouth, before disappearing through the door. The lock clicks behind him. The quiet that follows feels thicker than usual. Dropping onto the couch, I open my laptop like nothing has shifted. Cherry moves through the kitchen, filling the kettle, her footsteps soft against the wood. Steam rises. She pours two mugs without asking and brings mine over, setting it on the table. Her wrist brushes my arm. Warm. She settles at the opposite end of the couch, legs tucke

Thursday morning brings another trip, this one with a longer itinerary. Eight days across two cities. He kisses Cherry at the door and tells me to keep an eye on the place like always. The suitcase rolls away. The lock clicks. The apartment settles into a different kind of quiet. Cherry does not hesitate. She walks straight to me, takes my face in both hands, and kisses me like she has been holding her breath. We end up against the wall in the hallway. Her fingers work my belt open while my mouth stays on hers. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me. I push inside her right there, her back pressed to the cool plaster. She bites my shoulder to stay quiet even though no one else is home. I drive into her in short thrusts until her body tightens and she comes with a muffled cry. I cum too, my forehead pressed to the wall above her head. We do not talk about stopping anymore. The days settle into a pattern. Ace sends his usual check-in texts. Cherry answers them from my bed while

One step into the private suite on the thirty-second floor of Valemont Tower, and the door seals behind me with a muted electronic click.Everything is exactly where I ordered it. Low amber lighting washes the room in bronze. A wide bed dressed in black silk dominates one side, while a single dark leather chair sits opposite it, positioned for an unobstructed view of the entire suite. Cedar lingers in the air, threaded with something colder and sharper beneath it.My pulse is already climbing.I slip out of my coat and leave it on the side table. Beneath it, I am wearing a tailored silver dress that ends midway along my thighs and nothing else. No jewelry. No perfume. Nothing between my skin and the authority I walked in carrying.Settling into the chair, I cross one leg over the other.The side door opens.He steps through without a stitch of clothing except for the narrow black collar around his throat.Percy Hunter.Six foot two, broad through the shoulders without carrying unneces

Fully dressed in black trousers and an open shirt, I arrive at the suite and enter. Percy stands instead of kneeling. The collar is still at his throat, but everything else is different.“You are early.” His voice carries the same low register, yet it is stripped of its usual deference.I close the door behind me. “I set the terms. You wait for me to decide.”He smiles faintly. “Do you?”The question hangs between us. I open my mouth to correct him, but the words stall. He steps closer, stopping just outside my space.“Take off the coat.”The command is quiet. My hands move before my mind catches up. The coat hits the floor. Underneath, I wear the same black dress I always do. Nothing beneath it.His eyes travel the length of me without permission. The look is no longer hungry service. It is measured. Calm. Possessive.“The dress next.”I badly want to refuse, to remind him who pays and who gives the orders. Instead, the zipper slides down my spine under my own fingers, and the fabric

With the phone face down on the nightstand, I force my breathing to match hers. Liora shifts against my chest, one thigh sliding higher until the soft heat of her body rests over me. Even soft, I feel the slick reminder of last night. She wakes the way she does everything, fully present, eyes sharp the second they open. “You are thinking too hard already,” she says, her voice rough with sleep. Her hand trails down my stomach and wraps around me. I thicken beneath her fingers before I can stop it. “Whatever is spinning around in that head of yours can wait.” In one smooth motion, she straddles me, reaches between us, and settles onto me. The sudden heat forces a groan. Both palms press against my chest as she starts to move, slow rolls of her hips that draw a reaction from me every time she sits down. I grip her waist and thrust up hard. “Harder,” she breathes. “You always fucked me like you were trying to crawl inside my skin.” I sit up, wrap an arm around her back, and flip us