All Chapters of Steamy Encounters: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

A few hours later, my legs still felt like they didn’t fully belong to me. Every step sent a deep, satisfying ache through my core and the insides of my thighs. It was a constant reminder of how thoroughly the Mendez twins had used me on the floor of that private room. Nico had helped me into the adjoining bathroom so I could clean up as best I could while Luca gathered my torn underwear and ruined pants. They had given me a soft pair of lounge pants that hung low on my hips and a clean shirt that smelled faintly of expensive cologne. Even dressed again, I walked with a careful, uneven gait, one hand occasionally bracing against the wall as we moved toward the front of the house.Luca walked on my left and Nico on my right, both of them watching me with quiet, satisfied intensity. Neither of them looked particularly sorry about the state they had left me in.“Since yu’re limping,” Nico started, his mismatched eyes tracking the careful way I placed each foot. “We might have been a litt

I woke up the next morning still furious and still wearing yesterday’s dress because none of them had bothered to give me anything else to put on. The cabin was quiet except for the occasional creak of wood and the low sound of wind moving through the pines outside. My head no longer felt heavy from whatever they had put in my neck, but the rest of me was wound so tight I could barely sit still. I swung my legs out of bed and immediately tried the door again even though I already knew what I would find. Locked. Of course it was locked. I rattled the handle hard enough to make my palm sting and muttered every curse I knew under my breath before giving up and turning back to the room.They had left my bag near the foot of the bed at some point during the night. I had not noticed it when I first woke up yesterday. I dropped to my knees and yanked it open, digging through the mess of makeup, perfume, and random receipts until my fingers closed around the one thing I actually needed—my lo

After a full week of locked doors and the same four walls and the same three men who refused to give me even the smallest scrap of freedom, I finally snapped in the most deliberate way I could manage. I walked into the main room, where they were all gathered around the long wooden table with maps and files and whatever else they used to track the outside world I wasn't allowed to touch, and I planted my hands on my hips.“I am bored out of my fucking mind,” I said, loud enough that all three of them looked up. “You took my phone, the internet, and every single way I have to contact anyone or even distract myself, and now you expect me to just sit here like a good little hostage and stare at trees all day. Give me a phone. Even a basic one. Something. Anything.”Damian did not even blink. “No.” “No?” I repeated. “That’s it? Just no?” “You heard him,” Rhys said from his chair, that sharp little smile already in place. “No phone. No outside contact. That is the entire point of a safeho

I found Sam at the long table in the main room, files spread out and a laptop open, its screen casting a low blue light across his face. He didn't look up when I walked in, wearing only one of their shirts, the fabric hanging open. I climbed onto the table first, then swung a leg over his lap and settled my bare weight right over the hard line already forming in his jeans.“I’m working,” he mumbled. “Then keep working.” I reached between us, freed him, and sank onto his cock in one slow slide that made both of us exhale. He was thick enough that the stretch still stole my breath even after everything we had already done. I braced my hands on his shoulders and started riding him in deep, rolling circles, taking every inch the way I wanted it. Sam’s jaw flexed. He kept one hand on the edge of the table like he was trying to stay focused on the screen, but the other slid under the shirt and gripped my ass hard enough to guide my rhythm. “You’re going to make me mess up the reports.” “

Two weeks later, the office had started to feel smaller every time I walked in; the same conference room somehow holding less air even though nothing about the square footage had changed, and Brandon was always already there when I arrived, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tablet and sketch rolls spread across the long table like he had claimed the entire surface as territory. We stayed later than anyone else now, the rest of the team filtering out by seven. At the same time, the two of us kept circling the same unresolved layout. Somewhere between the eighth consecutive late night and the ninth, I started noticing things I had no business noticing, the way the veins in his forearms shifted when he braced his weight on the table, the quiet concentration that settled over his face when he stopped performing and worked, and the low sound of his breathing when the room went still. I told myself it was proximity and nothing more, the natural result of being forced into the same four walls