บททั้งหมดของ Sinful Dark Desires {a collection of steamy stories}: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

I stood frozen in the doorway of the guest room, heart slamming against my ribs like it wanted to escape. The thin nightgown suddenly felt transparent under the low lamp light. Marcus’s intense green eyes dragged slowly down my body, taking in the way my hard nipples poked shamelessly against the fabric, the rapid rise and fall of my chest, and the way my thighs pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to ease the ache between them.He didn’t move toward me at first. He just stood there — shirtless, powerfully built, every muscle defined and shifting with each controlled breath. The tattoos on his shoulder and ribs seemed to come alive under the warm light. His cock was fully hard now, thick and heavy, straining obscenely against the front of his gray sweatpants. A small, dark wet spot had already formed at the tip where he had leaked through the fabric.“Close the door,” he said quietly. His voice was rough, controlled, but I could hear the strain in it — the same barely-leashed

The next morning, guilt sat heavy in my stomach like a stone. I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, the memory returned with brutal clarity—Marcus’s thick fingers stretching me open, the low, filthy rumble of his voice against my ear, the way he had held me in place while I shattered around him. My pussy was still tender and slick from the orgasm he’d forced out of me while my husband slept just across the hall. The faint ache between my legs was a constant, humiliating reminder of how hard I had come… and how little I had resisted. Ethan had pulled me close sometime in the night, his arm draped loosely over my waist, his breathing steady and trusting against the back of my neck. I had laid there frozen, body still humming, mind screaming at me for what I had done. The betrayal sat thick in my throat. This was wrong. So dangerously, unforgivably wrong. But the ache between my legs refused to let me forget how good it had felt. I could barely sleep until, I noticed su

The day dragged on in agonizing tension. Marcus worked from his laptop at the dining table, but his eyes followed me everywhere. Every time I walked past him, every stretch or casual movement—I felt his stare like a physical touch. He didn’t touch me again that day. He was waiting. Building the anticipation until I was a nervous, aching wreck by the time Ethan came home. Around mid-morning I was in the kitchen making a second cup of coffee when he spoke without looking up from his screen. “You’re restless,” he said quietly. I froze with the mug in my hand. “I’m fine.” Marcus finally glanced over, green eyes sharp. “You’re not fine. You’ve been avoiding looking at me for the last hour.” I set the mug down harder than necessary. “What do you want me to do? Act normal after… last night? and this morning?” A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I want you to stop pretending you didn’t like it.” My cheeks burned. I turned away, pretending to wipe the count

Ava Rivers stared at the latest message on her phone until the words blurred.Unknown: You think you’re untouchable? Keep posting that perfect life. I’ll ruin it.Her stomach twisted hard enough that she almost felt sick. This was the third threat in two weeks. The first ones had been easy to dismiss—jealous comments, bitter emoji chains, the usual noise that came with having a following. This one felt different. Quieter. More personal. Like whoever was behind it already knew exactly where to press.She locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the couch, dragging both hands through her long dark hair. The apartment felt suddenly too quiet, the late-afternoon light slanting across the polished floors and the carefully styled living room she used for content. Everything looked perfect. Controlled. Safe. The message made it all feel like paper.Her phone rang almost immediately. Her father’s name flashed across the screen.She answered with a sigh that did nothin

The studio was already buzzing when Ava arrived with Roman at her side.Lights spilled across white cycloramas and polished concrete. Racks of designer clothes lined one wall, clipboards and coffee cups moved between half a dozen people who all seemed to be talking at once. The air smelled like hairspray, new fabric, and the faint metallic tang of equipment. Maya was already there, deep in conversation with the photographer, but she broke off the second she spotted them and crossed the floor with a grin.“There’s my star,” she said, pulling Ava into a quick hug before eyeing Roman over her shoulder. “And her shadow.”Roman gave her a short nod. His eyes were already moving—exits, windows, the number of people, the positions of the lighting stands. He didn’t like it. Too many bodies. Too many unfamiliar faces. Too many places someone could disappear into or emerge from without warning.Ava felt his presence behind her like a physical weight as she was led to