Todos los capítulos de RUINED INNOCENCE: 40 Sinful Nights Of Corruption: Capítulo 371 - Capítulo 380

I last until almost midnight before I need water.The house is quiet. My parents’ door is closed. Alex’s parents are in the larger guest suite at the end of the hall. The only light comes from the small lamp I left on in my room and the thin strip of gold under Alex’s door directly across from mine.I tell myself I’m just thirsty. That I’m not listening for movement on the other side of that door. That the cross around my neck still means something.I open my door as quietly as possible.Alex’s opens at the exact same time.He’s leaning against the frame like he’s been waiting, barefoot, black T-shirt clinging to his chest, dark sweatpants sitting low on his hips. The hallway is narrow. Too narrow. The only way to the stairs is past him.I freeze.He doesn’t smile this time. He just looks at me, slow and steady, the same way he looked at me that night right before he told me to get on the bed.“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asks, voice low.“I needed water.” My own voice sounds thin.Ale

I make it through dinner.I make it through the forced conversation in the living room. I make it through the moment Alex’s knee brushes mine under the table and my entire body goes tight. I excuse myself early, claim a headache, and shut myself in my room before anyone can follow.I lock the door.Then I unlock it again.I don’t examine why.The house settles into night sounds—distant television, the low murmur of our parents talking downstairs, the occasional creak of floorboards. I sit on the edge of my bed in the dark with my head in my hands and try, one last time, to pray the ache away.It doesn’t work.Every time I close my eyes I feel his chest against mine in the kitchen. The strength in the hand that held my wrists. The almost-kiss that never landed. The quiet way he said that’s the first crack like he was naming something already permanent.I’m hard. I’ve been hard on and off all evening. The shame of it sits in my throat like something I can’t swallow.I tell myself I will

I shouldn’t have been this wet.The tray in my hands trembled as I stood outside Mr. Blackwood’s study door, the crystal glasses clinking softly against each other. My white maid’s uniform clung to my skin in the humid summer air of the mansion. The short skirt barely covered the tops of my thighs. The little white apron sat high on my waist, drawing attention to how small I was compared to the man waiting on the other side of that door.I was twenty. Still a virgin. Still the quiet girl from the village who had never been kissed properly, never had a man’s hands under her clothes. And yet every night for the past three months I had gone to bed with my fingers buried between my legs, biting the pillow so the other staff wouldn’t hear me moan his name.Logan Blackwood.Thirty-eight. Cold. Filthy rich. The kind of man who looked at people like they existed only to serve him. He barely spoke to me. He never smiled. But sometimes… sometimes when I bent to pour his whiskey, I felt his eyes

He didn’t let me recover.Logan pulled out of my throbbing, freshly fucked cunt with a wet sound that made my face burn. A thick rush of his cum followed, spilling down my thighs and onto the desk in long, sticky strands. I tried to close my legs. He stopped me with one hand, spreading me open so he could watch his seed leak out of the hole he had just claimed.“Messy already,” he murmured, almost to himself. Two thick fingers pushed back inside me, scooping up the mixture of my juices and his cum, then shoving it deeper. “Keep it in. I want you walking around this house still full of me.”I whimpered. My pussy was sore, oversensitive, fluttering around his fingers. The second orgasm still had my legs shaking.He wiped his hand on my inner thigh, then scooped me off the desk like I weighed nothing. My naked body was pressed against his chest, still half-dressed, his cock wet and shiny against my hip. He carried me out of the study and down the long, dark hallway without a word.I shou

I hated him the second he walked into the conference room.Rhys Voss didn’t just enter a space—he took it. Tall, broad-shouldered, black suit cut like it was designed to make women stupid, dark hair slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it after fucking someone against a wall. His eyes found me the moment the door clicked shut, and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.Five years.Five years since he left me standing in the rain outside that shitty apartment with his come still drying on my thighs and the words “This was a mistake” still ringing in my ears.Now he was the new majority shareholder of the magazine I had bled for, and I was the only senior editor who hadn’t kissed his ass on the way in.“Miss Kane,” he said, voice low and smooth, like he hadn’t once groaned my name while he was buried inside me. “I didn’t expect to see you still here.”I kept my expression blank even though my pulse was already hammering between my legs. Traitorous body. It r