Todos los capítulos de RUINED INNOCENCE: 40 Sinful Nights Of Corruption: Capítulo 421 - Capítulo 430

Morning light found us still tangled together.I woke to the slow drag of Liam’s fingers along my spine, tracing every mark he’d left the day before. My body felt used in the best way—sore, sensitive, claimed. His cock rested heavy against my thigh, already interested, but he didn’t push inside me right away. He just kept touching me like he was memorizing the shape of my back.“Last morning,” I said quietly. The words tasted wrong.Liam’s hand stilled. Then he rolled me onto my back and settled between my thighs, bracing himself over me. His eyes were clearer than they’d been at any point in the last three days—no sleep-roughness, no pure hunger. Something steadier.“Is it?” he asked.I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how.He leaned down and kissed me, slow and deep, while he reached between us and guided himself into me. The stretch was familiar now, almost comforting. He fucked me like that for a long time—unhurried, thorough, eyes never leaving mine. Every time I got close he slowed

He didn’t move for a long moment. His hand stayed on my throat, thumb still resting against that frantic pulse, while the other reached for the phone. The screen lit his face from below, casting sharp shadows under his cheekbones. He unlocked it without looking away from me, then turned the device so the video filled the space between us.The soft sound of my own voice filled the quiet office.“Please… Liam, I miss it so much. Miss being on my knees for you. Miss how you’d make me take it until I couldn’t think.”My stomach twisted. I tried to look away, but Professor Hale’s fingers tightened just enough to keep my chin angled toward the screen.“Watch,” he said.On the recording I was exactly as he had described—naked, eyes wet, lips parted, tongue out in a clear invitation. The camera shook slightly as I shifted closer, one hand sliding down between my legs. I heard myself whimper. Beg. Offer every filthy thing I used to give his son without hesitation.Professor Hale’s breathing st

I heard the soft clink of his belt, the slow drag of the zipper. My body was still trembling from the orgasm he’d forced out of me, hole fluttering and oversensitive, yet the sound alone made my cock twitch against the sticky wood of the desk.Professor Hale’s hand settled between my shoulder blades and pressed me flatter. I went without resistance. The position left me completely open—chest to the desk, ass raised, legs still spread wide from when he’d ordered them that way.I felt the heavy, hot weight of his cock settle against the cleft of my ass. Thick. Fully hard. He didn’t push in. He just rested there, letting me feel the size of him while he stroked himself once, twice, the head catching on my rim with every pass.“You’re still open from my fingers,” he said quietly. “Soft. Ready.” A pause. “I’m not using a condom.”The words landed like a second claim. I should have protested. I didn’t.He spit into his palm again, slicked himself with the same deliberate care he’d used on e

The side door opened without a sound.I stepped into a narrow mudroom that smelled faintly of cedar and the same expensive cologne that had been on his skin two nights ago. The house was quiet. Late afternoon light filtered through the kitchen windows beyond. I closed the door behind me and locked it the way he had locked his office—soft, final.Professor Hale was already there, leaning against the kitchen island in a dark sweater and jeans, sleeves pushed up. No tie. No academic armor. Just the man who had fucked me over his desk and then calmly threatened to destroy what was left of my relationship with his son if I didn’t show up.He looked at the clock on the wall.“Five twenty-eight. Better.”I didn’t answer. My hands were in my pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking.He pushed off the island and walked toward me. When he reached me he didn’t kiss me or touch my face. He simply took my jacket by the collar, peeled it off, and hung it on a hook as if I were a guest who had arrive

I was still wearing the lingerie when the front door finally opened.The black lace set I’d bought three weeks ago sat against my skin like a joke. The matching garter belt dug into my hips. I’d left the candles burning until the wax pooled on the dining table. The steak had gone cold hours ago. The bottle of wine I’d opened at seven was almost empty by the time the clock passed midnight.I didn’t bother turning on the lights when Marcus walked in.He stopped in the doorway, keys still in his hand, and stared at me sitting at the table in the dark. His tie was loose. His shirt looked wrinkled. He smelled like the office and whatever late meeting he’d claimed was more important than our anniversary.“Elena—”“Don’t.” My voice came out quieter than I expected. “Just don’t.”He set his bag down carefully, like the wrong sound might break whatever was left between us. “I know I fucked up. Work ran late and then the client—”“Our anniversary.”The silence stretched. He dragged a hand over