Todos los capítulos de Flames Of Hot & Steamy Collection : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

Kael did as he had decided.He climbed onto the edge of the heavy metal desk with steady limbs and positioned himself on all fours, ass up and face down. The deliberate pose left him completely exposed, his body already humming under the weight of what he was about to take.Riven stood at the edge of the desk, staring down at him. The sight made something dark and primal flare in his eyes. He stepped closer and brought his large hand down hard on Kael’s ass cheek with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the quiet room.“You look dangerous like this,” Riven said, voice low and rough. His hand squeezed the reddened flesh, spreading Kael’s cheeks apart as he admired the view.“Don’t make me wait,” Kael said, voice steady even as heat curled low in his gut. “You know what I came for. Give it to me.”His words did not soften the Alpha.“You should have thought about that before walking into my quarters and tying that cloth over your own eyes,” Riven replied, the resistance in him neither har

Chapter 54I should have left the second she walked into the kitchen.Nessa stood there in one of her brother’s old hoodies, bare legs, hair still damp from a shower, looking at me like I’d already done something wrong just by existing in the same space. Twenty-two to my twenty-six. Too young. And also an off-limits. Too fucking familiar with the exact way to get under my skin.We hadn’t been alone in this house in months. Her brother—my best friend—was out of town for the weekend. I was only here to drop off the tools I’d borrowed. That was the plan. In and out. No conversation.She ruined it the way she always did.“You’re still here,” she said. Not a question. But an accusation.“I’m already leaving.” I set the toolbox on the counter harder than I needed to. “Tell him I brought them back.”She didn’t move out of the doorway. Just leaned against the frame, arms crossed, watching me with that sharp little look she’d perfected years ago. The same look that used to make me stare too lo

I had wanted to destroy her for months.Freya had walked into my world with a stolen last name, a fabricated fortune, and the kind of smile that made people believe whatever pretty lie she told them. She had taken meetings that should have been mine, laughed in rooms that belonged to my family, and looked at me like she already owned the ground I stood on. I had spent every public second making sure she knew she was a fraud. I had spent every private second trying not to notice the way my pulse kicked—and my pussy clenched—when she walked into a room.Tonight I finally had her.The library door locked behind me with a soft, final click. Freya stood by the desk with a folder still half-hidden behind her back—my family’s private ledgers, the ones she had no business touching. Her chest rose and fell too fast. The black dress she wore for dinner clung to her like it was painted on, outlining every curve. She looked cornered and furious and so fucking beautiful it made my teeth ache and m

I had spent an entire semester wanting to prove Professor Grey wrong.He stood at the front of the seminar room like he owned every idea that had ever been written, sleeves rolled up, voice calm and cutting. The rest of the graduate students stayed quiet when he spoke. I never did. Today was no different.“Your analysis is reductive,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my heart was already beating too fast. “You’re treating the text like it exists in a vacuum. Context matters. Power dynamics matter. You’re ignoring half the scholarship from the last decade.”A few heads turned. Someone shifted in their seat. Grey looked at me over the top of his glasses, the same way he always did—like I was an interesting problem he hadn’t decided whether to solve or dismiss.“Miss Torres,” he said, my name slow and deliberate. “If you have a more sophisticated reading, by all means. Enlighten us.”The challenge sat in the air between us. I could feel the heat rising in my face, but I refuse

I had been careful for six years.Six years of laughing at the right moments, of pulling my hand back before it could linger, of making sure I never stared too long when Victor pulled his shirt off after practice or fell asleep on my couch with his mouth slightly open. Six years of treating the way my chest tightened around him like a problem I could outrun if I just stayed busy enough.Victor was the kind of straight that never had to think about it. He’d said it casually over the years—jokes about guys who “switched teams,” a visible flinch when two men kissed in a movie, the way he once changed the subject hard when a mutual friend came out. He never said anything cruel. He just made it clear, without ever needing to raise his voice, that it wasn’t for him. That it would never be for him.I knew. I had always known. And I still couldn’t stop.That night we were at his apartment because his girlfriend had just dumped him in the middle of a restaurant and he hadn’t wanted to be alone