All Chapters of After Midnight With Him : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Sophia Bennett“Ah, fuck, Mark, yes, I love this, you're so big—”The words shattered something inside me. A strangled gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it.Tears streamed silently down my cheeks. For several seconds, neither of them noticed me standing there.I wished I could move. I wished I could run, but my feet felt rooted to the floor. My eyes remained fixed on Ethan. Five years, Five years together, Five years of believing he loved me. And now I was watching him look happier than I had ever seen him.My chest tightened painfully.The man lying beside him laughed softly. "You've got to be kidding me, Ethan."My voice came out as nothing more than a broken whisper, The room fell silent. Both men turned toward me.I waited for shock, or panic, or guilt. Instead, neither of them looked surprised.Ethan simply stared at me.The other man sighed."See?" he said, looking at Ethan. "I told you she would react exactly like this."The words hit me harder than a punch. "You knew?"

Sophia BennettI stared at the whiskey bottle in my hand before setting it down heavily on the counter."That's the story of my life," I muttered bitterly.The bartender glanced up from the glass he was polishing and studied me for a moment.Honestly, I couldn't even remember how I had ended up there. The last thing I remembered was storming out of Ethan's apartment. After that, everything was a blurI had planned to check into a hotel, lock myself inside a room, and spend the night alone. Instead, I somehow found myself sitting in a bar. Maybe it was because I didn't want to think. Maybe it was because I didn't want to cry. Or maybe I simply wanted something strong enough to numb the pain.Whatever the reason, I had ordered the strongest whiskey they had. Now the bottle was almost empty. I lifted it and laughed humorlessly."My fiancé is gay."The bartender paused. I pointed the bottle toward him. "The man I was supposed to marry in five days is gay. Tell me, what would you do if yo

Sophia BennettThe words echoed in my head like a filthy refrain I couldn’t silence: I am going to suck a dick.I was kneeling on the bed in nothing but the thin tank top that had ridden up my hips, my hands wrapped around a stranger’s waist. My cheek hovered so close to the sharp cut of muscle disappearing beneath the dangerous white towel that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. In any other circumstance, I would never have done this. No amount of alcohol, no depth of desperation, could have pushed me to my knees like this in real life. Even with Ethan—when he refused to touch me, when he finished in under two minutes and left me aching and unsatisfied—I had never begged. I had simply turned away, swallowed my frustration, and pretended it didn’t matter. I had my pride. I had boundaries.But this wasn’t real life. This was a dream, and my body was screaming for it.My skin felt too tight, my pulse throbbed between my legs, and every breath dragged like fire through my lun

Sophia BennettI froze the moment the words left his mouth. The heat that had been consuming me, the desperate ache between my legs, everything stuttered to a halt as Damien’s low, commanding voice cut through the haze.“Are you a virgin?”The question hung in the air like a challenge. My heart slammed against my ribs. I lay there beneath him, breasts still exposed from where he’d yanked my bra down, my panties somewhere on the floor, my body slick and trembling with need. He was watching me too closely, those dark eyes searching my face as if he could peel back every secret I’d ever kept.He asked again, slower this time, his voice rough with restraint. “Are you a virgin, Sophia?”“No,” I whispered, the single word barely audible. Heat rushed to my cheeks. I wasn’t—not technically—but the way he was looking at me made me feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being naked.His gaze dropped between my thighs, where his fingers had just been buried deep inside me, stretching

Sophia BennettMy face burned as if I’d been slapped, the heat spreading down my neck and across my entire body until even my fingertips felt scorched. Embarrassment choked me like a too-tight collar, making it hard to draw a full breath. I sat on the edge of the massive bed, the sheet clutched desperately to my chest, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. God, I hated this. I hated the sticky evidence of last night clinging to my skin, hated the faint ache between my thighs that served as a humiliating reminder, and most of all, hated the polished stranger standing a respectful distance away, envelope in hand, watching me with careful, professional detachment.“Name your price,” he said again, his voice smooth and unwavering.I stared at him, anger cutting through the shame like a knife. “Do I look like a sex worker to you?” The words flew out sharper than I intended, laced with disbelief and rising fury. My voice cracked slightly on the last syllable, betraying how c