All Chapters of MY FATHER'S BESTFRIEND [short steamy stories]: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Clara stood in the foyer, her thin cotton dress clinging to her curves in translucent patches. The air smelled of salt, wet stone, and a lingering scent of cedar.Rowan Blackwood stood at the top of the sweeping mahogany staircase. He looked down at her with eyes the color of a winter sea. His silhouette was a sharp line against the dim amber light of the gallery."You are late, Miss Finch," he said. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated in Clara's chest. He did not move to greet her."The carriage axle snapped two miles from the gate," Clara replied. She clutched her small leather valise to her chest. She felt small beneath the towering ceilings of the estate."The roads here are treacherous for those who do not know them," Rowan remarked. He began to descend the stairs with a slow, predatory grace. His boots clicked rhythmically on the polished wood."I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Blackwood," she whispered. She looked up as he reached the final step. He was significantly

The sound of their interaction was loud and wet, the squelching of his cock in her tight pussy filling the library. He gripped her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck."Tell me you hate me while I fuck you," he commanded. He slammed his hips against hers, his balls slapping her skin with a heavy thud."I hate you!" she shrieked. She felt the orgasm rushing toward her, fueled by the betrayal. She clamped her legs around him, pulling him deeper.Rowan groaned, his movements becoming more frantic. He felt the heat of her pussy squeezing his shaft. He drove himself into her one last time, his seed erupting in hot waves against her cervix.He collapsed against her, his breath ragged. They stayed there, intertwined among the books, the silence of the house returning.As Rowan pulled away, Clara looked at him with a strange expression. The fear was gone, replaced by something colder and more calculated. She smiled, a small, sharp thing."You think you've won, don't you?" she asked

He never left her side. His hand was a permanent fixture on the small of her back, a constant reminder of his presence. Whenever someone approached, Jaxson stepped slightly forward, his body creating a physical barrier."Jaxson, darling! It's been too long," a man in a shimmering silver tuxedo exclaimed."Marcus," Jaxson replied, his voice clipped. "I trust the firm is doing well.""Thriving. And this must be the elusive Seraphina. I've heard so much."Marcus reached out to shake Seraphina's hand. Before her fingers could meet his, Jaxson shifted. He didn't block the hand, but he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her flush against his side."Seraphina is feeling a bit under the weather," Jaxson said smoothly. "We won't be staying long.""Oh, what a shame! I was hoping to discuss the gallery opening with her."Seraphina tried to speak, to tell Marcus she was fine, but Jaxson’s fingers pressed into her hip. It was a silent warning. She swallowed her words and offered a tight, fra

Mia lay trapped in a bed of Egyptian cotton, her legs heavy and useless beneath the duvet."It is time for your afternoon assessment, Mia," Vance said, his voice a smooth, low rumble that vibrated in the quiet room.He stepped into her line of sight, the crisp white of his lab coat contrasting with the deep mahogany of his tailored trousers. His eyes, a piercing shade of slate, scanned her pale form with a mixture of clinical precision and something far more predatory."Do I have to do the leg lifts today?" Mia asked, her voice small and strained.Vance smiled, a thin, knowing expression that didn't reach his eyes. He moved closer, the scent of his cologne—something dark and spicy—filling her nostrils as he leaned over her."Consistency is the only path to recovery, my dear," he whispered.He reached down, his large, warm hand gripping her calf with a firm, possessive strength. He began to massage the dormant muscle, his thumb digging into the flesh in a way that felt less like therap

The iron gates groaned open, admitting her into a world of manicured silence and oppressive luxury.Caspian Thorne waited in the foyer, a silhouette of tailored charcoal wool and absolute authority.He didn't move as she stepped inside, the scent of sandalwood and old money clinging to the air."You're trembling, Nora," he remarked, his voice a low, resonant hum that vibrated in her chest."I didn't know where else to go," she whispered, her voice cracking.Caspian stepped closer, the polished leather of his shoes clicking on the marble.He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a possessive slowness."The people hunting you cannot find a ghost," he said.Nora looked up at him, seeing the predatory glint in his slate-gray eyes."What do I have to do?" she asked.Caspian smiled, a thin, dangerous curve of the lips."You surrender everything," he replied."Everything?""Your name, your history, your will," he murmured, leaning in until his breath warmed her ear."In exc