Todos os capítulos de Still Fucking Yours: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Maya woke before the alarm, the way she used to when something in her body already knew the day would cost her. Cass was still asleep, one arm thrown across her stomach, face turned into the pillow. In the gray early light he looked younger. The hard lines around his mouth had softened. She watched him breathe for a while and felt the old familiar fear slide under her ribs like a knife that had learned the exact angle. She had said she was still his. In a restaurant. Against a window. While he was buried inside her. This morning the words sat differently. Heavier. More permanent. She slipped out from under his arm and went to the kitchen barefoot. The coffee maker gurgled. She stood at the counter in one of his shirts and watched the dark liquid fill the pot, trying to decide whether honesty was bravery or just another way to hand him the power to wreck her. Cass appeared in the doorway when the second cup was pouring. Hair messy. Sweatpants low on his hips. He walked up beh

Morning light moved across the bed in slow gold bars. Maya woke to the feel of Cass already inside her. Not thrusting. Just there—deep, thick, filling her completely while she was still half-asleep. His chest pressed to her back, one arm under her head, the other draped over her waist so his hand could rest between her breasts. His mouth brushed the nape of her neck in lazy, open kisses. When she stirred he made a low sound of approval and rolled his hips once, a slow grind that made her breath catch. “Morning,” he murmured against her skin. She didn’t answer with words. She pushed back against him instead, taking him deeper. Cass exhaled hard and began to move in earnest—unhurried, rolling strokes that kept him buried to the hilt on every pass. The angle from behind made everything feel fuller. His hand slid down her stomach and settled between her legs, two fingers framing the place where he stretched her open, feeling himself move in and out of her. They stayed like that

The heavy oak door of the Voss lakeside mansion slammed shut with a resounding boom that echoed through the vast marble foyer, rattling the crystal chandelier overhead. Lila Voss stood there for a moment, chest heaving, the cool evening air from the drive still clinging to her skin. At twenty-two, fresh out of college with a degree she barely gave a shit about, she was done pretending. Done with the polite smiles, the perfect daughter act, and the endless expectations that came with being Richard Voss’s only biological child. This summer was supposed to be hers—lazy days by the private lake, maybe some reckless hookups in the city, anything to shake off the suffocating weight of her father’s empire. But the second she crossed the threshold, that familiar scent hit her like a drug: aged whiskey, expensive leather, and that unmistakable undercurrent of raw, masculine power. Victor Kane. She didn’t even need to see him to know he was here. Her body reacted instantly—pulse quicke

The sun beat down on the private infinity pool like it was in on the secret, turning the water into liquid diamonds. Lila stretched out on a lounge chair in a tiny black bikini that barely qualified as clothing — the top barely contained her full tits, and the bottoms disappeared between her round ass cheeks. She’d chosen it on purpose. Oil glistened on her skin, making every curve shine. She knew Victor was watching from the shaded cabana. He’d been “working” on his laptop for the last hour, but his eyes hadn’t left her once. She rolled onto her stomach, arching her back slightly so her ass popped higher. The heat between her legs had nothing to do with the sun. After last night — his thick cock down her throat and those three fingers leaving her empty and desperate — she was feral. Victor finally stood. His swim trunks did nothing to hide the heavy outline of his cock as he walked over, every step deliberate. He stopped beside her chair, towering, casting a shadow over her b

Dinner had been torture. Sophia had slithered into the dining room like she owned the place, wearing a slinky red dress that hugged every curve and dipped so low her tits were practically spilling out. She’d laughed too loud at Victor’s dry comments, leaned in too close when passing him the wine, and “accidentally” brushed her hand along his arm every chance she got. Lila had sat across from them, fork clenched so tight her knuckles went white, watching her stepsister flirt shamelessly with the man who’d fucked her senseless by the pool and on his desk just hours earlier. Victor’s eyes had flicked to Lila occasionally — dark, knowing — but he hadn’t stopped Sophia. Not really. By the time dessert was cleared, Lila was vibrating with rage and need. She found them on the back terrace after dinner. Sophia was practically in Victor’s lap on the wide outdoor couch, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger while she whispered something that made him smirk. Lila’s