WICKED INHERITANCE
Her breath hitched when he pushed inside her—slow, deliberate, stretching her around him until her nails dug into his shoulders.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, forehead pressed to hers.
She shook her head.
He moved then, setting a brutal rhythm, the desk creaking beneath them. Every thrust felt like a theft, a betrayal she welcomed. She bit his shoulder to keep quiet, the taste of skin grounding her as the pressure built too fast, too hot.
They didn’t pretend it meant anything else.
No promises. No illusions.
Just two people choosing the same destruction.
When it ended, it ended quickly. Sebastian stilled inside her, breath ragged, then pulled back as if burned. He stepped away first, reclaimin
Sikat na Kabanata