Yep, he’s said it. He’s done it again. And that look of shock on her face saddens him. Suddenly, she isn’t aroused anymore, the sparkle of desire in her eyes lost as his words register in her mind. However, there’s a softness underlying her hard gaze, of mild confusion maybe. As if she feels the same way about him. It should be scary to him, he’s aware. That she’s giving him that same look of disapproval again. But the way she’s gazing up at him, with those wide, glassy eyes, swollen lips, has him so fucking obsessed. Obsessed in ways that he can’t even begin to explain. For the first time, Luca’s unable to think straight and make solid sense, and she doesn’t even care. She doesn’t care because she wants none of it. What they both share, should be strictly sexual. The relation between them is already a forbidden one since she’s married but he still wants more. He wants to be that guy to keep her up at night, to be on her mind every damn time that she won’t even have time
3RD PERSON’S POV There’s a little forest above Stella’s pink cunt, nothing to be worried about. If anything he thinks it’s cute. Earlier, he hadn’t got a closer look at it due to the urgency of the moment. He needed to so desperately put out his frustration of seeing you hanging out and happy with some other man. Not just any other man, Zane. But now that he had a chance to, he would take it and admire her beauty down there. Stella has a very fat pussy, to be honest. Luca feels the urge to slap it and watch the skin bounce. But that would render the moment a bit awkward for her and he doesn’t want out. His fingers outstretched, he rubs her clit in slow circular motion, his touch warm against the skin. Her eyes flutter close, mind hazy as pleasure begins its work in consuming her senses. Stella can feel her juices oozing out onto his fingers uncontrollably. Luca knows how to work his way to her arousal. His fingers even know better from their countless encounters. Thank
Luca’s eyes flashes with hurt when Stella pushes him away like he’s some type of a dreaded disease. A bit too hard, the idiot lands on the other side of the room with a loud thud. A wince follows, a curse under her breath as she rubs the ache in her buttocks. Now, he’s worried. Brows creased, his bottom lip wet as he traps it in between his pearly whites. Luca doesn’t mean to scare her this much. He’d heard everything she’s uttered in her sleep. And how he loves the way her pretty pouty lips whisper his name, under the influence of the drug he’s administered effectively, his cock, that is. For that, she might actually like the idea of being sick if it calls for that kind of medication. It’s a bit uncomfortable, the silence too heavy to handle as Stella’s dream replays in her head. What’s worse? He probably now thinks that she’ll be returning his feelings. Cheeks flushed in embarrassment, eyes on the floor, anything to avoid this man, she raises herself from the floor. The
Nothing would’ve prepared Stella for the words that tumble out of Luca’s mouth. A second before, she’d been sat quietly, innocent eyes all over his face, allowing him to care for the small gash on her lip. She meets his eyes, searching, hoping that he’s just messing with her and would take back his words. But he doesn’t, no. Instead, his emotions are far from reach, blocked by that darn wall he’s put up again. She gulps, questioning his sudden change of heart. She swears he’s been obsessed with her since their very first encounter. Is he finally ready to move on from her and find a new plaything? The thought haunts her, twisting her stomach in unpleasant ways. A voice intrudes her thoughts, telling her to just come clean already. After all, what harm could that possibly do? It’ll do a lot. It’ll give him hope, hope that she’ll be his forever. But what if the end comes and she can no longer be by his side? The love in his eyes will disappear, his scowl will return. She dre
STELLA’s POV After that unfortunate incident that happened that morning, Luca has somewhat become even more distant. He talks less, gives me the cold shoulder to prove his point. True to his words, he’s decided to let me off. And the last time I’ve felt close to him is that morning, after he’s dropped me home. I imagined his hands on my thighs like before, gliding upwards with painstakingly slow pace, leaving me on edge. But I’m met with disappointment, silence as his eyes remain on the wide stretch of road ahead. I figured it takes two to tango, tilting my head against the window as he drives on. Thankfully, Jamie had believed my cock and bull story about having to do so much work after the main show, deciding against further questions. If he had seen how clammy my palms were, tongue tied but still willing to spew out my lies, he would think otherwise. At first, it’s just days. Days that turn into weeks, and weeks into months. Okay, maybe I’ve lost count but it’s been
His words leave a dent in my head, momentarily steering me away from any sort of reasoning. My feet wobbly beneath me and my eyes tremble in their sockets. I turn to him, my face a mess of shock and confusion. “What did you say?”, I ask, trembling in place. To say I’m struggling to wrap my head around the words that just left his mouth would be an understatement. He hesitates, his eyes flickering away from mine to Zane’s. Probably not the best place to have this kind of talk. But the look in my eyes press down on him. “I—nothing. Let’s go back inside first”, he mutters. His hand finds the small of the back, rests there firmly but his touch is gentler than that of a mother’s. He gives me a little nudge, ushering me forward. I start walking, couldn’t resist my curiosity about the whole thing though. The questions keep piling one after the other. What did he mean by asking if I’m pregnant? What has that got to do with the shadows that chase me around? I feel like I’m m
My smile falters for a moment, but I quickly recover, trying to maintain a neutral tone to not come off as rude. What the hell is this? How can Jamie and his mother be so similar, yet somehow vastly different from each other. It is almost laughable. “A grandchild, specifically a boy?", I repeat, trying to process the sudden demand. “Victoria, I think there's been a misunderstanding. Jamie and I haven't even discussed having kids yet." I'm trying to keep my cool, for the sake of relations. I can’t be caught in scruffle with my mother-in-law but she makes it hard by playing the bitch. I am fuming inside. Who does she think she is, marching into my home and making demands? Demands we haven’t even thought of for ourselves? It's rich, coming from her, considering she once tried to pay me to leave her son. At the time, it seemed like she had a point. From the outside, it looked like I was a gold digger. And in a way, I guess I am. But my intentions were genuine and pure. I d
I sit nervously in the doctor's office, my hands resting protectively on my stomach as I wait for the doctor to arrive. The silence is thick, thick enough to be cut by a knife, disrupted only by the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. In the aftermath of Sandy's revelation, Jamie had promptly suggested that I visit a doctor to have the pregnancy terminated. I had countered his proposal, pointing out that I wasn't even certain if I was pregnant and that Sandy's claims might be baseless. Jamie had been resolute in his stance: if I was indeed pregnant, he wanted me to consider an abortion. He made it clear that he wanted no part in raising a child. To any other person, his words should leave them feeling shocked, alone, and uncertain about their future. But I know what I did and the fact that I’m to blame. The news had hit Jamie like a ton of bricks, leaving him visibly shaken. Even the thought of accompanying me to the hospital for the check-up seemed to be a dauntin
“Are you sure you two will be alright?”, I echo, glancing back at Sandy and Jamie as they stood by the doorway of our house, a sad smile on my face. Jamie yawns. His shoulders press against his ears, mouth stretching wider as the seconds past, the rest of his face scrunching up. It’s too early, yes, it’s obvious from the still dark sky, little dots staining the black blanket. Sandy, however, is still very much awake. Having helped me pack my bags late into the night through to the crack of dawn. This is it. Didn’t even take me long to pack my bags. I would’ve used it as an excuse to stay longer. The brown envelope, as I opened, held a first class plane ticket, and a hotel key card that I could only guess belongs to the hotel I will stay at in the new country. The driver waits impatiently, he’s been doing that for the past hour. Oh if eyes could kill, I would be six feet beneath the gro
“You!”, he orders, finger pointed at someone in a directionless manner. Heads turn, eyes drifting away from his stout build towards whoever his call is directed at. They murmur their thoughts, no one comes up. It’s absolute chaos, giving how no one’s unable to crack the coordinates. “Oh scratch that!”, he mumbles, flipping the pages of his stack of papers over. He adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge, eyes swiping across the paper in concentration. Then he looks up. “The one named Stella Graham!”, his voice echoes throughout the room. Echoes through me as my heart skips a few beats forward. His gaze sweeps through the crowd, expecting a response or at least a raised hand. Welp! Their eyes are on me. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. Heck, my head feels fuzzy, I could fall on my knees any moment from now. It feels heavy how fast the atmosphere changes, feels suffocating since the attention is on me. “Ah, so it’s you. You’re a pretty one”, he mumbles to himself. The w
That day, when night turns up, I couldn’t get an ounce of sleep, plagued by Jamie’s unexpected marriage proposal. I tossed and turned in the sofa, blanket riding lower and almost falling, leaving me cold and exposed every damn time. Guilt and frustration smack me in all angles, making it hard for me to find any rest. Jamie’s sudden change in character calls for alarm. To say that I’m concerned is an understatement. His words are fucking etched into my mind, echoing for as long as my mind keeps wandering to that part of my thoughts. The genuine look in his eyes just make everything far from being okay. Breathing ragged, beads of sweat scattered on my forehead, I push myself up, sleep wearing away from my senses. I rub my tired face with both palms, casting a sideways glance at the wall clock. The ticking hands crawl slowly over the numbers, taunting me with the late hour. It's past 2 a.m., and exhaustion is creeping in, but my mind refuses to shut down. Sleep remains elu
I give him a quick glance, eyes narrowed and face twisted into one of the most disgusted looks I’ve ever had or ever given to anyone. “Just take me home already”, I mumble, hands crossed over my chest, the gesture a clear sign that I’m impatient and he needs to hurry up if he doesn’t want me flipping things over. Eyes boring holes into him, I dare him to make a comment, to smirk, to do anything that might push me over the edge. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of gloating over the intimate details of my dream, of seeing the vulnerability. The vulnerability that he's somehow managed to expose. It's a petty move, but I'm determined to match his nonchalant energy, which is slowly, insidiously getting under my skin. But he raises a brow, deciding to end the matter in silence before it brews into something else he wouldn’t want to entertain. I bite the inside of my cheeks, struggling to stifle a laugh as my gaze falls on Luca's ridiculous footwear. He's wearing over
My head would’ve almost snap from how hard it whips around, searching for the source of the voice. It’s deep, smooth, but has that just-awoken morning touch to it. At first, it’s not familiar to my senses. It doesn’t even occur to me how foreign my surroundings seem to be. The golden drapes hanging right above the bed, cascading down from either sides of the gigantic bed, might I add. As compared to my same old boring bedroom interior, this one has a few artworks hanging on the auburn walls. There’s a large floor-to-ceiling window to my left, auburn blinds covering the view and little bits of the the early morning light seeping through the little cracks. There’s a burgundy colored door by the window, that I suppose leads to a bathroom. To my right stands the man that was just in my dreams. The man I had done so many wrongful and sinful deeds with in just one fantasy book. It’s unbelievably hard to fathom how real his beauty is. Even as he leans against the doorframe
“I wish we could stay like this forever”, are the words that leave my lips, before I succumbed to the will of slumber. I’ve had it on my mind for so long, it would be wrong to not let him know what I feel inside. But now that it’s out, it suddenly doesn’t feel right anymore. Because I’m human and he’s nothing like any of us. He’s a demon and he’s royalty. Scratch that, he’s the Royalty. But most importantly, I shouldn’t let these little actions of his that say more than they should, become an addiction to me. Because I’m married and just because they shouldn’t. So when my eyes blink open about an hour later, my heart calmed and my emotions resting at the back of my mind, the weight of those words press me down, just as much as the guilt does. Because I know that we can’t be. Even after all the sex, the yearning to reach for each other and live out every moment, it can’t be. And it hurts my heart to be in the middle of all these. And I keep using my marriage as an excuse
3RD PERSON’S POV “Jealous?”, she echoes, the playful glint in her eyes disappearing, replaced with the all too familiar look of hurt and disappointment. But Stella doesn’t seem to care. For all she knows, Kiki is a bitch for trying to manipulate her into believing that made up story about her own blood sister. How could she be so cruel?! “I know you and I haven’t been that close since Sandy’s arrival but isn’t it cheap of you to try and spoil her name for some minutes of attention?!”, Stella spits, pointing an accusing finger at Kiki, who’s too far gone into her thoughts trying to comprehend her situation. “Wait, wait, wait, wait”, she puts her hands up, palms facing her as if physically barricading Stella, to stop her from her talking further. Oh and Stella has a lot more than just bare insults in store for her. “Let me get this straight. You think that I’m the bad guy here?” “Me?”, she asks, lips quivering as tears at either sides of her eyes. Stella thinks it’s fake,
My face crumbles to the floor and if it could, it does so with a thud. Kiki's gaze is fixed on me, her eyes intent and searching as she waits for my reaction. I can sense her anticipation, her expectations of how I'll respond to this bombshell. Will I explode in anger, or will I take the news with a semblance of calm? The fact that her accusations involve my own sister makes my blood boil, and I can feel my emotions simmering just below the surface. A pang of discomfort settles in the pit of my stomach as I process Kiki's words. I'm no saint, I've made my share of mistakes. But the Sandy Kiki is describing is a total stranger to me. My Sandy is the girl who giggles uncontrollably over silly jokes and ridiculous mishaps. The thought of her being involved in something so deceitful and hurtful is jarring, and I struggle to reconcile the two images of my sister. The Sandy I know is the one who's lain helpless in a hospital bed, relying on me to care for her. I recall
If it wasn't for Luca's quick thinking, I would've been caught red-handed. But what's even more pathetic is that without his guidance, I wouldn't have known how to compose myself when Kiki walked in. My body would've betrayed me, screaming out my secrets for all to see. I'm that clueless, that oblivious. I'm a ticking time bomb of stupidity, just waiting for someone to come along and unravel the tangled threads of my life. And who better to do that than my best friend, Kiki? It’s all very unusual how she just clambers into my workplace, truly not dressed for the occasion with her glasses up in her hair to keep the strands out of her face. But I’m sure, there’s a solid reason for why she came. And she’s yet to let me know of that reason. While Luca and I climbed off each other in the nick of time, we’d no time to get our appearances together. Any sane person would raise an eyebrow at the state of my shirt, buttons hanging precariously close to coming undone, and Luca's hai