He propelled his upper body forward, pulling mine closer at the same time, so our lips brushed against eachother, his breath warm, teasing, as another wave of anticipation washed over my already trembling body.He changed his grip, more this time—his arms strong, uncompromising—his body pushed hard against mine, the heat of his naked flesh inflaming me.And then—oh, my God fuckk—he was inside me. Slowly, slowlyA searing gasp tore from my lips as the broad head of his cock stretched me open, inch by agonizing inch. My nails dug into his shoulders, my head falling back as he pressed in deeper, filling me so completely it was almost too much.Victor groaned, his forehead falling to mine, his breaths deep, ragged."Fuck, Lily…" His voice was rough, strained, like he was trying very hard to hold himself together, and force the words out.My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in, insisting he go deeper."Ohh my god... deeper," I moaned, my mouth brushing against his. "I want all
Lily's POVThe air was thick with heat, the stench of sex lingering between us. My skin still tingled from his hands, from the way he had devoured me so completely on that couch. But as I leaned back against his chest, my body against his, my need for him didn't fade—it grew.Victor was beside me, his arm across my waist, his fingers tracing up and down my back in a slow, lazy rhythm. His breathing was deep and controlled, but I could feel it—the tension coiling inside him, even with the way his body had released after everything we'd done.I leaned my head back slightly, looking at him in the shadows. His face was lifted up to the ceiling, his jaw clean-cut, his lips parted ever so slightly. God, he was beautiful. And he was mine—at least for tonight.I grinned slowly as I stepped forward, allowing my hands to glide over his chest, tracing the bulging muscles beneath my fingertips. His skin felt so hot, his body so strong, and I wanted him to shatter apart once more."Lily…" His tone
(Lily's POV)The first thing I was conscious of was the heat when I woke up. The warmth of his body pressing against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. His arm was a weight, spread across my waist, holding me down, his breath slow and deep against my neck. His smell—woody, male, with the musk of last night—surrounded me, soaking into my skin.I was aware of a dull ache spreading through me, a reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me, possessed me, made his way through me in a way that still did not feel possible. My thighs clenched together around the dull soreness between them, at the raw, tender proof of every kiss, every touch, every sound he had drawn from me. I shivered, just a little, and his arm tightened, pulling me closer.There was a low rumble in his chest, a sleepy noise that sent a shiver of heat down my spine. His fingers moved against my belly, skin against skin, sleepy and possessive even while he's asleep. I didn't stir, letting my fin
(Lily's POV) It's my first day at this prestigious university, and honestly i'm eager to know what this school has for me. On the beautiful sunny Monday morning, I walked into the lecture hall. It was cold, almost clinical, but I wasn't bothered in any way. I’d always preferred sitting in the front row, close enough to catch every word the professor said and every detail of their expression. Today, however, the front row wasn’t just a strategic choice for academic success. Something inside me had been urging me forward since the moment I arrived, though I didn’t fully understand why. Maybe it's because I'm new here, but in contrast to my regular position, I actually wanted to sit anywhere else except the front row, but there is a pull taking me to my beloved front row. When he walked in, everything seemed to make more sense. Professor Victor Graham. The name had been printed neatly on the syllabus I’d scanned over the weekend, but it hadn’t prepared me for this. He wasn’t the reg
The city buzzed around me as I walked home, but it felt like I was moving in a haze. Cars honked, distant voices called out, and the occasional bark of a dog echoed down the street; you know how it is, but none of it registered. My body was still hummed with an energy I couldn’t shake, every step a reminder of the tension coiling deep inside me.Professor Victor Graham. His name alone sent a shiver through me.I climbed the stairs to my apartment, my bag slung over my shoulder and my mind spinning. The air in the hallway was thick and stale, but when I opened my door and stepped inside, it felt no different. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes; I wasn't even the one contemplating my movement.The silence of the apartment only amplified the storm inside me.I leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. My skin was still flushed, heat radiating from my cheeks down to the hollow of my throat. My blouse clung to me in all the wr
The strange thing that happened the other time had been sitting in the back of my mind since that moment. I was trying my best to always not think about it, but I couldn’t let it go, and it made me feel the exact same way every time.The syllabus had clearly stated Professor Graham’s office hours. Every lecture was open to all students taking his course, no appointment necessary. But even at that, he was a very respected figure and considered a very strict, no-nonsense person by other students, so he was one of the least-visited professors in the school. But I had to, and this wasn’t even about class—it was for myself.I stood in front of my mirror, brushing my hair for what felt like the hundredth time. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears. The thin sweater I wore hugged my curves just enough without being too obvious. My jeans were fitted but not tight. Casual. Harmless.Except I didn’t feel harmless.I felt like I was walking straight into the lion’s den, and
(Victor's POV)The mornings felt colder lately, though it wasn’t the weather. The chill that had settled in my life had little to do with the seasons and everything to do with Emily.Our marriage had always been built on shared goals, mutual ambition, and the sense that we were moving forward together. But somewhere along the way, we moved from that to not having a real conversation in months.And the intimacy? That had disappeared when she left for the capital. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and it's been six months. That was how long it had been since we’d been together, in every sense of the word.I could still remember the last time. The last time we shared as a couple. The mechanical rhythm, the absence of passion, the way she had rolled over and gone straight to sleep afterward. Even before that? It was seventeen weeks. I know she's not to be fully blamed for it. As a career-inclined person, the hustle and bustle of her job is completely overwhelming.When she’d announce
(Lily's POV) The rain started pouring suddenly, like the cloud couldn't hold it anymore; it didn't even leave a sign that it was going to happen. The water was dropping so heavily, and I stood drenched in the lobby, rainwater pooling around my feet as the storm outside seemed to seep into the very space around me, the sound of raindrops pounding against the roof and walls a deafening accompaniment to my own ragged breathing. The water around my feet was so cold that I was starting to shiver, and my legs, exposed to the cold rainwater, made my body give a cold shock response, which started to make me have goosebumps, and the heavier the rain gets, the colder its water is. The day was supposed to be quite a good day. But then there was him who is the actual determiner of it. In class today, he barely looked at me; his eyes kept scanning the whole room like i wasn't even there. "Lily, why does that even bother you?" I asked myself. His job is primarily to lecture us on philosop
(Lily's POV)The first thing I was conscious of was the heat when I woke up. The warmth of his body pressing against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. His arm was a weight, spread across my waist, holding me down, his breath slow and deep against my neck. His smell—woody, male, with the musk of last night—surrounded me, soaking into my skin.I was aware of a dull ache spreading through me, a reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me, possessed me, made his way through me in a way that still did not feel possible. My thighs clenched together around the dull soreness between them, at the raw, tender proof of every kiss, every touch, every sound he had drawn from me. I shivered, just a little, and his arm tightened, pulling me closer.There was a low rumble in his chest, a sleepy noise that sent a shiver of heat down my spine. His fingers moved against my belly, skin against skin, sleepy and possessive even while he's asleep. I didn't stir, letting my fin
Lily's POVThe air was thick with heat, the stench of sex lingering between us. My skin still tingled from his hands, from the way he had devoured me so completely on that couch. But as I leaned back against his chest, my body against his, my need for him didn't fade—it grew.Victor was beside me, his arm across my waist, his fingers tracing up and down my back in a slow, lazy rhythm. His breathing was deep and controlled, but I could feel it—the tension coiling inside him, even with the way his body had released after everything we'd done.I leaned my head back slightly, looking at him in the shadows. His face was lifted up to the ceiling, his jaw clean-cut, his lips parted ever so slightly. God, he was beautiful. And he was mine—at least for tonight.I grinned slowly as I stepped forward, allowing my hands to glide over his chest, tracing the bulging muscles beneath my fingertips. His skin felt so hot, his body so strong, and I wanted him to shatter apart once more."Lily…" His tone
He propelled his upper body forward, pulling mine closer at the same time, so our lips brushed against eachother, his breath warm, teasing, as another wave of anticipation washed over my already trembling body.He changed his grip, more this time—his arms strong, uncompromising—his body pushed hard against mine, the heat of his naked flesh inflaming me.And then—oh, my God fuckk—he was inside me. Slowly, slowlyA searing gasp tore from my lips as the broad head of his cock stretched me open, inch by agonizing inch. My nails dug into his shoulders, my head falling back as he pressed in deeper, filling me so completely it was almost too much.Victor groaned, his forehead falling to mine, his breaths deep, ragged."Fuck, Lily…" His voice was rough, strained, like he was trying very hard to hold himself together, and force the words out.My legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in, insisting he go deeper."Ohh my god... deeper," I moaned, my mouth brushing against his. "I want all
His tongue caressed against the soaked fabric of my panties, slow, seductive, a searing flash of pleasure shot straight into the core of my existence.I gasped, my legs trembling as I tried to stay still, but it was useless. The movement of his mouth—slow, deliberate, savoring—had me wriggling beneath him."Victor—" My voice was rough, needy, barely a whisper.He groaned softly, his fingers biting into my thighs."See how you are," he whispered, his lips tracing the wet lace. "Already soo wet for me."A whimper escaped me.He pressed his lips to me again, this time harder, his tongue pushing against the thin fabric, rubbing slowly, brutally in circles around where I hurt worst.My hips lifted of their own accord, wanting more friction, more pressure—more of him.He pulled back an inch, his dark eyes fixed on mine."You want more?" His voice was low, gravelly, thick with need.I nodded frantically, my chest heaving and falling with shallow, desperate breaths.Victor smiled.Then, in sl
(Lily's POV)His mouth kissed mine, slow and gentle, the warmth of his breath spreading over my skin. The kiss was passionate, perfect, not rushed—like he was savoring each instant, every angle of my lips against his. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him tight, closer, craving more.And then his tongue brushed against mine, teasing, tempting me to open. I did. And the moment I did, the kiss grew hotter, deeper. His hand cradled my jaw, tilting my face just the way he needed as his tongue slid in, claiming, searching.A shiver went down my spine. My fingers tingled on his chest, wanting to touch more of him. I inched slowly, following my hand down his body, feeling the rigid muscles beneath his shirt. My palm rested against his abs, warmth seeping through the fabric, and I couldn't resist.I tugged on his shirt, yanking it up, needing the touch of his skin against mine. He hummed low on my lips, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I ran my hands over his
(Lily's POV)Victor's thumb tracing my pulse, a slow, deliberate stroke that sent a shiver coursing down my spine, the "I do" a warm ember in the dense hush of his apartment. The door shut behind us, sealing the world out, and the air hummed, heavy with his presence—his eyes, dark and molten, mapping over me, the red crop top hugging my curves, the jeans low on my hips. His fingers lay on the back of my neck, a gentle hold tilting my head back, and I gazed up at him, choking in the heat there—hunger, yes, but something else, a tenderness that wrapped around my heart and held on.“You wore red,” he said again like he didn't just say it earlier, voice low, a velvet thread weaving through me. His hand slid up, cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip, parting it just enough to make me tremble.My breath snagged, a little catch, and he smiled—slow, annihilating, the kind that illuminated me. "I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his warm breath on my cheek, his admiss
(Lily's POV)Monday evening hung over me like a dark blanket, the clock on my desk ticking, it's just 7:00 p.m. I sat on my bed, crossed my legs, the room dark except for the phone lighting up in my lap.Victor's message this morning flashed in my brain again— "My place tonight, 8. Don't be late." My flesh crawled, a persistent buzzing coiled in my chest. The weekend stretched out behind me, a jumbled knot of sleep and evasion, each passing minute drawing me back to him, where I want to be.Friday night replayed him my head, every detail—his bed, his hands, how he'd wrecked me to the bone, left me raw, stretched out on his sheets. He'd brought me school afterwards, the blue dress, nice and beautiful, his fingernail scratches burning my back, and I'd stumbled in, too wrecked to think. My phone buzzed as I fell onto the pillow—Victor, probably—but exhaustion hit me before I could see.Saturday MorningI was conscious of the pain the moment I woke up. A low, slow throb in my body, the ki
(Emily's POV)The alarm woke me up to the darkness in my room at 5:45 a.m., a sudden shriek that yanked me from bed, sheets knotted around my ankles like a net, not even neatly made before I slept last night. My fingers flew across the nightstand, before I finally reached for my phone, silencing the alarm. Tired, I stood up to turn the my bulb on, it's Monday.My stomach growled—a low, slow, insistent rumble that hit before I could even successfully walk out of the room. Last night’s Coca-Cola sloshed in my gut, it was even the only thing in my stomach after hours spent last night—driving slowly, aimlessly and parking for fresh air at irregular intervals. The city’s neon lights still flickered behind my eyes, a restless hum that refused to fade. No dinner. No time. Just happy I had last night the way I wanted to.Out of my room, the apartment is still except for the gentle hum of the fridge. Cold air stung my bare legs as I shuffled into the kitchen, blinking against the dark in it. T
Emily's POVThe garage of the hospital was only viewable from my rearview as I drove away slowly, Sophia's sedan just in front of mine, as we have to drive the little way to the main road, immediately out the hospital's gate.She whined her window down, gave a little beautiful smile, while waving her hand before hand before drifting into the road. The time is just a little past 5:00 p.m. on a calm Sunday evening. The city was not so lively, just a dull, blur atmosphere, streetlights buzzing to life. Tires screeched on wet pavement as cars kept moving, the weekend's restless thrum still resonating in my chest.My thoughts went back to their usual state, Three months, and Mark J. Kennedy is not where to be found, no calls, his doesn't even go through either, nobody that I know him with that I can reach—all the thoughts, just making my temper unstable. But Sophia's energy stuck with me, her "Next Saturday's wild" hanging in on that morning, Johnson's name is something I'm going to hear