Chapter 1: Midnight Cravings
I’ve been living with my sister, Lila, and her new husband, Ethan, for three months now. Their apartment is a cozy little love nest, and I’m just the awkward third wheel crashing on their couch. Lila’s always been the kind of woman who turns heads—curves that could stop traffic, a sharp tongue that could cut glass, and eyes that dare you to look away. Ethan’s no slouch either, all broad shoulders and smoldering smirks. They’re perfect together. Too perfect. And every damn night, I’m reminded of just how perfect they are.
The walls in this place are paper-thin, and their bedroom is right next to the living room where I sleep. I hear everything—the moans, the gasps, the rhythmic thumping of their headboard against the wall. It’s torture. Pure, unadulterated torture. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, my body betraying me as heat pools between my thighs. I’m not supposed to feel this way about my sister’s husband, but fuck, I’m only human.
Tonight, though, something’s different. I’m restless, tossing on the lumpy couch, when I hear their door creak open. Ethan steps out, shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The dim light from the hallway catches the sheen of sweat on his chest, and I can’t help but stare. He notices me, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch.
'Can’t sleep, huh?' he drawls, leaning against the doorway, his voice low and rough like he’s just rolled out of bed after a good, hard fuck.
I sit up, pulling the blanket over my chest even though I’m fully clothed. 'Not with the goddamn symphony you two are conducting in there,' I snap, but there’s no real venom in my tone. Just frustration. And maybe a little curiosity.
He smirks, crossing his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing. 'Sorry about that. Lila’s… demanding. Keeps me on my toes.'
I roll my eyes, but my pulse is racing. 'Yeah, well, some of us are trying to live vicariously through silence, Ethan. Ever heard of it?'
He chuckles, stepping closer, the air between us crackling with something dangerous. 'You don’t strike me as the silent type, Mara. Bet you’ve got a few demands of your own.'
My mouth goes dry, but I’m not about to let him see me squirm. I stand, letting the blanket fall, my tank top and shorts doing little to hide the flush creeping up my skin. 'Careful, Ethan. You’re playing with fire, and I’m not the kind of girl who gets burned.'
His gaze drops, raking over me like a predator sizing up prey, but I’m no damsel. I step closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, to smell the faint musk of sex still clinging to his skin. 'You think you can handle me?' I challenge, my voice a low purr, daring him to cross the line.
His jaw tightens, and I see the hunger in his eyes, the way his breath quickens. 'Mara, you have no idea what I’m capable of,' he growls, his hand twitching like he’s fighting the urge to grab me.
My core clenches, a rush of wet heat making me ache. I’m so fucking horny I can barely think straight, but I’m not backing down. 'Then show me,' I whisper, my lips curling into a wicked smile as I tilt my head, inviting him to make the next move.
He steps forward, closing the distance, his hard body inches from mine. I can feel the tension, the unspoken promise of something explosive. His hand hovers near my hip, and I’m already imagining how it’d feel to have him grip my ass, to feel his cock pressing against me, hot and ready. My pussy throbs at the thought, and I know I’m dripping, my body screaming for release. We’re both panting now, the air thick with lust, and I know—one wrong move, and we’re going to combust.
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