บททั้งหมดของ EDEN: Steamy Forbidden Pleasures : บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

~Sultana's POV~ The snowflakes danced like forbidden whispers against the tinted windows of the cab as it pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of Stefan Salvatore's estate. My heart pounded harder than the bass in my favorite Afrobeats track, a mix of excitement and that familiar thrill of the chase. It was Christmas Eve, and while my girlfriends were posting stories of their lavish hauls... designer bags from Gucci, the latest iPhone 15, I was here, at the doorstep of my sugar daddy's sprawling mansion, ready to claim my slice of the holiday pie. Stefan had been away for months, jet-setting through Europe on business, but he'd texted me last night: ‘Come over, baby girl. Santa's got surprises.’ I adjusted my red mini-dress, the one that hugged my curves like a second skin, and stepped out into the crisp air, my heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway. Little did I know, this Christmas was about to unwrap something way filthier than any gift under the tree.The butler, some

Nathan's words hung in the air like a promise of more depravity, his cock twitching deep inside my ass as he unloaded, hot spurts coating my walls. I clenched around him, milking every drop, my own release teetering on the brink, shattered by Stefan's relentless pounding into my pussy from below. The fullness was obscene... two thick cocks stretching me to my limits, their bodies sandwiching mine in a sweaty, grunting cage of lust. 'Fuck, yes, fill her up,' Stefan snarled, his hips snapping up harder, balls slapping against my skin with wet smacks. His hands gripped my hips like vices, bruising the flesh, pulling me down onto him as Nathan's final thrusts ground against him through the thin barrier separating their cocks.I cried out, the dual sensations ripping another orgasm from me, my vision blurring with stars. 'Oh God, I'm cumming again... shit, don't stop!' Waves of pleasure crashed over me, my pussy squirting messily around Stefan's dick, soaking his thighs. They laughed,

He froze for a heartbeat, then kissed back like he'd been starving for it. Hard, demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim mine. Hands roamed... mine fisting his shirt, his cupping my ass, squeezing through the fabric. The world narrowed to his taste (whiskey and mint), the scrape of his stubble, the way he groaned into my mouth. We broke apart gasping, foreheads pressed together.'Fuck,' he breathed. 'We shouldn't...''Yes, we should,' I cut him off, nipping his lower lip. The recklessness surged, drowning out the voice in my head screaming 'this is your ex's brother.' Tonight, I didn't care. I wanted to feel alive, wanted him to erase Jake's ghost with something dirty and real.Ryan's eyes blazed, decision made. He grabbed my hand, towing me through the crowd toward the restrooms at the back of the hall. The men's room, empty, thank God, the door clicking shut behind us. He locked it, spinning me against the sink, mouth devouring mine again.'Been wanting to do this since I saw y

The next morning, sunlight filtered through my curtains, pulling me from a dream where Ryan's hands were everywhere, gripping, spanking, filling. My body woke aching, pussy tender but insistent, a dull throb that had me reaching for my phone. His message from last night glowed: ‘Address? And wear something easy to rip off.’ I laughed, typing back: ‘Downtown loft, 5th and Elm. Door's unlocked at noon. Bring that cock.’ Send. Heart racing already.I showered, the hot water soothing bruises on my hips, faint red marks from his smacks blooming on my ass. Lathering up, I couldn't resist, fingers slipping between folds, replaying the bathroom frenzy. How he'd eaten me out, tongue fucking the cum back in; the way he'd bent me over the toilet, pounding until I saw stars. Moaning softly, I came quick, but it was a tease, not the main event.Dressed in a thin tank and boy shorts, easy access, as ordered... I paced my open-plan apartment, the urban hum of traffic below a distant buzz. Modern lo

The next week blurred into a haze of stolen glances and loaded texts. Joaquin was back for a 'quick stopover' three days of board meetings and late nights, barely acknowledging me beyond a peck on the cheek. I played the dutiful wife, cooking dinners he wolfed down without tasting, but my mind was on Kevin, replaying the office desk, the way he'd claimed me.On the second night, Joaquin crashed early, jet-lagged and snoring by ten. I slipped into the guest bathroom, our bedroom felt too tainted now, and texted Kevin: ‘Hubby's out cold. Meet at the Balcony?’ Our penthouse overlooked the city, private enough for risk.His reply buzzed instant: ‘On my way. Wear nothing.’Anticipation thrummed as I stripped, the cool night air pebbling my skin when I stepped onto the balcony. The city lights twinkled below, a sea of anonymity. Kevin arrived twenty minutes later, slipping in through the service entrance like a shadow, his eyes devouring me as he approached.'Bare and beautiful,' he whisper