Semua Bab Midnight Cravings: A Forbidden collection : Bab 261 - Bab 270

The penthouse kitchen was a chef’s dream — marble counters, top-of-the-line appliances, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline.I stood at the island in a tiny cropped tank top and the shortest denim shorts I owned, my long hair loose and my feet bare. At 20 years old, I was supposed to be learning how to cook “basic gourmet meals” because my father thought I was too spoiled and helpless in the kitchen.Instead, I was here to play.The private chef my father had hired arrived exactly on time.Marcus Vale.He was 37, tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders, veined forearms, and the kind of quiet, commanding presence that made the air feel thicker the moment he walked in. Dark hair, sharp jaw, and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see right through my bratty façade.“Miss Lila,” he said, voice deep and smooth as he set down his knife roll and ingredients. “I’m Chef Marcus. Your father wants you to learn proper technique. We’ll start with a simple p

The third private cooking lesson was scheduled for 9:30 PM — a “special dessert-focused session” I had requested.I showed up in a tiny silk slip dress that barely reached mid-thigh, the thin straps barely holding up my breasts. No bra. No panties. My hair was loose and slightly messy, as if I had just stepped out of the shower.Marcus was already in the kitchen, prepping ingredients for chocolate fondant and fresh berry coulis. The lights were dimmed low, and the scent of melting chocolate filled the air.The moment I stepped inside and closed the door, his grey eyes darkened with barely restrained hunger.“Miss Lila,” he said, voice low. “You’re testing every ounce of my professionalism tonight.”I smiled and hopped onto the marble island, letting my dress ride up high enough to show I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.“Maybe I don’t want you to be professional tonight, Chef,” I purred, dipping my finger into the bowl of melted chocolate and slowly licking it off while holding his

The mansion was quiet after midnight.My parents had gone to bed hours ago, and the staff had retired to their quarters. I couldn’t sleep.I slipped out of my room wearing only a tiny black silk lingerie set — a sheer babydoll top that barely covered my breasts and matching panties that left little to the imagination.I knew Jax was on night shift, patrolling the house.I found him in the dimly lit hallway near the grand staircase, standing guard like the disciplined ex-special forces soldier he was.The moment he saw me, his grey eyes darkened with a mix of shock and raw hunger.“Miss Voss,” he said, voice low and strained. “You should be in bed.”I walked closer, the silk whispering against my skin, and stopped just inches away from him.“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “Maybe my bodyguard can help me relax.”His jaw clenched. “This is highly inappropriate. I’m on duty.”I stepped even closer, pressing my body lightly against his.“Then maybe yo

The credible threat came suddenly.A rival business associate had made specific threats against my father’s family. My father immediately ordered Jax to take me to a remote safe house for the weekend — a luxurious, secluded cabin deep in the mountains with no staff, no neighbors, and no interruptions.Just the two of us.The moment we stepped inside the cabin and the heavy security door locked behind us, the air changed.Jax dropped the bags, turned to me, and the professional bodyguard mask finally shattered.“No more teasing,” he growled, stalking toward me. “No more games. This weekend, you’re not the heiress I’m protecting. You’re mine. And I’m going to fuck you properly until that spoiled little pussy only knows your bodyguard’s cock.”He pulled me into a rough, possessive kiss, his hands already sliding under my dress and yanking it over my head.I stood naked in the middle of the cabin living room, the large stone fireplace casting warm light across my skin.Marcus stripped qu

The second lesson was scheduled for the following evening.I spent the entire day choosing my outfit with care — a shorter, more revealing black practice dress that hugged my curves and flared out just enough to tease when I moved. The neckline dipped low enough to show the swell of my breasts, and the hem barely reached mid-thigh.When I walked into the ballroom, Marcus was already there, warming up in the center of the floor.He wore a fitted black shirt and trousers that accentuated his athletic build. The moment his eyes landed on me, his jaw tightened.“Miss Lila,” he said, voice controlled but with a rough edge. “You’re pushing the boundaries of appropriate attire again.”I smiled innocently and did a slow spin, letting the dress flare up just enough to flash the lace edge of my panties.“I thought dancers were supposed to wear something that allows freedom of movement, Instructor,” I replied sweetly. “Does this not give you enough… access?”His grey eyes darkened.“On the floo