Forbidden Lust: My Father-in-law のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

**What!!!!!** The scream exploded out of Bella like a dam finally bursting after months of pressure. It echoed through the guest house bedroom, sharp and guttural, laced with every ounce of betrayal, heartbreak, and fury she had buried deep inside. Her hands flew to her mouth too late — the sound was already out, hanging in the thick, sex-scented air like an accusation no one could take back. For a frozen moment, everything stopped. Scarlett remained on all fours, her back still arched, skin glistening with sweat. She didn’t scramble for cover right away. Instead, she slowly turned her head, eyes meeting Bella’s with a cool, almost bored defiance. No apology. No tears. Just the faint curl of a smirk as she finally collapsed onto her side, the sheer black lace bodysuit — that expensive, crotchless thing Julian had bought — riding up her thighs. The teardrop necklace swung lazily between her breasts, catching the light like a cruel reminder. She reached for the sheet without hurry,

The silence on the other end of the line stretched so long Bella thought Julian might have dropped the phone. Then came his sharp inhale, followed by a broken, disbelieving laugh that cracked halfway through.“What… what the fuck did you just say?” His voice was hoarse, raw from crying earlier. “Bella, this isn’t funny. You’re with my *father*? You’re lying. You have to be lying. Tell me you’re lying.”Bella sat up slowly in the massive bed, the black leather collar warm and snug around her throat. Jax’s hand rested possessively on her bare thigh, his thumb stroking lazy circles over the dried cum still streaking her skin. She looked down at the man beside her — this powerful, salt-and-pepper-haired force who had ruined her so beautifully — and felt something settle deep in her chest. Peace. Dark, filthy, perfect peace.“I’m not lying, Julian,” she said quietly, her voice steady even as fresh tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness anymore. From release. “I’m done

The mansion was silent except for the distant lap of lake water against the private dock. Lila tossed and turned in her king-sized bed, the silk sheets twisted around her bare thighs. It was well past midnight, and sleep was impossible. Every filthy word Victor had growled earlier replayed in her mind on a loop—his rough grip on her jaw, the massive bulge of his cock pressing against her, the way he’d teased her soaked panties without giving her what she craved.Her hand slipped between her legs for the third time that night, fingers circling her swollen clit through the thin lace of her panties. She was drenched, aching, but it wasn’t enough. Not after feeling *him*. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, imagining his thick fingers replacing hers, his gravelly voice calling her a desperate little slut.A soft knock on her bedroom door made her freeze.“Lila.” Victor’s deep voice, low and commanding, cut through the darkness. “You awake?”Her heart slammed against her ribs. She sat up qui

Lila’s legs were still shaky as she slipped back into the house through the side entrance, Victor’s cum still trickling down the inside of her thigh. She’d barely fixed her bikini before Sophia rounded the corner, all fake smiles and curious eyes. The stepsister had asked something innocent about swimming, but Lila could barely form words. All she could feel was the sticky mess between her legs and the deep, satisfied ache where Victor had wrecked her.She needed a shower. Desperately.But as she padded down the hallway toward the grand staircase, Elena stepped out from the kitchen alcove like a ghost. The 28-year-old housekeeper was beautiful in a quiet, dangerous way — dark hair pulled into a sleek bun, sharp cheekbones, and eyes that had clearly seen too much in this house.“Miss Lila,” Elena said softly, voice smooth as velvet. She was holding a stack of fresh towels but didn’t move to pass. “You should be more careful near the pool. The walls carry sound… and certain things leave

The whiskey poured freely that night, but the real intoxication was the tension crackling in the air like electricity before a storm. Damien Cross had arrived like he owned the damn place, stepping out of his sleek black car in a tailored suit that screamed money and menace. Victor’s business partner was thirty-five, built lean and sharp with a predator’s smile and eyes that missed nothing. He claimed it was about urgent contracts from Tokyo, but the second he walked into the living room and saw Lila, his gaze turned hungry.They settled in with drinks — Victor in the big leather armchair like a king on his throne, Lila curled on the couch, and Damien choosing the spot right beside her. Too close. His knee brushed hers deliberately as he leaned forward to pour her another glass, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her thigh where her short black dress had ridden up.“Damn, Lila,” Damien murmured, voice low and smooth, letting it linger. “Last time I saw you, you were still in college