The mansion felt different today. The heat was brutal—thick, sticky air that made my clothes cling and my skin crawl. Even breathing felt like work.
Elena had left around noon to pick Lily up from school—some end-of-term event with songs and snacks. She'd be gone for a while. Victor had claimed his stomach was off from last night's dinner, so he was staying home "to rest."
Elena fussed over him like always—kissed his forehead, grabbed her keys, warned me not to melt in the heat, and drove off.
The house went dead quiet.
Just me and Victor.
Alone.
No Elena, no Lily, no wandering staff. My mind should have been focused on the threats, the pictures, the creeping feeling that someone was watching us. But all I could think about… was him.
I'd just hung up with Cynthia, my ride-or-die friend, who knew I was deep in drama—but not the full mess. I ranted about my boss firing me for "lack of focus," when really, I'd been thinking about Victor far too much to do my job.
"Girl, good riddance," Cynthia had laughed. "That place was sucking your soul anyway."
I flopped on the bed, wiped out, when a soft knock at my door made me jump. Hesitant. Almost unsure.
I cracked it open an inch.
Of course—it was Victor.
He looked wrecked—hair messy, shirt untucked, eyes worried. I'd been avoiding him these past days—no glances, no touches. Yet the sight of him made me ache, crave him like air. Nights alone were spent imagining his mouth on me, his cock deep inside, hearing him groan my name as he lost control.
It was the only thing keeping me sane.
And now he was right there. Real. Close.
One look, and my brain short-circuited.
"Lys," he said, voice low and tight. He pushed the door wider, grabbed my hands. His palms were damp. "We have to talk. Now."
I stared at him, already wet from just his touch.
He started talking—worried words tumbling out—but I barely heard them. My mind was elsewhere… reliving our wedding night, the kitchen counter, music downstairs, him pounding into me, hips slamming, hands everywhere.
I stopped thinking.
Stopped caring.
I just needed him.
Hot. Fast. Now.
I ripped my tank top over my head, shoved my shorts and panties down. Naked. Skin flushed, nipples hard, pussy slick and aching.
Victor froze mid-sentence. "No, Alyssa," he muttered—but his gaze betrayed him. His cock strained hard against his clothes. His mouth said no, but his body screamed yes.
I dropped to my knees, yanked his sweats down. His cock sprang free—heavy, thick, the tip wet with pre-cum. I wrapped my hand around the base, stroked once, then took him deep.
"We sh… shouldn't, Lys," he groaned, hand tangling in my hair, hips jerking forward. A low moan slipped from him as I moved, gagging slightly, loving every stretch.
"Fuck… oh fuck, baby…"
I pulled off, breathless, needy. "I need you inside me. Now. Please, Victor."
He cursed, hauled me up, and crashed his mouth onto mine. Tongues, teeth, hands everywhere—grabbing, pinching, kneading. I ground against him, desperate.
He shoved me back onto the bed.
Legs spread. Pussy swollen, dripping, clit throbbing.
His shirt was gone. Sweats off. All muscle and heat as he climbed over me, pinning my wrists with one hand.
"This is so fucking wrong," he whispered.
His other hand slid between my thighs, fingers circling my clit. I arched, moaning.
"But you're so wet for me. Always ready."
"Fuck me," I begged. "Hard. Please."
He lined himself up, teasing for a second—then slammed deep.
One hard thrust.
I cried out.
My nails raked down his back as he stretched me, thick, filling, hitting every sweet spot.
"Yes… God, yes…"
He started slow, then faster. The bed creaked, skin slapped. He sucked my nipple, thumb rubbing my clit. I wrapped my legs around him, heels digging into his ass.
"Harder… fuck me like you mean it. I've missed your cock so much."
He growled, picking up speed. Hips snapping, cock pounding into me. Moans and grunts filled the room—wet, heavy, desperate.
"You feel so fucking good, Lys. Tight. Wet. Made for me."
"Don't stop… I'm close…"
I clenched around him, fingers tangled in his hair.
"Cum for me," he rasped.
The orgasm hit hard. My body shook, pussy pulsing around him as I screamed his name.
He chased his own, thrusting harder, faster.
"Fuck… Lys…"
He pulled out, stroking himself before spilling hot cum across my stomach and chest.
Then he collapsed beside me, chest heaving.
But I wasn't done.
Weeks without him—I needed more.
"Shower," I whispered, grabbing his hand.
He glanced at the clock—Elena could be back any second—but his cock was already half-hard again.
"You're going to ruin me," he muttered, following.
Hot water poured over us, steam thick around our bodies. I pressed against him, kissing, soaping, stroking until he was fully hard again.
"I missed you," I murmured against his skin.
He spun me around, bent me over, hands braced on the wall.
"Addicted," he growled, slapping my ass before pushing in from behind—slow, deep, slick.
His fingers found my clit. His hand pulled my hair. His teeth grazed my neck.
"Yes… fuck me harder…"
He pounded into me, the shower echoing with our sounds. I rubbed myself as he moved inside me, the double sensation pushing me closer, faster.
"Cum with me," he ordered.
And I did.
Together.
Shaking. Breathless. Spent.
We dried off quickly, hearts still racing. The afterglow buzzed through me—but reality came crashing back.
Elena could return any second.
Victor kissed my forehead—soft, quick, almost like a goodbye. His fingers trembled as he straightened his shirt.
"I'm slipping out now," he whispered. "Before they get to the landing. Talk to her tonight, Lys. Please. We have to stop this."
I nodded, clutching the sheet to my body. The room was a mess—towel on the floor, panties under the dresser, the air thick with what we'd done.
He eased the door open.
The hallway light cut into the room.
I froze on the bed, heart pounding, trying to breathe.
Then—
Footsteps.
Light. Fast. Excited.
Lily.
"Mommy! I want to show Auntie Lys first!"
Elena followed behind her, calm and steady. Lily's steps turned into a run.
She reached the top of the stairs.
"Papa!"
My stomach dropped.
Victor's voice came out in a whisper. "Lily—hey, sweetheart—"
Too late.
The door burst open.
Lily ran in, a drawing clutched in her hand. "Auntie Lys! Look! It's all of us!"
I yanked the sheet higher, forcing a smile.
Victor stood just outside the door.
Frozen.
His shirt half-buttoned. Hair still damp. Face pale.
Nowhere to go.
Elena appeared behind him.
Slow. Graceful. Heels clicking against the floor.
She didn't speak.
Her eyes moved—from Victor… to the open door… to me on the bed.
Taking everything in.
Victor opened his mouth.
No words came out.
Lily bounced happily, unaware.
"Papa! Come see! I drew you with a big smile!"
Elena's gaze lifted slowly, settling on him.
Cold. Steady.
"Victor," she said softly. "Home early. Stomach better?"
He swallowed. "Elena—I was just—"
"Checking on Alyssa?" she cut in.
Lily tugged his hand. "Papa, come inside!"
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
Elena stepped forward, her eyes flicking to the bed, the sheets, the damp air, the towel on the floor.
Silence stretched tight.
Sharp.
Ready to snap.
Lily frowned. "Mommy? Why are you quiet?"
Elena smoothed her hair and smiled at her.
Then the smile disappeared as she looked back at us.
She stepped closer to the bed.
Victor's voice cracked. "Elena—please. Let me explain—"
She raised her hand.
Not angry.
Just still.
"I can smell it," she said quietly. "Both of you. Right here. In my house."
My breath caught.
Victor looked like he might collapse.
There was nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
Elena's eyes moved again—me on the bed, him in the doorway, Lily still clutching her drawing.
Then, softly—
"Where exactly were you planning to go, Victor?"
Lily tilted her head. "Papa?"
Our eyes met.
Wide.
Terrified.
The door still open. Elena blocking the way. Lily standing there, trusting, smiling.
Everything was about to fall apart.
Elena stepped fully into the room.
Then—
she pulled out a gun.
The door swung inward behind her, closing the space.
Closing us in.
Trapping us.
Lily's voice turned small.
"Papa… why are you scared?"
No one answered.
No one could.
Elena stood there, gun pointed straight at Victor.
And for the first time—
I was truly terrified.