Risky Flames
950 Words
The next forty-eight hours became a dangerous game of secrets and seduction.
I tried to throw myself into wedding planning with Leo Lugard. We tasted cakes, approved invitations, and laughed about honeymoon destinations in Santorini. Leo was perfect — attentive, excited, and so in love it hurt. Every time he called me “my future wife,” guilt twisted like a knife in my chest.
But John Larry refused to be ignored.
His texts were constant, filthy, and irresistible. He sent photos of his hard c**k with captions like “This belongs inside Lucy Morgan again.” He called me during lunch breaks, voice low and commanding, describing exactly what he wanted to do to me. By the second day, I was a soaked, aching mess.
On Thursday afternoon, John pushed the limit.
John Larry: My office. Top floor. Private bathroom. Come now or I’ll come find you myself.
My pulse raced. Leo was in back-to-back meetings across town. I had an hour. Against every ounce of better judgment, I drove to John’s sleek downtown office building, heart hammering with fear and excitement.
He met me in the elevator, eyes dark with hunger. The second the doors closed, he pushed me against the wall and kissed me ravenously, hand sliding under my skirt to find me bare and dripping.
“No panties again? Such a naughty fiancée,” he growled, slipping two fingers inside me. “Leo has no idea what a slut you become for me.”
I moaned, riding his hand shamelessly as the elevator climbed. We barely made it into his private executive bathroom before he locked the door and bent me over the marble sink.
“Look at yourself,” he ordered, yanking my dress up to my waist.
In the mirror, I watched as John Larry — my irresistible ex — freed his thick c**k and slammed into me in one powerful thrust. The sight of him f*cking me from behind, my breasts bouncing with every deep stroke, was incredibly erotic. I gripped the sink, moaning loudly as he pounded me.
“F**k, John 🥵 harder!” I begged.
He obliged, one hand gripping my hip, the other reaching around to rub my swollen c**t. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the luxurious bathroom. He spanked my ass sharply, making me yelp with pleasure.
“Quiet, baby,” he warned with a wicked grin. “Wouldn’t want your fiancé’s colleagues hearing how good I f*ck you.”
The risk made everything hotter. I came hard, biting my arm to muffle my scream as my p***y clenched around him. John followed soon after, groaning my name as he emptied into the condom, hips jerking against me.
But he still wasn’t satisfied.
He spun me around, dropped to his knees, and licked me clean — tongue delving deep... savoring our combined mess until I came again on his face, legs shaking.
We barely had time to straighten up before he kissed me deeply, eyes intense with emotion.
“I love you, Lucy Morgan,” he said again, voice rough. “Not just the s*x. I miss waking up next to you. I miss fighting with you and making up for hours in bed. Don’t marry him. Choose the fire. Choose us.”
His words lingered long after I left his office, legs weak and panties ruined. That evening, Leo surprised me with a candlelit dinner at home. He had cooked my favorite meal and looked at me with such pure adoration that I nearly broke down crying at the table.
“You’ve seemed distant lately,” he said softly, taking my hand. “Is everything okay? Pre-wedding jitters?”
I forced a smile, still feeling John’s c*m drying on my thighs under the dress. “Just stressed, baby. I love you, Leo.”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me tenderly. When we made love later that night, I felt every gentle thrust like a painful 😣 reminder of my betrayal. Leo worshipped my body with sweet kisses and whispered promises. I came... but I saw John’s face the entire time.
The contrast was devastating. Leo’s love 😘 felt warm and safe. John’s passion felt like wildfire — consuming, addictive, and impossible to control.
At 2 a.m., while Leo slept peacefully beside me, I couldn’t resist. I crept to the bathroom and video-called John.
He answered immediately, already stroking his hard c**k.
“Show me,” he demanded.
I lifted my nightdress and spread my legs, showing him my p***y. Still slightly swollen from both men in one day. John groaned, stroking faster.
“Finger yourself for me, Lucy. Imagine it’s my cock.”
I did. Moaning quietly, I f*cked myself with two fingers while watching him jerk off. The sight of John Larry pleasuring himself to me pushed me over the edge. I came hard, biting my lip to stay silent as my body shook.
John followed, spilling over his hand with a low growl. “Next time, I’m f*cking you raw. I want to fill you up and watch my c*m drip out of you while you go home to him.”
His dirty words sent another aftershock through me.
I ended the call, flushed and ashamed, but already craving more.
John Larry wasn’t just seducing my body anymore. He was waging war on my heart .. And he was winning.
As I crawled back into bed beside my sleeping fiance, one terrifying truth became clearer than ever:
I was falling deeper into dangerous territory. One “last night” had turned into an obsession, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep lying to Leo Lugard… or to myself.
- Writer
