A stranger’s bed

Fear

The weekend came quickly, and with it came Augustine’s texts, each one more daring than the last.

What are you wearing right now?

I want you in my bed again.

I can’t get the taste of you out of my mouth.

Lordy read them over and over, her heart pounding, her body betraying her resolve. Every time she promised herself she’d stop, that she’d draw a line, he would break her down with one message, one call, one memory of how his body had felt buried deep inside hers.

By Friday evening, she was at his door again.

He pulled her inside before she could even greet him, his mouth crashing against hers with a hunger that stole her breath. His hands roamed her body like he already owned it.

“God, I missed you,” he groaned against her lips. “I’ve been starving.”

Their clothes fell away piece by piece as he guided her into the kitchen. He bent her over the counter, spreading her legs wide, his fingers sliding easily into her wetness.

“Already ready for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“Augustine…” she moaned, gripping the edge of the counter.

He didn’t wait. He pulled out a condom, slid it on in seconds, and pressed into her from behind with one long, hard stroke that made her cry out. His thrusts were deep, deliberate, each one angled to make her knees buckle.

“Look at you,” he growled, pulling her hair to force her gaze forward into the dark window where their reflection stared back. “You’re mine right now. Say it.”

Her body trembled. “I’m yours.”

The words shocked her, but the truth of them burned through her chest.

He f****d her until her moans filled the kitchen, until her thighs shook and her breath came in gasps. When he finally pulled out, lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bathroom and pressed her against the cool tiles of the shower.

“Round two,” he whispered against her neck, sliding back inside as the water poured over their bodies.

By the time he finally collapsed beside her in bed, both of them drenched in sweat and water, she felt like every part of her had been consumed by him.

“Stay the night,” he murmured, brushing damp hair from her face.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Jeffery will—”

“Forget him,” Augustine cut her off. His eyes locked with hers, fierce and raw. “You don’t want him. You want me.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but when his lips claimed hers again, every defense shattered.

The days turned into weeks, their meetings more frequent, their encounters more reckless. They had s*x in the kitchen, on his study table, in the shower, against the wall, anywhere the hunger struck.

Each time was wilder, more desperate, as if they were both running from something they couldn’t name.

But amid the passion, questions crept in.

One evening, lying tangled in his sheets, Lordy dared to ask the thing she had avoided for weeks.

“Do you have someone else?” Her voice was soft, but it cut through the room like glass.

For a moment, Augustine went still. His hand, which had been lazily tracing circles on her thigh, froze.

His silence was answer enough.

Lordy sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. “You do, don’t you?”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Yes.”

The word stabbed her.

“Yes, I have a girlfriend. But it’s not what you think. It’s not real anymore. I don’t feel with her what I feel with you.”

Lordy’s throat closed. She wanted to scream, to curse him, but the tears that filled her eyes betrayed her instead.

“You lied to me,” she choked. “You made me believe I was the only one.”

“I never meant to,” he said quickly, reaching for her. “I thought it would be one time. I didn’t know you’d get under my skin like this. I didn’t know I’d fall for you.”

She shook her head, pushing him away. “You’re a liar, Augustine. A player. How many women do you say this to?”

His face twisted in pain. “Don’t say that. Don’t hurt me like that. I mean it—I want you. I dream about you. I crave you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but his lips crashed against hers, swallowing her protest. His hands slid down her body, pulling the sheet away, his mouth trailing fire down her chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses, his fingers finding her wetness with practiced ease. “I’ll prove it to you. Let me prove it.”

Lordy was torn between fury and need, but her body betrayed her. Her moans filled the room as he spread her legs wide, sliding into her raw this time, his thrusts desperate and rough.

“I want to feel all of you,” he groaned, one hand on her throat as he drove deeper. “No barriers between us. Just you and me.”

Her nails dug into his back, her tears mixing with her cries of pleasure as he f****d her harder, faster, whispering apologies and promises against her skin.

“Forgive me, beautiful. Please… just give me a chance,” he begged, his voice breaking even as his body claimed hers.

And though her mind screamed no, her body answered yes, over and over again, until they collapsed together in a trembling heap.

That night, as she left his place with her body sore and her heart torn, Lordy realized the truth she had been avoiding: she wasn’t just lost in lust.

She was falling in love with a man who didn’t belong to her.