SIN (100 FORBIDDEN s*x STORIES)

My hot neighbour 3

Eli Pov:

I knew her name before she ever spoke it to me.

Lena.

It suited her, it was soft but sharp, like the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, or how she’d glare at her laptop like it personally offended her. I’d watched her for weeks through the slats of my blinds, I've seen her sketching at her window, dancing barefoot in her kitchen to music I couldn’t hear, pacing when she was stuck on a deadline. I told myself it was harmless. Just observation and curiosity.

But last night, when we nearly collided in the hallway, and she admitted she knew my name too, that changed everything.

I didn’t sleep.

Instead, I replayed the way her eyes widened when I said I paid attention. The flush that crept up her neck. The way her fingers trembled just slightly when she pulled away from my touch. I wanted to reach for her again. Wanted to see if her skin was as warm as it looked under that golden hallway light.

Then this morning, the sky broke open.

Rain hammered the city like it had a grudge. I was sanding down a cabinet in my living room, barefoot and my shirt already sticking to my back, when I saw her through the window. She stood under the awning of our building, soaked to the bone, arms wrapped around herself, with no umbrella and jacket. Just that same oversized sweater she’d worn yesterday, now clinging to every curve like a second skin.

And then I saw the panic in her eyes as she patted her pockets, searching for her keys. She’d forgotten them.

I was at my door before I’d fully decided to move.

“Lena!” I called over the downpour.

She turned, rainwater dripping from her lashes.

“I locked myself out,” she shouted, her voice barely audible over the storm. “Left my keys at the studio.”

“Come in,” I said, stepping back. “You’re drenched.”

She hesitated, just a heartbeat, but the rain decided for her. She ducked inside, shivering, water pooling at her feet.

“God, I’m sorry,” she said, glancing down at the puddle forming on my hardwood. “I’ll clean it up…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I grabbed a towel from the linen closet and handed it to her. “Here. Dry off before you catch something.”

She took it with murmured thanks, rubbing it over her arms, her hair. But she was still shivering, her teeth chattering slightly.

“Your hair’s still soaked,” I said. “Let me.”

Before she could protest, I took the towel from her hands. Gently, I stepped closer. She smelled like rain and lavender shampoo. My fingers brushed her neck as I lifted the towel to her hair, and she let out a soft, involuntary sigh.

I worked slowly, carefully. Squeezing water from the ends, blotting the strands near her scalp. She kept her eyes closed at first, her head tilted back slightly, trusting me in a way that made my chest ache.

Then she opened her eyes and looked right at me.

Time stopped.

Her eyes, those deep brown eyes held mine with an intensity that stole my breath. Rain still clung to her lashes. Her lips were slightly parted. I could see the pulse fluttering in her throat.

I didn’t plan to kiss her.

But I couldn’t help myself, not when she was this close.

I dropped the towel. My hands found her waist, pulling her against me. She came without resistance, rising onto her toes as if she’d been waiting for this. Our mouths met, it was hesitant at first, then desperate.

It wasn’t gentle. It was hunger, and relief. Weeks of stolen glances and hallway tension collapsing into this single, searing point of contact. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. My body pressed hers back against the wall, needing to feel all of her, now.

She tasted like rain and coffee and something uniquely. I groaned into her mouth, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip like I could fuse us together.

She broke away first, just an inch, breathless. “Eli…” She called out.

“Yeah?” I murmured, lips grazing her jaw.

“I’ve wanted this,” she whispered. “Since the first time I saw you on that balcony. I've always wanted to have you. To feel you, to taste you.”

I pulled back just enough to look at her. Rainwater still glistened on her collarbone. Her sweater was ruined. Her hair was a mess. And she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Me too,” I said with a tough voice. “Every damn day Lena. You drive me crazy. You have no idea how f*****g pretty and hot you are."

Then I kissed her again, slower this time, and deeper. Letting her feel it. Letting her know this wasn’t just heat. It was her.

Her lips left mine, but her forehead stayed pressed to my chest. I could feel her heart hammering fast.

“Are you cold?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

She shook her head, but her teeth chattered anyway.

“Liar.” I cupped her face, tilting it up. Rainwater still clung to her lashes. “Let me get you dry.”

My fingers went to the hem of her sweater first. She lifted her arms without a word, and I peeled it off slow, like unwrapping something precious. Beneath, her camisole was wet with rain, clinging to every curve, every peak. My throat went tight.

She reached for my shirt then, fumbling with the top button, her knuckles brushing my collarbone. I helped her, shrugging out of it, letting it drop. Her palms flattened against my bare chest, warm now despite the chill, and she let out a shaky breath.

“You’re trembling,” I murmured.

I unhooked her bra with one hand, just a soft click and the straps slid down her arms like silk falling, revealing two firm breasts, waiting for me to cup them.She didn’t cover herself. She just watched me.

My hands went to her jeans next. I knelt, tugging them down over her hips, past her thighs, her calves. She stepped out barefoot, standing before me in nothing but nakedness.

I rose slowly, my body aching to close the space between us.

“Eli…” she whispered.

I didn’t answer with words. Just pulled her against me.

"I'm gonna f**k you so badly that you'll beg for more"