Wrath of an Exile: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (The River Styx Heathens Book 1)

JUDE

November 9th

“We’re fucked if anyone catches us.”

The words tumble from Phi’s lips, her voice breathy and desperate as I haul her from the passenger seat into my lap. My hands clamp onto her hips, fingers digging in so hard I can feel the bruises already blooming beneath my grip—bruises she’ll try to cover up tomorrow, as if hiding them could somehow erase who put them there.

I’m rough. Unforgiving.

Weeks of pent-up frustration finally breaking loose, surging in a vicious wave of hunger I can’t hold back any longer. Every unsaid word, every silent confession, spills into the way I drag her closer, my grip unrelenting, my touch almost brutal. There’s no gentleness between us.

There never was.

“No, princess. I’m fucked if anyone catches us.” My lips curl into a smirk as I drag my thumb across her smeared lipstick, tracing the swollen curve of her bottom lip. “It’s me your dad and brother will be beating the shit out of.”

Her leather skirt rides up as she straddles me, pale thighs contrasting against the dark interior of the car. The only thing separating us is a thin scrap of silk. I shove the seat back, the metal screeching in protest, a sound that matches the chaos in my veins.

She makes everything so goddamn hard.

And I don’t just mean my dick.

It’s the way she builds walls faster than I can tear them down, how she pulls me in, only to vanish the next moment. One second, she’s letting me see her, feel her, and the next, she’s gone—like none of it meant anything.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t do this. I don’t want that. I⁠—”

But before she can finish, my hands slide beneath her skirt, fingers gripping her ass as I yank her flush against me. The heat of her core pressing into my jeans.

I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my kisses messy and urgent, the taste of vanilla mingling with sweat as my teeth graze her skin. I want to consume her, claim every inch of her until she forgets anything else ever existed.

“Watching you come for me will be worth the ER trip,” I breathe against her throat, “You can even play my naughty nurse.”

Thirteen days of silence, thirteen days of pretending the water tower didn’t matter—pretending I didn’t matter.

Then had the nerve to get jealous tonight.

I saw it in her eyes, that raw, unfiltered rage when she thought that girl was too close. Phi was ready to rip her hair out, and she hates herself for it. I can see it in the tension of her jaw, feel it in the way her fingers dig into my shoulders, trying to brand me.

Phi’s lost control, she’s given away how much she wants me without meaning to and it’s tearing her little ass up inside.

The thought stirs a need so primal in me, it’s almost painful.

I want to mark her so deep that even denial can’t erase it—leave something permanent, something she can’t scrub away in the shower, can’t forget in the dark.

Tonight, she’s gonna admit it.

She wants me.

And I’m done letting her pretend otherwise.

“In your dreams,” she breathes on a low, needy moan that rips from her lips, head tilting back, exposing her pale neck to me like an offering.

I grab her tube top and yank it down, baring her tits to the cool air. Her pierced nipples harden instantly, the sight alone making my dick throb painfully against the zipper of my jeans.

My mouth is on her before she can draw another breath. My wet tongue chases the goosebumps blooming across her skin, dragging a sharp gasp from her lips. Her back arches when I suck a nipple into my mouth, the clash of heat and metal making her tremble. Her fingers tangle in my hair, fisting it tight, pulling me closer like she’d let me devour her whole if I wanted.

Each sound that slips from her lips is a jolt of heat straight to my cock—breathy gasps that rip through me. Her aching pussy, grinding down on my lap like a cat in heat.

I can feel her wetness through the rough denim, a reminder of how fucking close we are and how far. It’s torture, a tease that makes my dick ache.

It’s furious, throbbing at the flimsy barriers between us, desperate to bury itself where it belongs—in that tight, wet cunt that’s just a few scraps of fabric away.

My teeth graze the curve of her breast, then sink into the sensitive flesh, just hard enough to leave a mark. I feel her tense beneath me, arching into the pain even as she whimpers.

“That’s it,” I groan against her skin, “Chase the pain only I bring you, little traitor.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Terrible.”

Her body trembles in my lap, still trying to fight back sense through the haze. “Someone could see.”

“Tinted windows, Geeks.” I mutter as my tongue traces the frantic pulse beneath. I nip at her again, this time harder, making her squirm. “No one’s gonna see what a filthy, traitorous slut you are for me.”

She tries to respond, but I swallow her protests with a bruising kiss, mouths colliding in a clash of tongues and teeth. It’s chaos, sweet like honey but burning like poison—addictively bitter.

My favorite fucking flavor—Seraphina Van Doren.

I palm her ass, squeezing possessively as I guide her over the hard ridge of my cock, dragging her down again and again until she’s panting into my mouth, each gasp hotter than the last.

She tries to pull back, desperate for air, but I don’t let her go. I bite down on her bottom lip, keeping her there, forcing her to choke on my breath, to swallow every ounce of the hunger between us. I want her dizzy, dazed, until she finally understands that in our twisted little universe?

She belongs to me.

Only me.

I deepen the kiss, swallowing every gasp, tasting the raw surrender on her lips. Her small hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, her hips grinding harder, chasing more. I shift beneath her, making sure my cock rubs right where she needs it.

Phi rips her mouth from mine, leaving me gasping, chest heaving like I’ve been starved of air. Her forehead presses against mine, brows furrowed, cherry-red hair sticking to sweat-damp skin, brushing my face.

“We should stop. We need to stop.”

Her voice is a shaky plea, her nails still biting into my shoulders, crescent moons that will linger as proof tomorrow. She clings to me, her need contradicting her words.

‘You say stop, and it’s over,’ I murmur, ‘You’ve got the control here, Phi. Always.’

It’s not a line—it’s a promise. As much as I want to lose myself in her, I won’t take more than she’s ready to give.

For a fleeting second, a flicker of softness breaks through her hard edges, a vulnerability that’s there and then gone, swallowed by that fiery stubbornness that makes me want to both kiss her and throttle her.

And then she does what I expect from a brat like her. She bites down on my bottom lip, sharp enough to sting, tugging with a mix of defiance and heat that shoots straight to my balls.

“Just one more minute.”

“One more minute,” I echo.

My hands slide down, fingers slipping over the thin silk of her panties, pushing the damp fabric aside to feel the slick heat waiting for me.

Phi shudders under my touch, her breath catching sharply. Her hair spills over her shoulders, vibrant against her pale skin, a wicked halo framing her flushed face. A sinful bloom of pink creeps up her neck and cheeks, making her look almost innocent.

Almost.

“Just one more second to feel how wet this needy little cunt gets for me,” I taunt, my thumb pressing into her clit. The pressure is light enough to tease, heavy enough to make her squirm. “Isn’t that right, vicious girl?”

Her breath hitches, lips parting as if to speak, but no words come out. Her pupils are blown wide, green irises swallowed whole by lust.

I circle her clit slowly, tracing maddening patterns that have her hips jerking against my hand. The cool metal of my ring contrasts against her feverish skin, each stroke sending sparks up her spine. I can feel her clenching, trying to drag me closer, to make me give her what she refuses to ask for.

“Admit you were jealous,” I growl, a wolfish grin tugging at my lips.

“Fuck you,” she spits, grinding her hips harder in a desperate, futile attempt to pull me deeper.

My laugh is dark, a low rumble against her neck as I part her folds, dipping my fingers just inside. Teasing, giving her a taste without the relief she craves.

I pull back slightly, my smirk taunting. “That’s the plan, baby. But first, you’re gonna tell me the truth.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes narrowing with stubborn defiance, but I feel the way she trembles, the way her body betrays her. She’s right on the edge, every ragged breath telling me how badly she needs it.

How badly she needs me.

“I wasn’t jealous,” she lies, voice barely more than a whisper.

I shake my head slowly, a tsk, tsk leaving my lips.

Such a stubborn little thing.

I slam my fingers deep, forcing a ragged cry from her throat, her head snapping back.

“Liar,” I rasp, curling my fingers just right, feeling her walls flutter around me. “Come on, sweetheart. Say it, and I’ll give you more. You know I will. You know I can make this needy pussy feel so goddamn good.”

“You really get off on being a bastard, don’t you?”

I keep my fingers buried deep, but I go still—pinning her down on my lap, letting her tight, dripping heat clench around me. I hold her there, trapped, helpless. Her thighs shake, her core pulsing around the intrusion, but I don’t let her move an inch.

“No, I get off on breaking you.” I snarl, my tone razor-sharp, almost vicious. “Until all that’s left is what’s real. The girl who is so fucking achy for me. The dirty fucking whore that is desperate for her foster brother’s cock.”

Not the queen with a crown. Not the girl who hides behind her anger.

The one who’s still there, beneath all the broken pieces. The real her.

That’s who I want.

My fingers twitch inside her, a teasing reminder of the pleasure just beyond her reach. Her lips tremble, breath hitching, her body betraying her completely as she clenches around me, desperate for more. It’s maddening—the way her pride is still trying to put up a fight even as her body screams for surrender.

“I will sit here with my fingers buried in your bratty cunt all goddamn night, Phi. Don’t make⁠—”

“I was jealous! I was fucking jealous, Jude,” She finally chokes out, voice raw. “I wanted to rip her apart. Wanted her gone, just so you’d keep seeing me.”

Her confession spills from her, torn and desperate, and I watch it wash over her—shame, anger, hunger colliding all at once. It’s brutal, and it’s fucking beautiful.

“Stubborn fucking girl,” I growl, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her closer. “You don’t get it, do you? I always see you.”

My thumb presses into her clit, rubbing ruthless circles as my fingers slam into her warmth, unrelenting.

“I’m always fucking seeing you, Phi. In every room, no matter how much I want to ignore you, you burn too fucking bright. You’re the goddamn sun, and I hate that I can’t stop looking at you.”

I shove my fingers deeper, the slick sounds echoing between us, her warmth soaking into my jeans. Her body arches, hips jerking wildly, trying to take more.

Her breathing is shattered, desperate, and I can feel the way she tightens around my fingers, clinging to every inch I give. She’s right there, teetering on the brink, her pulse erratic beneath my palm.

“You think I like this?” I murmur, voice rough against her ear. “Being caught up in you, wanting what I shouldn’t? But here I am, Phi—just like you, ruined by this.”

“Jude!” Phi’s back arches, a ragged cry ripping from her throat as I stretch her open.

“Yes, princess? Jude what?” I tease, lazily pumping inside her, feeling her tighten around my fingers. “Jude, please keep ruining me? Jude, fill my needy cunt with your fat cock? What is it, baby? Say it.”

My cock throbs with envy, desperate to replace my hand and claim the wet heat that’s squeezing me so greedily.

When I curl my fingers inside her just right, she lets out a desperate whimper.

Ah, there it is.

The sweet spot that makes her entire body tremble, her breath turning ragged, chest heaving like she’s struggling to hold herself together. Her lips part in a silent plea, teetering right on the edge of breaking.

“Be a good girl, Phi. Show me how much you fucking hate wanting me.”

And then she shatters.

Her climax hits her like a violent storm, walls clenching around my fingers in rhythmic, desperate spasms. Her hips buck wildly, her body arching as she’s thrown into the abyss of pleasure, a guttural cry ripped from her throat. Wetness floods my hand, drenching my lap, the heat of it searing against my skin.

I hold her through it, my fingers slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last wave of her release.

She’s wrecked, exposed, raw—everything I wanted her to be.

I pull my fingers out slowly, savoring the way she shudders from the lingering sensitivity. Her entire body collapses against me, breathing coming out in ragged, uneven gasps as the aftershocks ripple through her.

Phi’s flushed skin is damp with sweat, and the rawness in her gaze hits me straight in the chest.

“There’s my girl,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers, “How’s our universe?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, her lips still swollen from our brutal kisses, breaths coming out in slow, shaky exhales. She stares at me for a beat, and there’s something in those pretty eyes—vulnerability, hatred, maybe both.

“Fucked up. This universe is completely fucked up.”

“Fucked or not, it’s ours, Phi.” I murmur, brushing a thumb across her swollen bottom lip, eyes locked on hers, “And I’m not letting you leave it until that hot pussy shatters on my cock.”

My gaze lingers, soaking in every inch of her—sweaty, flushed, marked by me. And then, just as I’m about to pull her back down for another bruising kiss, my eyes catch a detail that’s so absurdly Phi it makes the corners of my mouth twitch.

“Fucking nerd,” I murmur, motioning down to the space between us.

Phi’s brows knit for a second, confusion shadowing her face. Then it clicks, and a blinding smile spreads across her lips as she’s reminded of what panties she’s wearing.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

A black silk number with the words, Use the force, daddy printed right along the hem.

“You own six editions of the same Stephen King book,” She shrugs, completely unbothered, “Pot, meet the whole fucking cookware set.”

I arch a brow, mirroring her smirk. “Going through my room again, Geeks?”

And just like the Van Doren she is, she sidesteps owning up to anything that involves a Sinclair.

“I’ll take the fifth, thanks.”

I nudge her nose playfully, letting a low chuckle rumble in my chest. “Cute, Geeks.”

Giving her ass a little smack, I reach for a condom in the dash. Already feeling her hands moving, trembling with urgency as she tugs my jeans down my thighs.

The relief is instant, but it’s not enough—only a tease of what I crave, what I need.

Phi’s fingers wrap around the base of my cock, her thumb swiping over the swollen tip to collect the bead of pre-cum gathering there. Her eyes meet mine, hungry, dark, before she slowly brings her thumb to her mouth, sucking it clean with a throaty moan.

“If you’re that desperate for my cum, I could fill that filthy mouth.”

“Drown me in it, Loner,” she bites back, her teeth grazing my lip in a wicked grin.

Her small hand wraps around my shaft, barely able to circle it, but she starts stroking slowly, each movement a torturous tease.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” I groan.

She just smirks, snagging the condom from my fingers.

“You didn’t know? No man’s ever survived me.” She tears it open with her teeth, her eyes blazing. “Dead men tell no tales, J.”

My head falls back against the headrest, veins thrumming beneath my skin, as she rolls the latex down my length.

Consider me her last victim because, goddamn, this girl…

This girl is…fuck.

Phi’s hair falls over her delicate shoulders as she lifts herself, aligning us, before slowly sinking down. The instant stretch steals the air from both of us, the tight, searing heat closing around me like a vice.

I watch, mesmerized, as her slick walls fight to adjust around my cock, her body struggling to take all of me. Each inch feels like a battle, every desperate clench a reminder of just how tight she is.

“Now I remember why I was so fucking sore last time,” She huffs, frustration lacing her voice. “How the hell did this even work before?”

“You were too busy bitching at me to think about how deep I was in your guts.”

It’s said on a groan, teeth clenching with the effort to not plunge my length inside her.

The first time I took her, I hurt her—driven by the need to mark her, to leave bruises beneath the surface, to make her feel me for days. I wanted to break the untouchable vixen. It was savage, cruel satisfaction.

But now, as she struggles, regret slices through me, unexpected and raw.

I hate that I hurt this Phi.

My vicious little disaster. My Geeks.

The girl who’s so clear to me now, she feels like glass in my hands.

“Jude, it’s…too much⁠—”

“Not for you,” I interrupt, my fingers tracing slow, soothing lines along her inner thighs. “This perfect cunt knows how to take every inch of me, doesn’t she, sweetheart?”

A soft, broken whimper falls from her lips, her sea-glass eyes fluttering closed. I spread her wider, thumb pressing against her swollen clit, coaxing her to relax, to open up for me. Her wetness drenches my lap, each idle circle pushing her closer, making her body arch into my touch.

“No one takes it like my spoiled little brat. You were made for it. You got it, just relax for me. Let me make you feel good.”

The praise seeps into her like fuel, the academic overachiever in her lapping it up. I feel her start to loosen, the tension melting away as she finally gives in, letting me take control, letting me own her completely.

“There you go. Just like that.” I coax, voice rough, “Look at you, pretty thing, letting my dick stretch you open.”

The words hit her like a shockwave, her walls squeezing around me. Her breath hitches, her hips forcing down, taking the last few inches in one slow, torturous drop.

I don’t believe in God.

But Phi’s pussy might just make me a born-again Catholic, because if this is what heaven feels like?

I’d sell my soul twice to stay here.

“Good fucking girl, Phi,” I groan, my grip on her hips turning bruising as I hold her still, cock pulsing inside her. “Good goddamn girl.”

But then reality punches through the haze.

A burst of laughter pierces the fogged windows, too close and way too real.

Not hers. Definitely not fucking mine.

‘Shit, dude, you got a lighter?’ someone slurs right outside.

‘Yeah, man, here—hold the blunt,’ comes the lazy reply, their blurred silhouettes visible through the steamed-up glass.

Cold panic slices through my lust, but the need to be inside her—right here, right now—burns hotter. Phi’s head jerks toward the window, eyes wide with panic, catching the flicker of orange embers through the glass.

We are so goddamn fucked.

That’s what logic screams, urging me to pull out, separate, hide. But logic is useless when I’m balls-deep in Phi, her slick heat clenching around me with a need so fierce it’s painful.

Even through the thin barrier of latex, it’s raw, animalistic—the tightest, hottest thing I’ve ever felt. My body’s screaming for release, brain fogged by lust, and nothing outside this car matters.

Nothing.

“Jude—”

I thrust up into her, cutting her words off with a sharp gasp.

My groan rumbles low, guttural, as I bury my face against her neck, her skin fever-hot and soaked in sweat. The scent of vanilla and smoke sends me over the edge, drowning me in her.

Just the idea of stopping, of pulling out and losing the feel of her tight, needy pussy wrapped around me, physically hurts me.

“Please, just a little longer.” I hum against her ear, dragging my nose along the column of her throat, “I just need to be inside you for one more minute. You’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so good. Let me have your pussy for another minute, baby.”

Phi trembles in my arms, caught in a desperate struggle between reason and surrender.

“Another minute,” she breathes, voice shaky, barely more than a whisper.

The second her hips move, my restraint shatters.

Gone—obliterated in the thrill of getting caught, in the heat of her. She rides me a little harder, wetter, her body moving like she’s designed to break me apart.

“A few more seconds,” I rasp, the lie burning in my throat. “Then I’ll pull out.”

“Yeah.” She nods eagerly, grinding up and down my shaft, “We’ll stop soon.”

But the way she moves? Soon can go to hell. Disrespectfully.

“Look at how fucking wet you are,” I snarl, grabbing her chin and forcing her gaze down. “Look at you, Phi. Look at what a dirty slut you are, risking everything just so you can fuck me.”

Her eyes dart down to the obscene sight between us. Her swollen cunt stretched wide around me, each brutal thrust a reckless pursuit of pleasure. Slick heat drips from her, coating my cock, a sinful baptism in the kind of lust that damns you.

“You like this, don’t you? Knowing they can hear you taking me like a fucking dream?”

She doesn’t answer with words; she doesn’t have to. Her response is in the frantic rhythm of her hips, in the way her pussy squeezes tighter drawing me deeper with every desperate thrust.

Phi is drenching me.

The sound of it is filthy, fucking pornographic—wet smacks of skin on skin mixed with the thick, heady scent of sex.

“You like it so much you’re dripping all over my seats, Phi.” I rasp, voice tight, “You’re my favorite little attention whore, aren’t you? Wanting them to hear, wanting them to see how those perky tits bounce while you ride me.”

“J—Jude, I have to slow down, we—” Her voice breaks, tangled in desire, a pathetic attempt at logic. “The car…it’s rocking. They’ll know. They can’t know.”

But despite her words, her body does the opposite.

Phi’s hips move faster, hungrier, as if the fear only fuels the fire burning between us. She’s not just riding me—she’s chasing the danger of getting caught, savoring it like the sweetest drug.

“Let them find out, Phi,” I taunt, smacking her ass hard, “It’s not gonna stop your greedy pussy from taking what it wants. You’d keep milking my cock even if I rolled the window down and gave them a peek.”

“This is so wrong. It’s fucking crazy.” She slams her palm against the roof of the car, using the leverage to fuck me harder.

Her brows are furrowed, lips parted, as the tension coils tighter inside her. She rides me with a desperation that borders on insanity and I know she’ll regret it in the morning—when her body’s sore and marked with reminders of everything we shouldn’t be.

“Yo, did you hear that?” a voice drifts through the haze from outside.

It should be our wake-up call.

But to Phi, it’s just more fuel.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pause. Instead, she grabs my hand, yanking it from her waist and shoving it between her thighs, her movements frantic.

“Play with my clit,” she demands shamelessly. “Harder. Yes, fuck, just like that.”

I love it—love how she’s unfiltered, owning every bit of her need. It drives me fucking wild, makes my blood roar like I’m the one unraveling.

Following her orders, I strum her clit with a relentless rhythm. Making her pussy cry for me, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. Her wet heat soaking me, sticky and sweet as she chases her high.

“Jude…Fuck, I need… I need⁠—”

Phi’s falling apart, a live wire burning bright, pressed tight against me.

And God, I’m addicted to it.

I love that it’s me driving her to this point, bringing out a side of her no one else gets to see—vulnerable, desperate, completely mine.

“What do you need, Phi?” I taunt, my words edged with control and a twisted kind of tenderness. “Need my permission to break? Need to hear you’ve done a good job taking my cock?”

The Queen of Disaster, needing my words, my hands, my dick, to come undone. Who fucking knew?

“You’ve been so good,” I growl, voice rough as I thrust deeper, our bodies continuing to make obscene noises as they clash together, “My perfect little whore, taking every inch like you were made for it. Don’t fight it. Let it rip you apart. Let me rip you apart, baby.”

And that’s all it takes. My words hit her like a sledgehammer, breaking down every last bit of her resistance. She goes tight, spasming hard as her orgasm crashes over her, walls clenching down so viciously it feels like she’s trying to fuse our bodies together.

“Yes, baby, yes…” I murmur as I feel the hot rush of her release coat my dick. “Just like that, baby. Flood my cock. Fucking soak me.”

Phi’s scream is muffled, her face buried in my neck, and the intensity makes my cock pulse. It’s a sound that’s both primal and fragile, pleasure ripping through her like it’s too much for her little body to contain.

The way her face twists with pleasure, so unguarded, is enough to make my own release claw up my spine.

Both my arms curl around her waist, pulling her tighter to my chest, forcing her to take every brutal thrust. Phi’s so gone, so blissed out that her body’s gone limp. Boneless, nothing but a filthy, pretty doll to make my cock feel good.

Mine to ruin. Mine to break.

My vicious, broken puppet. Her lonely, angry puppeteer.

My mouth latches onto her nipple, sucking hard, the metal cold against my burning tongue as I bounce her mercilessly in my lap.

The car rocks violently beneath us, the movement shameless, but I couldn’t give a single fuck. If those stoned idiots outside decide to come closer, I’ll rip their heads from their goddamn shoulders.

With my teeth.

There’s no room for caution, no thoughts of consequence allowed when I’m balls-deep in the best pussy on the west coast.

Hell, scratch that—the whole goddamn world.

Phi’s fingers twist in my hair, a rough tug that forces my head back. Our eyes lock and hers are the most untamed shade of green I’ve ever seen. For a split second, I’m no longer the predator.

I’m the prey, caught in the vixen’s trap.

“Wanna come for me, J?” She purrs, dragging her smirking mouth across mine in a ghost of a kiss, “Be my good fucking boy and come.”

Fuck. Me.

The tension at the base of my spine coils tight, my balls pulling up painfully, every muscle tensing as I drive up into her with erratic, punishing thrusts. Her slick walls are pliant, wet, choking me, letting me take what I need.

“Goddamnit, Phi⁠—”

The words tear from my throat, dragged from the darkest, most feral parts of me. The parts that exists only to fuck, fill, and completely wreck every inch of this tight, wet little body in my hands.

My teeth sink hard into her collarbone, forcing her pussy to slam down on my shaft one last time. I hold her down on my lap, burying myself deep, forcing her to feel every throbbing inch of my cock.

Ecstasy pulls me under, crashing over like an unforgiving tidal wave as my entire body goes rigid. Every muscle locked in place, each brutal pulse of pleasure humming through my veins, as I spill into the condom.

Anger zips through me, just now remembering that Phi’s on birth control, and I missed an opportunity to watch me drip from her swollen cunt. My jaw clenches, picturing my fingers shoving it back into her cum-hungry hole.

For a moment, the only sound is our breathing—ragged, cutting through the blistering heat trapped inside my car. The windows are fogged over, smeared with the raw, illicit evidence of the line we keep obliterating.

Lust paints the glass in hazy streaks, each one a silent confession. Her betrayal is written in the steam, clinging to the glass like a sin she can’t wipe away.

We’re locked inside our own forbidden snow globe.

Phi shivers slightly, leaning back with careful ease, her spine grazing the steering wheel without pressing it.

She’s flushed a deep, feverish pink, her skin glistening with sweat. Her eyes are hazy, still glassy with unshed tears of pleasure, lashes wet and dark against her cheeks.

It’s like looking at the aftermath of a storm—chaos in its most beautiful, vulnerable form.

She’s all ruin and radiance, a deviant shooting star—one that tempts you to whisper your deepest wish but grants your darkest fear instead.

Phi’s body is still trembling against me, her breath uneven, her skin warm and slick beneath my fingertips. My hands remain splayed across her hips, fingers pressing into soft flesh as I ground her on my lap.

There’s a vulnerability in the way she leans into me, resting her head against my chest.

This wasn’t just sex.

It’s something deeper—an addiction that feels like fate and tastes like tragedy.

And I still want it.

I want her.

Not just her body, but all the parts she won’t let anyone else touch.

Even when I know I shouldn’t.

Even when I know this is a mistake that will cost me everything.