Page 3 of Twice as Forbidden

The door swings open, and my breath catches as his father steps inside, filling the doorway with his imposing presence. “I’ll stop when you get up. We had a deal.” My breath catches, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I’m willing to venture you’re here to fuck.”

“We’re just sleeping. Not a big deal.” Noah shifts off me and sits up. I follow, remembering I’m only wearing an oversized T-shirt. I glance over at Noah, who’s in nothing but boxer briefs, and more heat floods my face.

“Is that so?”

At his question, I make the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes lock on mine, burning with the same intensity as last night. It stirs something inside me, making my thighs quiver. He doesn’t seem to care that his son is beside me as his eyes roam over me. I sit, frozen, wishing I could cover the way my nipples have hardened beneath my shirt.

Noah’s hand lands on my bare thigh, and I jump.

“Relax, he’s all bark, no bite. Dad, it’s fine.”

I’m not so sure about that.

He finally releases his hold on me and addresses Noah. “My house, my rules. Separate rooms. Now, get up and get dressed. I don’t appreciate tardiness on your first day.” Then he’s gone.

The tension in my chest releases in a quiet rush of breath. Noah pushes the covers back and stands, the warmth from moments ago vanishing as his posture stiffens. His expression shudders, eyes cooling to something unreadable—distant. Detached.

“Gonna get ready. Meet you downstairs,” he says, his tone clipped. Then, he strides down the hall without a backward glance.

Chapter three

Jackson

“Thanks,Jim.Ineedthe financials by lunch. Great.” I hang up and take a sip of coffee. My meeting went to shit yesterday, so instead of going home to prepare for my son’s arrival, I ended up at Exquisite, drowning my frustration in bourbon. I didn’t expect to get home and find a young woman in my bedroom. Was I surprised? Yeah. Was it unheard of? No. I’ve had my fair share of sexual partners, even those instructed to enter my home with a provided code and wait for me, naked and ready.

I’m a man with distinctive taste. I have no shame in wanting to bind and gag a beautiful woman. The little purrs they make when they’re tied up, then spanked and fucked are music to my ears. The sensation of my fingers sinking into soft flesh, creating pleasurable pain…

Just thinking about it wakes my dick up.

It’s why I find myself at the private gentlemen’s club most nights. To have a woman on her knees, watching the intensity in her greedy eyes as I gag her with my cock… fucking her mouth until pretty little tears stream down her face… the satisfaction of my cum coating her throat, her chin…

Fuck...

My thoughts circle back to the little surprise I found waiting for me last night.

Georgia. Like the peach.

Noah’s fucking girlfriend.

With all the alcohol flooding my system, I thought I had set up a playdate and forgotten. When I walked into my room and saw her, even from the back, my cock sprung to life. Unlike the women I usually hire, she was dressed in black yoga pants and a short, tight shirt, exposing her lower back. Her hair fell to her shoulders, and I imagined it would feel like silk between my fingers as I tugged and pulled on it.

The little thing jumped when I spoke. She’d been nervous, and it had made me harder. I enjoy a woman who knows what she wants. But the ones who need to be taught are a rare breed. She reeked of innocence, and I wanted nothing more than to ruin her, starting with tasting her full lips and working my way down to tease her plump tits while I stroke my cock between them.

I stepped forward, ready to push her to her knees, needing those pretty pink lips around my cock, but before I could demand she drop like a good girl, she opened her mouth and wrecked everything.

My cock was more pissed than I was to find out why she was there, invading my private space. Noah knew better than to come in here, let alone allow his guests. Yet, there she’d been, inviting herself into my bedroom to snoop around.

I wonder how far she got. Did she open any of the drawers? See my toys?

Fuck... did she like them? Did they intrigue her?

I shouldn’t have made her leave so quickly. I should have given her more of a scare so she would know not to trespass again. But I can’t deny fantasizing about her in my bed, mewling and moaning while I shoved my fingers so deep inside her, she thrashed and begged for more…

I take another sip of coffee as Noah walks into the kitchen. “Morning.”

He grunts, barely acknowledging me as he heads toward the coffee machine. Noah and I are hardly on speaking terms—the number one reason I’m glad I had the wherewithal to send the little temptress away. I have no problem crossing moral lines with a fucking smile on my face, but I don’t need to jeopardize our barely existent relationship further.

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