CHAPTER 1: THE INTRUDER’S TOY
(TW: NON-CONSENSUAL s*x AND EXTREMES. DO NOT READ. AND DO NOT REPLICATE!)
The house is a tomb at 2:17 AM, the kind of silence that presses against your eardrums when you’re the only one breathing in it.
I’m standing at the kitchen sink in nothing but a pair of baby-pink cotton sleep shorts that cling to the curve of my ass and ride up between my p***y lips with every shift of my hips, and a champagne silk robe that’s knotted so loosely the front gapes open, letting my heavy breasts spill halfway out.
My n*****s are stiff from the AC and from the ache of being untouched for so long.
My husband—some high-powered asshole who hasn’t laid a hand on me in eight months—is off in Tokyo or Singapore or wherever the f**k he goes to pretend he’s important.
I’m
