Something About Him

**Chapter One: Something About Him**

Lena had always been the "good girl." Sweet, responsible, soft-spoken. At twenty-two, she'd built a life that was simple but stable: a steady job, a decent boyfriend, a modest apartment on the edge of the city. She worked at a local kindergarten where she was beloved by both kids and parents. Every morning, she tied her chestnut-brown hair into a ponytail, slipped into her soft pink scrubs, and headed into a world of crayons, snacks, and songs.

It wasn't glamorous, but it felt *right*. She was good with children. Gentle. Patient. The kind of person who remembered birthdays and cut sandwiches into heart shapes without being asked.

And Alex--her boyfriend of two years--appreciated that about her. Or, at least, he used to.

He was a software developer at a small but promising startup, one of those tech companies with exposed brick walls and bean bag chairs. Lately, though, he was always exhausted. Deadlines piled up. Paychecks came late. Most nights, he came home after ten, too tired to talk, let alone touch her. Their relationship had become polite, routine. She loved him... but it wasn't enough anymore. Not emotionally. Not physically.

Worse, rent had nearly doubled.

Which was how they ended up standing in the kitchen one Saturday morning, waiting for a stranger to move in.

"He's cool," Alex said, sipping his burnt coffee. "Friend of a coworker. He's between places and just needs a few months."

"What's he like?" Lena asked, arms folded.

"Chill. Athletic. A bit... confident," Alex said with a small smirk. "But he's a good guy. Paid first and last month's rent up front."

"Confident like 'friendly' or confident like 'walks around shirtless and hits on the landlord's wife'?" she asked dryly.

Alex laughed. "Relax. You'll like him."

She doubted that.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Alex opened it--and Lena blinked.

The man standing in the hallway didn't look like someone who belonged in their quiet, half-furnished apartment. He was tall, with broad shoulders under a worn grey hoodie, a gym bag slung across one arm, and a cocky half-smile on his face. His skin was tan, his jaw stubbled, and his eyes--blue, sharp, amused--landed on Lena like he already knew something about her.

"Hey," he said, stepping in. "You must be Lena."

"Hi," she said coolly. "You're Jared?"

"In the flesh," he said, tossing his bag to the floor. "Alex said you were sweet. But he didn't say you were drop-dead gorgeous."

She arched a brow. "And he didn't say you were a flirt."

"Guess we're both learning things," Jared said with a wink.

Alex chuckled as if that was harmless. Lena just gave a tight smile and turned to walk away.

---

By Sunday, she already hated him.

Not because he was rude--he wasn't. Not because he was messy--he wasn't that either. No, what she hated was the *way* he existed. Loud. Confident. Too comfortable.

He walked around shirtless after workouts, his toned abs and low-slung sweatpants making her pulse betray her. He laughed loudly at his own jokes, watched sports like he was in the stadium, and managed to make every room feel smaller when he entered it.

And worst of all--he noticed her.

Every glance. Every outfit. Every time she blushed and looked away, he noticed.

That Monday morning, she came out of the bathroom in a loose t-shirt and underwear, thinking he was out jogging. He wasn't. He was on the couch, sipping coffee, bare chest on full display.

He whistled low. "Damn. That's a dangerous look to bring into the kitchen."

She froze, clutching the hem of her shirt. "I thought you were out."

He grinned lazily. "I was. Came back early. I won't tell your boyfriend."

"I'm not hiding anything," she muttered, grabbing a banana from the counter.

"Didn't say you were." He tilted his head. "You always this jumpy, or just around me?"

She turned to glare at him--but he wasn't mocking her. He looked... curious. Like he was trying to figure her out.

"I don't like smug guys who think they're God's gift," she said flatly.

He chuckled. "That's fair. But just for the record, I don't think I'm God's gift. I think I'm trouble. Big difference."

"Good," she said sharply. "Then stay out of my way."

But even as she turned to walk off, she could feel his gaze on her legs. And worse--she felt the heat between her thighs from it.

She hated that.

---

That night, Alex came home past ten again. She'd made pasta, reheated it twice, and eventually ate alone.

When he finally walked in, she stood and tried to smile. "Hey. Long day?"

He dropped his laptop bag on the couch and pulled her into a hug. "So long. I'm sorry. I wanted to be home earlier."

"It's okay," she whispered, letting him hold her.

They made love that night--if it could be called that. It was sweet, familiar, and careful. Always careful. He kissed her like she might break. Touched her like he was afraid of hurting her.

When he fell asleep, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, biting her lip.

Something was missing.

Something she didn't even know how to name.

But when she thought of Jared--his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at her like he could read all her secrets--her skin prickled.

She told herself it was just frustration.

She told herself she'd never cross that line.

But something had shifted the moment Jared walked through the door.

And deep down, Lena knew it was only a matter of time.

---

**Chapter Two: The Glance That Changed Everything**

The accident happened on a Thursday.

It had been a miserable day. Rain clung to the windows in thin rivulets as Lena trudged home, soaked from head to toe despite her umbrella. Her scrubs were damp, her shoes squeaked, and her patience was long gone after a child threw up on her right before dismissal.

All she wanted was a shower, food, and to fall into bed with no interruptions.

The apartment was quiet when she got home. Alex had texted that he'd be working late--again. Jared's bedroom door was cracked open, but she figured he was out. The bathroom light was off. Good.

She grabbed a towel, tiptoed across the hallway, and pushed the bathroom door open--

--and gasped.

He was right there. Completely, *utterly*, naked.

Steam clung to his skin like mist. Water droplets glistened along his abs, his thighs, his--

"Oh my God!" she yelped, stumbling backward.

Jared turned, startled, his hands nowhere near anything helpful.

"Shit! Lena--hey!" He didn't even move to cover himself, just reached calmly for a towel with that maddening, unbothered look on his face. "You didn't knock."

"You didn't lock the door!"

"I just got out," he said, smirking as he casually wrapped the towel around his waist. "Honest mistake. Not that I mind being seen."

She could feel her cheeks burning. Her eyes had already betrayed her. She'd seen everything. **All** of him. And he was--

Huge.

Not in an exaggerated, braggy way. Just... *impressively* built. Her brain short-circuited as she tried not to compare him to Alex. But it was impossible.

"You--you're unbelievable," she muttered, backing away, bumping into the doorframe.

"I've been told." That smirk again. God, she hated how good it looked on him. "But hey, if you wanted to get a better look, you could've just asked."

She didn't respond. She fled into her room, slammed the door, and buried her face in her pillow.

*What the hell is wrong with me?*

She wasn't supposed to notice things like that. She wasn't supposed to *care*. But the image was burned into her brain, vivid and impossible to ignore.

---

After that day, something shifted. Quietly. Subtly.

He started glancing at her more. Not long stares, not overt gestures--just quick, knowing looks when Alex wasn't paying attention. He'd catch her watching him and lift one brow like he could hear her thoughts.

And to her own horror... she started playing along.

Not on purpose, not consciously. But over the next few days, her outfits began to change. Slightly tighter tops. Leggings instead of sweats. One afternoon, she wore a low-back tank top around the apartment and caught him openly checking her out. He didn't even bother hiding it.

"Damn," he muttered with a grin, licking peanut butter off his thumb. "You trying to make housework dangerous?"

She tried to scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You bend over to pick up one more sock and I'm gonna need to call 911."

She rolled her eyes--but her stomach flipped.

Alex was there that evening, typing on his laptop while they watched a movie together on the couch. Lena sat beside him, legs tucked under her, but her eyes kept drifting to Jared, sprawled across the loveseat, shirtless again, a lazy smirk on his face.

He caught her looking. Raised a brow. Wiggled one of his eyebrows.

She snapped her eyes back to the screen, cheeks burning.

"You okay?" Alex asked, looking over.

"Yeah," she said quickly. "Just tired."

"Mmm," Jared hummed under his breath. "You don't *look* tired."

She pretended not to hear that. But her body did. Her thighs clenched.

Later that week, Jared came up behind her in the kitchen while she was making tea. Alex had stepped out for a quick grocery run.

"Nice shirt," he said casually, leaning over her shoulder. "Pink suits you."

She swallowed hard, feeling how close he was. "It's just a t-shirt."

"Still," he said, low in her ear. "Does things to me."

She spun to face him, trying to sound firm. "You need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Flirting. Teasing. Looking at me like that."

He didn't back up. He just leaned one arm against the wall, boxing her in. "I can't help how I look at you."

"That's not my problem."

"No," he said, voice smooth. "But it's your reaction I'm curious about."

She hated him.

She hated how he made her feel.

She hated how her nipples tightened under her shirt just from the sound of his voice.

And she *really* hated that she stood there, not pushing him away.

Alex's key turned in the lock. Jared stepped back, casual as ever, like nothing had happened.

Lena's hands trembled as she reached for her tea.

---

The next night, as she sat in bed alone while Alex snored beside her, Lena opened her phone and scrolled through pictures of random things until her mind stopped replaying that moment in the kitchen.

It didn't work.

Jared was in her head.

Smug. Athletic. Unapologetically male.

She'd seen all of him.

And she didn't just want to forget.

She wanted to see what else he could do.

---

**Chapter Three: Walls Too Thin**

The apartment was too quiet that night.

Lena couldn't sleep. She lay in bed with her back to Alex, his arm draped over her waist, his breathing deep and even. The faint hum of the city came through the cracked window, and rain whispered against the glass--soft and rhythmic. It should have been peaceful.

But something felt off.

She didn't know why she was tense until she heard the first sound: a muffled laugh from the room down the hall. Jared's room.

A woman's laugh.

Lena froze.

She listened harder, the way someone listens when they hope they misheard. But there it was again--another giggle, higher now, followed by the faint squeak of a bedspring.

She stared at the wall. Alex stirred behind her, muttered something incoherent, then turned onto his stomach, face buried in his pillow. Asleep. Unaware.

Lena's chest tightened.

Then came the moan.

Long. Loud. Shameless.

She sat up slowly, heart pounding. There was no mistaking it now. Jared had someone over. And not just over--*in* him, under him. She couldn't move. Couldn't look away from the wall, even though it offered no answers.

The sounds became clearer, more rhythmic: the slap of skin, the creak of the bed, the breathless *"oh my God, yes!"* from a woman she didn't recognize. She was vocal--uninhibited. Her cries filled the hallway and slipped through Lena's door like smoke.

Jared said nothing at first. But then his voice came low and rough, like gravel soaked in heat.

"You like that?" he growled. "You want more?"

The woman gasped something incoherent--and the rhythm intensified.

Lena's thighs pressed together instinctively.

She knew she should be disgusted. She knew she should roll over, bury her head in the pillow, and ignore it. But she didn't.

She sat frozen, pulse thudding in her ears, skin prickling with something dark and confusing.

The woman was moaning like she was being *wrecked*. Loud, unfiltered. The kind of sounds Lena never made during sex with Alex. The kind of sounds she didn't even know she could make.

Lena's hand slipped under the covers.

She paused. Her fingers hovered just above her underwear, shame flooding her all at once.

What was she doing?

But then Jared spoke again.

"Take it. That's it. Don't stop."

The girl sobbed a loud, broken moan--and Lena's fingers moved.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was like her body had betrayed her. Every part of her buzzed with heat, need, frustration. Alex was still sleeping soundly beside her, completely oblivious. But she was wide awake, rubbing herself slowly, every whimper from the next room making her wetter.

She pictured Jared's hands gripping that woman's hips. His back muscles flexing. His mouth at her neck, murmuring filth while he drove into her. She *heard* it. Felt it.

Her fingers moved faster.

The woman let out a sharp cry.

"Harder," she begged.

The bed slammed harder against the wall. Jared growled something low and unintelligible.

Lena came with a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the moan that rose from her throat. Her body shook with it--tense, breathless, drenched in sweat and guilt.

She stared at the ceiling in the dark, heart pounding.

The woman in Jared's room giggled again, breathless. She whispered something sweet, probably kissed him.

Lena felt something bitter rise in her chest.

Jealousy.

She wasn't supposed to want him. She hated the way he flirted. Hated his arrogance. Hated that he knew exactly how good he was in bed and didn't care who knew it.

But tonight... tonight she didn't hate it at all.

She stared at the wall between their rooms for a long time.

And somewhere, deep in her chest, a quiet, dangerous question stirred:

*What would it be like if it were me?*

---

**Chapter Four: Just a Massage**

The next morning, Lena moved through the apartment like a ghost.

Her skin still tingled in places she refused to think about. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep, but her mind wouldn't quiet down. Every time she blinked, she could hear it again: the moans, the slaps, Jared's voice gruff and in control.

Alex had already left for work when she finally emerged from the bedroom. She'd thrown on a long sweatshirt--no bra underneath--and a pair of thin cotton shorts. Casual. Comfortable. But as she walked into the kitchen and saw Jared sprawled shirtless on the couch, every nerve in her body snapped to attention.

He looked like sin with bedhead--one arm stretched behind his head, abs on full display, phone in hand, a mug of coffee balanced on his chest. He looked up when she entered, and the smile that curled across his lips made her stomach twist.

"Morning," he said, voice still thick with sleep.

She avoided his eyes. "Morning."

"Sleep okay?"

Lena shot him a quick glance. Was that a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth?

"Fine," she said too quickly, reaching for a coffee cup from the cupboard.

"I slept great," Jared continued casually. "Was a *really* good night."

She nearly dropped the cup.

He knew.

Of course he knew. Bastard.

Lena poured coffee with shaking hands. She refused to let her eyes drift to his chest, but she could *feel* him watching her. Like he could see straight through the thin fabric of her clothes. Straight into her thoughts.

She took a sip and walked to the couch, sitting down at the far edge, legs tucked up, trying to act normal.

Jared stretched again, letting his muscles shift slowly, deliberately. "You're quiet this morning."

"Just tired," she mumbled.

He leaned his head back against the cushion and studied her with lazy amusement. "You look tense."

"I'm not."

"You are," he insisted, shifting to face her a little more. "You've got that stiff shoulder thing going on. Same way you looked after that week the kids had a lice scare."

She stared at him. "You remember that?"

He grinned. "I notice things."

Her heart skipped. She looked away, took another sip of coffee, and tried to breathe normally.

"Come here," he said suddenly.

"What?"

He patted the space beside him. "C'mere. I'll fix your shoulders."

"I'm fine," she said, already knowing she was going to lose this.

He chuckled. "You're terrible at pretending. Come on, I'm good with my hands."

She opened her mouth to snap something back--but her tongue betrayed her. It was like her body was ahead of her logic. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid closer.

"Turn around," he said.

She swallowed and did.

Jared's hands landed on her shoulders with practiced confidence. Warm. Strong. Firm.

And for a moment, nothing else existed.

He kneaded her shoulders, thumbs digging into tight knots, palms gliding down her upper back. She exhaled without meaning to, her body relaxing under his touch in spite of herself.

"God," she murmured. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

He leaned close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "You'd be surprised what I know how to do."

Lena's spine stiffened.

Jared laughed low in his chest. "You really are tense."

She tried to pull away, but his hands slid to her waist, gently guiding her back. "Easy. Just a massage. Unless you want more."

She turned her head sharply to glare at him, but her face was inches from his. His eyes flicked to her lips, then slowly back to her eyes.

"I'm joking," he whispered.

"No you're not," she whispered back, breath shaky.

He didn't move. His hands were still resting lightly on her waist, thumbs grazing the hem of her shirt.

"You listened last night," he said softly.

She froze.

He smiled, not smug--almost darkly curious. "Did you like it?"

"I wasn't trying to--" she began, panicked.

"But you did," he cut in. "You stayed. You heard every sound. Every word."

She didn't speak. Her pulse was thundering.

His voice dropped, a whisper of gravel. "And then you touched yourself."

She gasped, furious at him, furious at herself for blushing so hard.

"You're disgusting," she hissed.

"And you're wet," he said calmly.

She stood up too fast, nearly spilling her coffee. "Go to hell."

He leaned back on the couch, watching her walk away. "You're welcome for the massage."

Her knees felt like jelly as she shut herself in her room, pressing her back against the door, heart racing, breath unsteady.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to slap him.

She wanted to feel those hands on her again.

And the worst part? She knew this was only the beginning.

---

**Chapter Five: Hold On Tight**

Lena stared down at her dead car like it had betrayed her. She turned the key one more time out of desperation, and the engine let out a wheeze before falling silent. Useless. Her fingers tapped the wheel, her leg bounced, and she cursed under her breath.

Alex was at work. Again. She already knew the answer before she texted.

**Lena:** *Car won't start. Can you come get me?*

**Alex:** *Sorry babe. Crazy day. Can't leave right now. Maybe call a ride?*

She could already picture him at his desk, earbuds in, barely glancing at the message. Not malicious. Just... distant.

She hesitated only a second longer before pulling up Jared's contact.

**Lena:** *Hey. My car died. I need a ride.*

**Jared:** *Where are you? On my way.*

Fifteen minutes later, the throaty purr of a motorcycle engine echoed through the lot. Lena looked up just as the bike rolled to a stop in front of her. He swung his leg off, tugged off his helmet, and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Need a knight in leather armor?" he asked, smirking.

She crossed her arms. "I didn't know you had a *bike*."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, handing her a spare helmet. "Hop on."

She hesitated.

"Unless you'd rather sit here waiting for Prince Charming," he added.

She shot him a look but stepped forward and swung a leg over. He adjusted her helmet, fingers grazing her chin as he fastened the strap.

"Ever been on one before?" he asked.

"No."

"Then hold tight."

She wrapped her arms around him tentatively.

"Tighter," he said, glancing back with a grin. "Don't want you flying off when I really open her up."

She rolled her eyes but pressed herself closer. Her hands rested on his waist, warm under her fingers. His body was solid--every breath expanded against her chest. She could feel everything through her thin shirt. Heat radiated off him like a furnace.

And then he took off.

The bike leapt forward and the world turned to motion. The vibration between her legs, the way his body shifted under her hands with every turn, the rush of air--everything blended into a heady blur. Her arms tightened. Her hands crept lower. She told herself it was for balance.

But balance had nothing to do with it.

She felt his abs contract under her palms. She felt the way his hips moved, powerful and fluid, each turn smooth like he knew the road by heart.

Her thighs clamped tighter around his. Her fingers slid under the hem of his shirt. She didn't mean to. She just... wanted to feel more.

And he let her.

He didn't flinch. Didn't question it. If anything, his back arched just slightly, like he was offering more of himself.

By the time he pulled into their lot, Lena was flushed, trembling, and soaking wet.

Jared kicked the stand down, cut the engine, and turned just enough to look at her over his shoulder.

"You good?" he asked, his voice low and rough from wind and heat.

She swallowed. "Yeah."

"You sure? You were holding me like your life depended on it."

She tried to play it off. "It's my first time on a bike."

"Mmm," he hummed. "First time's always the wildest."

He stepped off and offered his hand to help her down. She hesitated--then took it. When she slid off the seat, her body brushed against his. Her breath caught.

She stepped back, heart thudding. "Thanks for the ride."

He stared at her, eyes heavy with something darker.

"Anytime," he said. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"I wasn't."

"You were. You were rubbing your hands all over me."

"I was trying not to fall."

"You were moaning."

"I was not."

He stepped toward her slowly, backing her against the side of the building. His body didn't touch hers--but it was close enough that she could smell him. Leather, sweat, and something deep and male.

"Your thighs were tight around mine the whole ride," he murmured. "And your hands... kept drifting lower. You weren't scared. You were turned on."

"I have a boyfriend," she whispered.

He leaned close enough that their noses almost touched.

"I'm not the one you need to remind."

She stared up at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling too fast. His hand lifted--fingertips brushing her hip--but he didn't push further. Just that single, maddening contact.

"Tell me you didn't like it," he said, voice like smoke. "And I'll back off."

She didn't speak.

He waited.

And then--he smirked.

"Thought so."

He turned and walked up the stairs without looking back, his helmet swinging from one hand.

Lena stayed there, pressed against the wall, legs trembling, heart pounding, skin burning.

And all she could think about was how close she'd been.

To something dangerous.

To something *real*.

---

**Chapter Six: Dance With the Devil**

Lena didn't usually dress like this.

She stood in front of the mirror, tugging the black silk top lower across her chest. It dipped daringly between her breasts, clinging to her curves and showing more skin than Alex had ever complimented. Her jeans hugged her hips tightly, and the heels made her legs look unfairly long.

She should've changed. Should've gone with something safer. Simpler. But when she thought of Jared seeing her tonight, when she imagined his expression, she didn't want safe.

She wanted dangerous.

Alex whistled when she stepped out of the bedroom. "Wow. You trying to make people stare tonight?"

Lena smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. "Just you."

But Jared was waiting by the door, arms crossed, dark shirt clinging to his chest, and when his eyes met hers, something unspoken passed between them. His gaze dropped to her neckline, slowly, and lingered.

He didn't say a word.

He didn't have to.

---

The bar was packed.

Bodies swayed to pulsing bass, lights flickered across slick skin and tight clothes, and heat filled the air with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and sweat.

Alex was three drinks in before they even found a booth.

Lena, for her part, barely touched hers. She didn't need liquor. The adrenaline running through her veins was already intoxicating. Especially when Jared slid into the booth across from her, legs spread, watching her with a calm, unreadable expression.

And she noticed.

So did everyone else.

Three different guys approached her in the first twenty minutes. One offered to buy her a drink, another asked to dance, and the last lingered too long, eyes glued to her chest as he leaned on the edge of the table.

Jared didn't say anything--at first.

But when the third guy reached out and touched her arm, Jared stood up.

Tall. Broad. Silent.

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.

The guy looked up at him, saw something in Jared's eyes, and backed off immediately, muttering something before disappearing into the crowd.

Lena blinked, stunned. "That was... dramatic."

"He was a creep," Jared said, sliding back into the booth.

Alex laughed drunkenly. "Dude's got protector vibes," he slurred, sipping his fourth beer. "My girl's safe with this guy around, huh?"

Lena met Jared's gaze.

His eyes didn't leave hers. "You have no idea."

---

An hour later, Alex was slouched in the booth, barely awake, muttering about food and yawning between sips of water.

"I wanna dance," Lena said, standing. "Come with me."

Alex shook his head. "Too dizzy. You go."

She hesitated--but then Jared stood, offering his hand. "I'll take her."

Alex waved them off with a smile. "Have fun."

Lena placed her hand in Jared's.

The moment their fingers touched, her whole body tightened.

The dance floor swallowed them instantly--pulsing lights, bodies pressed close, the bass vibrating through their bones. Jared pulled her in, one hand resting on her lower back, the other guiding her hip.

They started slow. Casual.

But not for long.

The music changed--something with heat and rhythm--and Lena let go. She moved against him, body rolling, hips circling, her hands sliding up his chest.

He didn't speak.

He just moved with her. Matched her. Controlled her.

His thigh slid between hers, and her body reacted before her brain caught up. She ground down--barely, softly, experimentally.

He rewarded her with a low sound in his throat.

His hand slid lower. Possessive. Heavy. Fingers splayed on her ass.

Lena gasped.

"Too much?" he murmured into her ear, breath hot.

She didn't answer. She just pressed closer.

They danced like no one else existed. Like the air was made of friction. Her head dropped back at one point, exposing her neck, and Jared leaned in like he might bite her.

"You're playing with fire," he whispered against her skin.

"So put it out," she whispered back, breathless.

His hand slid under the hem of her shirt, fingers grazing the warm skin just above her jeans.

She was shaking.

She didn't care.

Her hips met his, slow and grinding. The thin denim between them did nothing to hide what was happening.

And then--Alex's voice.

"Hey!"

They froze.

Alex was stumbling toward them, smiling sloppily. "Time to head back. Can't feel my face."

Jared stepped back, letting her go.

Lena's heart thundered as she smoothed her shirt down, face flushed.

Jared just looked at her once more. That look. Like he'd already had her.

Like it was only a matter of time.

---

**Chapter Seven: No More Waiting**

They barely spoke on the ride home.

Alex passed out in the backseat, snoring lightly, head tilted awkwardly against the window. Lena sat in silence, her thighs still aching from the way she had danced--no, *grinded*--on Jared in front of half the bar. Her body still buzzed from the friction, from the way his thigh had slid between hers, from how her nipples had hardened under her thin top when his hands found her waist.

She couldn't stop remembering how wet she had been.

And how Jared had noticed.

Now, in the dark apartment, she helped guide Alex into the bedroom. Jared helped too--without a word--hoisting him by one arm like it was nothing. They dropped him onto the bed. He barely stirred.

Lena pulled off Alex's shoes. Jared tossed a blanket over him.

Then Jared looked at her.

She froze.

His eyes were hooded. Dark. Hungry.

"I should stay with him," she said softly.

"He's out cold," Jared replied. "Won't wake until noon."

She didn't move.

He didn't either.

The hallway stretched between them like a trap.

And then, without a word, he held out his hand.

Her heart thudded. Her body screamed *yes*.

But she shook her head. "Jared... I can't."

"You can," he said. "And you will."

She stared at him.

"I've let you play innocent long enough," he murmured. "But I know better. I've *felt* it."

"I haven't--"

"You've been soaking through your panties for weeks. I smelled it on you tonight. I felt it on my leg while you danced on my cock like you couldn't wait to ride it."

Her knees went weak.

Still, she shook her head again. "This isn't right."

He stepped forward. Slow. Controlled.

"It's not about right," he said. "It's about what you *want*."

His hand brushed her wrist. Her breath caught.

"I want to hear you say it," he whispered. "That you want me to take you. That you don't want soft, careful hands anymore. You want to be *fucked*."

Her breath trembled. "I..."

"You don't have to love it," he said, stepping behind her. "You just have to admit you're mine tonight."

And then his hands were on her hips, pulling her back against him.

She felt it.

His cock--hard, thick, straining through his jeans--pressing firmly against her ass. She gasped, and his hand slid up under her shirt, grazing the soft skin of her stomach.

"Tell me to stop," he growled.

She said nothing.

He kissed her neck--once, twice--then bit it just hard enough to make her moan.

"Thought so."

In a blur, he spun her, lifted her, and carried her to his room. She didn't resist. Her hands clung to his shoulders, her thighs tightened around his waist, and her heart beat like a war drum.

He kicked the door shut, laid her on the bed, and hovered over her.

"Still thinking?" he asked.

"I shouldn't," she breathed.

He leaned down, hand gripping her throat--not hard, just firm. "But your pussy's saying yes."

Then he kissed her--deep, dominating, with zero hesitation.

Her resistance cracked.

His hands tugged her shirt up roughly. She gasped as he yanked it over her head and reached behind to unclip her bra. Her breasts spilled free, nipples already hard.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, staring down. "This body. *Mine* tonight."

She whimpered. "You're going too fast."

"No," he growled. "I'm going exactly how fast you've needed."

He kissed down her chest, biting her nipples just enough to make her arch. Then his hands found her jeans and tugged them off--no ceremony, just hunger.

"Goddamn," he hissed when he saw the soaked spot in her panties. "You've been dripping since the bar."

She covered her face. "Don't say that--"

He yanked her panties down in one pull and buried his face between her thighs.

She screamed--*actually* screamed--when his tongue met her clit. He licked with purpose. Sucked with hunger. She writhed on the sheets, trying to push him away, then pull him closer. She didn't know which.

"Stop--Jared--too much--"

"Not even close," he growled.

He grabbed her thighs and pinned them open. Ate her like a man starved.

Her orgasm hit her like lightning--legs shaking, back arching, her cries muffled by her own hand.

And then he was on top of her.

Shirtless. Muscles tight. Cock thick and dripping.

She reached for it instinctively.

"Open your mouth," he ordered.

She obeyed.

He slid into her mouth and let out a rough moan. "Fuck, that's perfect."

She worked him slow, then fast. He grabbed her hair and guided her, groaning loudly.

"I'm going to ruin you," he said through clenched teeth. "You're never going to want soft again."

He pulled out suddenly, eyes dark with need. "Turn over."

She hesitated.

He grabbed her hips and flipped her with a snarl. "Now."

Her face hit the pillow. He dragged her ass up.

One hand on her hip.

One hand lining himself up.

Then--he slammed into her.

She screamed again.

"Jesus--Jared--"

"Take it," he growled. "You asked for this with every look, every smile, every time you bent over in front of me."

His thrusts were brutal. Deep. Unrelenting.

He gripped her hair, yanked her back.

"Tell me you're mine."

She whimpered.

He spanked her--hard.

"Say it."

"I'm yours," she gasped. "I'm--fuck--I'm yours."

He grabbed both wrists and pinned them behind her back with one hand. He leaned down to her ear, still fucking her like he meant to break her.

"You come when I say."

He reached between her thighs again. Rubbed her clit fast and rough.

She exploded seconds later--screaming his name, body convulsing.

And he kept going.

Flipped her again. Mounted her.

"Look at me," he growled. "I want to see your face when I come inside you."

She held his gaze, dazed and undone.

He thrust once, twice--

"Fuck--Lena--"

--and came deep inside her, hips jerking, breath ragged.

He stayed on top of her. Chest to chest. Sweat slicking their bodies.

Her hand brushed his cheek. "We crossed a line."

"No," he whispered. "We burned it down."

And she didn't stop him when he kissed her again.

Not soft.

Not sweet.

Just real.

---

**Chapter Eight: Ruined**

The room was still.

Only the sound of their shallow breathing filled the dark.

Jared was still inside her, body pressed tight against hers, his breath warm on her neck. Lena lay beneath him, trembling--used, full, and stunned. She should've been exhausted.

She should've gotten up. Left. Pretended it never happened.

But instead... her body stirred again.

He felt it. The way her hips shifted. The way she clenched around him as if begging for more.

"You're not done," he whispered in her ear. "Are you?"

She didn't answer.

His hand slid up her thigh again.

"I didn't think so."

He pulled out slowly, a string of slickness connecting them.

"Turn over. Now."

She obeyed on instinct, rolling to her hands and knees, her legs shaking.

He grabbed her hips, spread her wider.

"Look at this fucking pussy," he groaned, running a finger through her folds. "You're dripping. You came all over my cock and still want more."

"Jared--" she whispered, overwhelmed. "I don't know if I can--"

"You don't need to think," he growled. "You just need to take it."

He pushed in again from behind.

She screamed into the mattress.

His hips slapped into her ass, hard and fast, wet sounds filling the room. He grabbed her arms and pulled her back onto him with every thrust, using her like she was his.

"I want you to feel this in your spine tomorrow," he hissed.

"I--oh my god--Jared--yes--"

He leaned down, biting her shoulder. "You like being used like this?"

"Yes--fuck--yes--"

"Beg me."

"Please don't stop--I want all of it--I want you to ruin me again--"

He growled like an animal and pounded into her faster. Her knees slid apart, legs trembling, sweat soaking the sheets beneath her.

When she came again, it was hard--sudden. Her body locked, vision blurred, and her cry was hoarse, breathless.

He pulled out again, panting, gripping her hair. "On your back."

She collapsed onto her side, dazed.

"Lena."

She blinked up at him, lips parted, eyes glossy.

"On. Your. Back."

She rolled onto her back, legs spread.

He gripped both thighs and pushed them up, folding her in half, sliding into her deep and slow.

She moaned, louder this time.

"Too deep?"

"No," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "It's perfect."

"You've never been fucked like this."

She shook her head. "No one's ever... *felt* like this."

"You're mine now," he said, fucking her slowly, deeply. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she moaned. "Please--I want you to break me."

He grabbed her throat again. "Say it louder."

"I'M YOURS," she cried.

He slammed into her, gritting his teeth, body dripping with sweat. Her nails dug into his back, scratching deep.

And just when she thought she'd black out from the sensation--he pulled out, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her toward the bathroom.

"Where--?"

"Shower," he growled. "I'm not done with you yet."

---

Hot water blasted over them.

Jared shoved her against the cold tile wall, hoisted one of her legs over his arm, and slid into her again--rough and wet and perfect.

She cried out, water soaking her hair, her chest, her mouth.

He fucked her like it was war. One hand gripping her ass, the other braced against the wall.

The slap of their bodies echoed in the shower.

"You're gonna come again," he growled. "Hard."

"I can't--" she gasped, voice broken.

"Yes, you can."

He reached between them, rubbed her clit fast, firm, relentless.

Her eyes rolled back.

"Come for me, Lena. Do it. Scream for me."

She shook her head. "It's too much--Jared--I--"

And then it happened.

Her legs jerked violently. A high, sharp moan tore out of her throat.

And she *squirted*--hard. All over his cock, the tile, her own legs.

"Oh my *fuck*," Jared growled, eyes wild. "That's it. That's fucking it--"

Her body convulsed once.

Twice.

Then everything went dark.

---

He caught her before she fell.

Her eyes fluttered, breath ragged, body limp.

"Lena," he said quickly, cupping her cheek, lowering her gently to the floor of the shower. "Lena--look at me."

She blinked.

He turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her, carried her to his bed like she weighed nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

She looked up at him, dazed and still trembling. "I passed out."

He smiled, brushing the wet hair from her face. "You came so hard you blacked out. I told you I'd ruin you."

She let out a breathless laugh and curled into him, spent.

"I've never... I didn't know it could feel like that."

He kissed her forehead, arm wrapped around her waist. "That's because no one's ever fucked you properly."

He pulled the blanket over them.

And for the first time in her life, Lena didn't feel like a good girl.

She felt like *his*.

---

**Chapter Nine: Deeper**

The first thing Lena felt when she woke was soreness.

Everywhere.

Her thighs ached. Her neck ached. Her *throat* even ached a little.

The second thing she felt was heat--Jared's body still wrapped around hers, chest to her back, his morning erection pressed thick and warm against the curve of her ass.

"God," she muttered into the pillow.

"Mm. Morning," he rasped behind her, voice husky and rough with sleep. "You alive?"

"Barely."

"Same." His hand slid down her stomach lazily. "I'm surprised you didn't leave in the middle of the night."

She smiled. "Too sore to run."

He chuckled against her neck. "I warned you."

"You did not warn me I'd faint in the shower."

He laughed harder, rolling onto his back. "That was my favorite part."

She swatted his chest. "Don't you *dare* make fun of me."

"Oh, I'm not making fun of you," he said, tugging her onto him. "I'm thinking about making you do it again."

Her bare body pressed flush to his as she straddled his waist, skin sticky with heat and soft from the sheets. She smiled coyly and kissed the side of his throat.

"I kind of want to try something," she murmured.

His hand paused on her hip. "Oh?"

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes bright but shy. "I want to... take all of you. In my mouth."

Jared stared at her.

Then he smirked--slow, devilish, low.

"You want to deepthroat me?"

She nodded.

"I didn't think you could get sexier," he muttered. "But that just did it."

Lena bit her lip and looked down. "I've never done it. Not like that. But I want to try. With you."

He sat up slightly, his voice lower. "I'll help you."

She blinked.

He kissed her jaw. "We'll go slow. I'll tell you how to breathe. You'll surprise yourself."

She looked at him again--nervous, turned on, burning with anticipation.

He rolled onto his back, propped up against the headboard, and nodded at her. "Come here, pretty girl."

Lena slid down the bed, kissed her way down his chest, and settled between his legs. His cock was already hard--long, thick, proud.

She wrapped her hand around it and kissed the tip first, tongue circling the head.

He groaned. "Start slow. Get it nice and wet."

She obeyed, licking down the shaft, covering him in warm, slick attention. She wrapped her lips around the head and began bobbing, hand stroking the base as she worked him deeper.

"That's it," he murmured, one hand brushing her hair back. "You look so good like this. So hungry."

She moaned softly around him, making his hips twitch.

"Breathe through your nose. Don't rush. Let your throat relax."

She nodded slightly and took him in a little deeper. Her jaw stretched. She pulled back with a breath, drool glistening on her lips.

"Good," he said. "Keep going. You can take more. I know you can."

She went again. Deeper. Let her throat open more. Her eyes watered, but she didn't stop. Her hands gripped his thighs now, anchoring herself.

He groaned louder. "Fuck, Lena. That's it. Almost all of me."

She gagged gently, pulled back, took a breath--and dove again.

This time she *relaxed*. Her throat opened wider, and his cock slid deeper.

All the way in.

Her nose touched his stomach.

He let out a long, guttural moan. "Jesus *Christ*--you just took my whole cock. Holy shit."

She pulled back slowly, coughing a little, breathless and stunned.

"I did it," she whispered, surprised.

He stared at her like she was divine. "You *fucking* did. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She smiled, glowing with pride. "You liked that?"

"You have *no idea*."

She grinned wickedly. "Want me to do it again?"

He didn't answer.

He just grabbed her hair.

She opened wide, slid down again--confident now, practiced, *needy*. She took him in all the way, held there for a second while he gasped, then pulled back, drool spilling down her chin.

He was panting.

"You're gonna make me come," he growled. "You want that? Want it down your throat?"

She moaned and nodded, mouth full of him.

"Then take it," he hissed. "Just like that. Don't stop--fuck, *don't stop*--"

He exploded down her throat with a loud, broken groan, hips jerking once, twice. She swallowed all of it, never breaking eye contact.

She licked him clean, breathing heavy.

Jared looked completely *wrecked*.

He pulled her up into his arms, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "You're gonna *kill* me."

She laughed softly and curled up on his chest.

And for the first time, she didn't feel guilt.

She felt power.

---

**Chapter Ten: The Bad Girl Wakes**

Something in Lena had changed.

It wasn't just lust. It wasn't even just Jared.

It was *her*.

She no longer blushed when she thought about what they'd done. She *craved* it. She touched herself in the shower thinking about his voice in her ear. She wore tighter clothes. Let her bra straps show. She caught Jared watching her constantly--and she watched him back.

She wasn't ashamed anymore.

She was a *bad girl now*.

And God help her, she liked it.

---

That Saturday morning, the three of them were in the kitchen.

Lena stood at the counter pouring coffee while Alex sat on the couch, half-watching the news. Jared entered shirtless, sweatpants slung low, towel around his neck. He'd just come back from a run, body glistening with sweat, his abs flexing with every breath.

She looked at him once.

And her thighs clenched.

He walked behind her--closely.

Too closely.

She poured the coffee slowly, pretending not to notice, but her breath caught when his hand brushed her lower back. Barely a touch. Then his palm slid lower, resting firmly on her ass for just a second.

Alex called out from the couch, "Babe, where's the sugar?"

"In the cabinet!" she replied, trying to steady her voice.

Jared's lips brushed the back of her neck. Just once.

She froze.

He whispered, low and smug, "No panties this morning?"

She swallowed hard.

"No," she whispered back.

He grinned against her skin and stepped away, taking a sip of water like nothing happened.

She stood there, coffee forgotten, heart pounding.

This was dangerous.

This was *delicious*.

---

Later that afternoon, they were all in the living room. Alex had passed out on the couch after two beers and a late lunch, his arm dangling off the side, soft snores filling the room.

Lena sat in the armchair across from him. Jared came in and sat on the floor between her legs--*facing* the couch.

She stared at him, confused.

He looked up at her and smirked.

Then he reached under the blanket draped over her legs.

Her mouth fell open silently.

He slid his hand slowly up her bare thigh, pushing her oversized t-shirt higher. She bit her lip, legs shifting, heart hammering.

His fingers reached the inside of her panties and found her soaked.

He didn't look away from Alex.

"You're already this wet?" he whispered, voice calm. "You *want* to get caught, don't you?"

She shook her head, eyes wide, but her hips rolled into his hand.

He rubbed her slowly, firmly, every nerve in her body lighting up.

"Jared," she hissed softly, "stop--he's right *there*--"

"And asleep."

He pulled her panties aside.

Two fingers slid into her--deep.

She gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth.

He looked up at her, grinning, his hand moving in slow, curling strokes.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured. "Still gripping me like you need more."

She gripped the armrests, eyes locked on the back of Alex's head.

"God, I can't--he's--"

"Say you don't care."

"I *do* care--"

"Say it anyway."

"I--I don't care," she whispered.

He leaned up and kissed her.

Long. Deep. Dirty.

Her fingers knotted in his hair as she moaned into his mouth.

And then--he pulled her hand down.

To *him*.

She hesitated.

He was hard.

Very hard.

He pushed her fingers under the waistband of his sweats and wrapped them around his cock.

She nearly whimpered.

"You gonna stroke me like a good girl?" he whispered.

She began to move her hand, slow at first, her breath shaky.

Alex shifted on the couch.

They froze.

He just mumbled and rolled over.

Lena's hand squeezed Jared tighter.

"Fuck," he hissed. "That's it. Just like that."

She stroked him with more confidence, her thighs spread wide, soaking through her panties, his fingers still inside her.

They were both panting quietly, *touching each other*, *watching her boyfriend sleep*--and neither of them wanted to stop.

"Faster," Jared whispered.

She obeyed.

"Your hand feels so good. But you know what I really want?"

She looked at him, dazed, trembling.

"What?"

"I want to bend you over the arm of this chair while he sleeps three feet away. I want to fuck you slow and deep while you bite your lip to stay quiet. I want to feel you come while you stare at his face."

Her orgasm ripped through her without warning. Silent. Shuddering. Her hand clenched around him as she came, and he hissed again.

"Jesus," he groaned. "I'm gonna fucking come--"

She yanked her hand away just in time.

His body tensed--then relaxed.

He looked up at her.

They both grinned.

Her face flushed, soaked in sweat and guilt and something darker.

She looked toward the couch.

Still asleep.

Still *clueless*.

And for the first time... she didn't feel bad.

She felt *alive*.

---

**Chapter Eleven: Quick and Dangerous**

It started in the hallway.

Alex was in the shower.

The water was running loud--steady, predictable. The door steamed at the edges. Lena passed by with a laundry basket in her hands, nothing unusual.

Except Jared was there. Leaning against the wall. Watching her.

His eyes dropped to her legs. The tiny cotton shorts. The curve of her ass.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't have to.

She stopped walking.

Their eyes locked.

And then she dropped the laundry basket and turned to him.

"Now?" she whispered.

Jared stepped forward and backed her against the wall without a word.

His mouth crashed onto hers--hot, open, hungry. She melted instantly, her fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"You sure?" he growled into her mouth.

"He's in the shower," she breathed. "You have five minutes."

He grinned like a devil. "That's all I need."

His hand was under her shorts before she could take another breath. Two fingers slipped inside, and she gasped into his mouth.

"Still wet?" he murmured.

"Always," she moaned.

"Good."

He reached down with his other hand and undid his zipper.

Lena glanced down and saw his cock--hard, thick, already leaking.

"I'm not coming on the carpet," he warned, dragging her shorts down one-handed. "You tell me now--inside or nowhere."

She met his eyes.

"Inside," she whispered. "I want it *all*."

His eyes flared.

"Good girl."

He hooked one of her legs around his waist, lined himself up, and shoved into her in one rough, glorious thrust.

She cried out--loudly.

He slapped his hand over her mouth. "Quiet," he hissed. "Unless you want him to hear you getting fucked against the wall."

She nodded, wide-eyed, panting against his palm.

He fucked her hard. Fast. Deep.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed faintly against the painted walls.

"You're so fucking tight," he growled. "Like this pussy was made for me."

She moaned behind his hand.

"Yeah? You like being taken like this? Bent open while your boyfriend showers ten feet away?"

She clenched around him--hard.

He grinned.

"God, you *love* it. You're soaking me, Lena. Jesus."

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she fought to stay upright. He bent lower, biting her neck, thrusting faster now.

She was close. Too close.

"Don't stop--please--"

"You want me to come inside this pretty little cunt?" he growled in her ear.

"Yes," she gasped. "Please--fill me--*now*--"

That did it.

He slammed into her one last time and came with a deep, savage groan, his cock pulsing inside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and came with him, her body convulsing, legs trembling, mouth open in a silent scream.

He held her up against the wall, buried deep, both of them dripping in sweat and soaked in sin.

The water in the bathroom was still running.

Lena kissed his jaw, breathless. "Still think you only needed five minutes?"

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down her thighs, and grinned.

"I think I need another five."

---

**Chapter Twelve: Every Hole is Yours**

Alex stood in the bedroom, already dressed for work.

Lena sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in her robe, skin still flushed from the night before--but not from him.

"You're really not in the mood?" he asked softly.

She looked at him with a practiced apology. "I'm just... not feeling like myself lately."

His shoulders sagged. "Right."

He left without another word.

The door shut.

And Lena didn't move for a moment. Her heart was pounding--not with guilt.

With need.

With *anticipation*.

Behind her, the bedroom door creaked open again. But it wasn't Alex.

It was *him*.

Jared.

Barefoot, sweatpants slung low, nothing else. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes devouring her robe.

"Tell me," he said, voice low. "When you turned him down just now... were you already dripping for me?"

She swallowed.

"Be honest, Lena."

Her thighs pressed together. "Yes."

He walked forward slowly, like a wolf circling its prey.

"You really are a dirty girl now."

She stood to face him, chest rising, lips parted.

"I want to try something," she whispered.

"Oh?" He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "What filthy thing lives in that pretty little head?"

She bit her lip. "I want you in my ass."

He blinked--then grinned like the devil. "You want me to fuck your ass?"

She nodded.

He stepped behind her, one arm sliding around her waist, lips to her ear.

"You want me to stretch you open, fill your tight little hole... while you moan into my sheets?"

"Please."

"You've got no idea how hard you just made me."

---

Jared took his time.

He laid her on his bed, face down, hips lifted slightly with a pillow. The robe was gone. Her skin was glowing. Her pussy already wet.

He spread her cheeks gently, groaning low.

"Look at this. Look how fucking *perfect* you are back here."

He knelt, spat between her cheeks, and massaged the slickness with one thumb.

She gasped at the first contact.

"I'm gonna use one finger first," he murmured. "Nice and slow. Let me in, baby."

His slick finger circled her tightest point, then eased inside slowly. She whimpered, but didn't pull away.

"That's it. Take it. You trust me?"

"Yes..."

"Say it."

"I trust you, Jared."

"Then relax and let me open you."

He worked her slowly, gently adding a second finger as she adjusted.

"God, you're tight," he murmured. "So fucking good. I could come just from watching your hole swallow my fingers."

She moaned into the sheets.

He kissed her back, between her shoulders. "You ready for more?"

"Yes. Please."

He lubed himself generously, lined up behind her, his hands firm on her hips.

"You sure?" he whispered.

She nodded, breath shaking. "I want to feel all of you."

"Good girl."

He pressed in slowly.

She whimpered, face buried in the pillow, fists clenched.

"Relax," he said. "Breathe. You're doing so fucking well."

He inched in--halfway--then paused.

"You're already squeezing me like a vice," he growled. "Tighter than your pussy. Fuck."

She moaned louder.

Then he pushed all the way in.

She gasped. "Oh my *God*--"

"That's it," he groaned. "You've got me. All of me. In your ass."

He didn't move for a moment--just leaned over her, one hand gripping her shoulder.

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you love having my cock in your ass."

"I love it," she gasped. "It feels *wrong*--but it feels *so good*."

"That's because you're mine," he growled. "Every hole. Every inch. Mine."

He began to move--slow at first, dragging against her tight walls.

Then harder.

Deeper.

"Listen to those noises," he growled. "You're fucking moaning for it. You *love* getting used."

"I do," she cried. "Don't stop."

He slammed into her harder.

Then reached into the drawer again.

She looked back, dazed.

"Wait--what's that?"

He smirked. "You'll see."

He slicked a small, slim dildo with lube and brought it to her pussy.

"No--Jared--" she gasped.

"You can take it," he said, rubbing it against her soaked entrance. "You're begging for it."

He pushed it in slowly.

Lena's eyes *rolled* back.

"*Holy fuck*."

"You're full now," he growled, pounding into her harder. "Cock in your ass. Toy in your pussy. Just like the dirty little girl you are."

"Jared--oh my *god*--I can't--"

"You *can*. And you're gonna come for me like that. Stuffed. Owned."

His hands gripped her waist hard as he thrust, the bed slamming into the wall.

She couldn't speak.

Couldn't think.

She just *felt*.

And then--*it hit her*.

Her whole body tensed, shook violently, and she *screamed*.

Squirted.

Everywhere.

"FUCK," Jared roared. "You just soaked my bed!"

He kept going--driving into her with punishing force until he exploded deep inside her ass, panting, groaning, body trembling above her.

They collapsed together.

Both breathless.

Wet.

Ruined.

Lena laughed into the sheets. "We're... monsters."

Jared kissed her cheek. "You're my favorite kind."

She turned to face him, face flushed. "I can't believe I came *like that*."

"I *can*," he said smugly. "I told you I'd break you."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around him.

"Break me again tomorrow?"

He grinned, eyes wicked. "Just wait until I bring out the plug."

---

**Chapter Thirteen: Bent at the Gym**

"You're going to the gym?" Alex asked from the couch, glancing up from his laptop.

Lena slipped her sneakers on and tied the laces slowly. "Just for a little bit. Jared invited me to come watch him train. I won't be long."

Alex blinked. "Since when do you like watching workouts?"

She smiled sweetly. "Since I realized he sweats with his shirt off."

He laughed, shook his head. "Alright. Text me when you're coming back."

She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"Sure, babe."

She turned and left.

She didn't look back.

---

By the time she got to the gym, her heart was pounding. Not from nerves--but from *need*.

Jared was already there, shirtless, sweat glistening across his chest and shoulders as he slammed a barbell onto the rack. The clink of plates echoed through the mostly-empty building. It was late. Quiet. Just a few scattered grunts from men focused on their reps.

He looked up when she entered.

His eyes burned through her.

"You wore that for me?" he asked, walking toward her.

She nodded. A black hoodie, no bra. Short skirt, sneakers, nothing underneath.

"I thought you might need some motivation," she said sweetly.

He didn't smile.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway, past the machines, past the squat rack--into the locker room.

Men's locker room. Empty. Silent.

The second the door shut behind them, he spun her, slammed her against the lockers, and growled in her ear.

"You came here with nothing under that skirt just so I could fuck you while your boyfriend waits at home?"

"Yes," she whispered, breathless.

"You're such a filthy little thing now."

"I'm *yours*," she said, eyes wide, needy. "Please use me."

He dropped to his knees and yanked her skirt up, groaning when he saw how wet she already was.

"No panties," he said, dragging his tongue between her thighs. "God, you're *dripping*."

"Because of you," she whimpered.

"You're so far gone," he growled, standing again. "You *like* being my slut. You like cheating. You like knowing your boyfriend's probably jerking off at home while I stretch you open in a locker room."

She gasped. "Yes. I love it."

He pushed her against the bench and bent her over it.

"Hands on the seat," he ordered. "Legs wide. Don't move."

She obeyed instantly.

He unzipped, pulled his cock out, and slid the head through her folds.

"So fucking wet. You *want* to be used."

"Yes--please--use me."

"Say what you are."

"I'm your bad girl. I'm your filthy cheating slut. I need your cock."

He grabbed her by the throat and slammed into her in one brutal thrust.

She screamed.

He covered her mouth.

"Quiet. Or someone's gonna walk in and see me ruining you."

He pounded her, hand still around her throat, her body shaking under his grip.

"Feel that?" he growled. "That's not your boyfriend. That's *me*. Filling every inch. Owning this pussy."

"Yes--yes--Jared--"

"You're mine now," he snarled. "I could bend you over in front of him and you'd beg for more."

"I would," she whimpered. "I fucking would."

He pulled out and spun her around, lifted her onto the bench. Her legs spread for him instantly.

"Look at this messy little pussy," he muttered, slapping his cock against her clit. "You squirted on my bed, you came on my cock, and now you're going to take every inch like a good little slut while I fuck the moans out of you."

"Do it," she panted. "Please--*fuck me rough*."

He slammed into her again, both hands gripping her thighs.

Hard. Deep. *Fast*.

She was moaning shamelessly now, nails digging into the bench.

He leaned down, bit her neck. "When I say come, you come."

She nodded.

He reached between them and rubbed her clit--fast, brutal, dirty.

"You're gonna come for me. Now."

Her eyes rolled back.

She exploded.

Screaming.

Soaking the bench.

He kept fucking her through it, slamming into her until he snarled, "Where do you want it?"

"Inside," she begged. "Fill me--now--*please*--"

He groaned, shoved deep, and spilled inside her.

They collapsed together, breathless, sweaty, ruined.

Lena looked up, still trembling.

"I don't know who I am anymore," she whispered.

He kissed her neck.

"You're *mine*. That's all you need to know."

---

She needs this.

She *needs Jared*.

And she doesn't care who sees.

---

**Chapter Fourteen: Owned**

Her phone buzzed.

**Alex:** *Running late. Don't wait up. Love you.*

Lena stared at the screen, thumb hovering. She didn't reply.

She didn't need to.

Jared was already behind her. Shirtless, cock hard, sweatpants tugged low. His fingers slid under her hoodie and palmed her bare breast.

"No bra," he murmured. "You were waiting for me."

"I'm always waiting for you," she whispered.

"Then bend over."

She did--without hesitation.

He pulled her skirt up over her hips and groaned at the sight.

"No panties either," he muttered. "You *are* mine."

"Yes," she breathed. "All yours. Always."

He pushed her face down into the mattress, kicked her legs apart, and slid his cock between her soaking folds. Just teasing. Just gliding through the slick mess.

"You feel that?" he growled. "This pussy's dripping before I even touch it."

"Because I *need* it."

"You need me to fuck you?"

"No," she panted. "I need you to *ruin* me."

That broke him.

Jared slammed into her in one brutal thrust, and Lena screamed into the sheets.

"*Fuck*, yes--God yes--don't hold back," she sobbed.

He gripped her hips like a man starved and fucked her hard--*loud*, wet, heavy slaps echoing through the room. His cock punched deep with every thrust, dragging cries out of her throat with every bounce of her ass against him.

"You like being used like this?" he growled.

"Yes!"

"You want me to fuck you like a dirty little whore?"

"Yes--*I am* one."

"You like cheating on him?"

"I *fucking love it*," she gasped. "He could never do this. He's soft. He's careful."

"And what am I?"

"You're what I *need*. Rough. *Real*."

He laughed, cruel and dark. "That's right. I'm the one who owns this pussy now."

He reached forward, grabbed her hair, yanked her head back.

"You're gonna come with me deep inside you, aren't you?"

"Yes--*please*--I want you to come in me--I want it *every day*--"

"You hear that?" he hissed. "You want my cum in you every *fucking* day."

"I *need* it."

He flipped her over suddenly, pulled her legs over his shoulders, and thrust into her hard and deep--folding her in half. Her tits bounced wildly with every brutal thrust.

"You're perfect like this," he groaned. "Pinned down. Fucked full. Begging for it."

"Don't stop," she gasped. "Don't you *dare* stop--"

"You love being fucked like this while your boyfriend's gone?"

"Yes. I don't care anymore. *Let him walk in.* I want him to see it."

As if summoned--

The door opened.

Footsteps.

Then--

"Lena?"

It was Alex.

Home early.

Lena didn't flinch.

She didn't scream. She didn't stop.

She wrapped her legs tighter around Jared's waist, moaning *louder*.

Alex stood frozen in the doorway--watching the girl he loved getting pounded into the mattress.

"Lena--what the *fuck*--"

She turned her head, met his eyes--sweaty, flushed, legs spread wide around Jared's cock.

"I needed this," she moaned.

"Get the *fuck* off him!"

"No," she said. "You don't get it."

Jared looked over his shoulder, still thrusting. "She *wants* this, man. Every inch. Every day."

"I've never come like this in my life," Lena gasped. "You're sweet, Alex. But you're not *him*."

She reached up, cupped Jared's face, and kissed him--deep, tongue and teeth.

Alex stared--silent, broken.

"I want him to *own* me," she whispered when she pulled back. "I want to be his. Used. Full of him every morning. Every night."

Jared slammed in harder, rougher, faster.

Her eyes rolled back.

"You gonna come for me?" he growled.

"I'm gonna *fucking squirt*--"

"Then do it. Make him *watch*."

Her body locked, and she *screamed*.

She squirted hard--soaking Jared, the sheets, the headboard. It sprayed up his stomach as she collapsed, twitching violently, sobbing from pleasure.

"God *damn*," Jared snarled. "You made a fucking mess for him."

And then--he came.

He shoved deep and emptied himself inside her, hips jerking, groaning with satisfaction.

They stayed like that.

Lena breathless, wrecked.

Jared buried deep, grinning.

Alex turned and walked out.

No words.

Just the sound of the door slamming behind him.

Jared kissed her shoulder, still inside.

"Now you're mine," he whispered.

She nodded.

And smiled.

---

**Chapter Fifteen: Claimed Forever**

The apartment was quiet. Alex was gone.

Really gone.

His keys were gone from the hook. His drawer emptied. No goodbye note, no fight, no guilt trip. Just absence.

Lena stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Jared's old gym tanks, too big on her and loose enough to show the curve of one bare breast. Her hair was messy, her thighs still sticky from the night before.

She stared at the empty hook for a long time.

"You okay?" Jared's voice came from behind her.

She turned slowly. He was leaning against the doorframe, towel slung over one shoulder, freshly out of the shower, water still clinging to his abs.

"I should feel worse," she said softly. "I don't."

Jared raised an eyebrow. "Why would you?"

She shrugged. "Because he was good to me. Boring. Safe. Sweet. And I threw it all away. For you."

Jared stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Not for me. For yourself."

She rested her head back on his chest. "Maybe."

"Definitely."

They stood there in silence for a beat.

Then she whispered, almost too soft to hear: "You ruined me."

He grinned into her neck. "Good. I was trying to."

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, searching his face. "But now what? Now that I'm yours? Are you gonna get bored? Move on? Find some fresh little slut to break?"

He tilted her chin up. "You think I want anyone else after *this*? After you begged for my cum while your boyfriend watched you squirt? After you took every inch and still wanted more?"

She blushed, lips curling. "I did like that."

He leaned in. "No, baby. You *loved* it. You're perfect. Filthy. Beautiful. Mine. I will never get tired of you."

"Promise?"

"Swear it."

She smiled, eyes gleaming. "Good. Because now that I've had it this way? I don't want anything else. I want to be fucked like a bad girl every *day*."

He pulled her in tighter. "Then get ready. Because I'm never going to stop wrecking you."

She giggled, looking down. "Bet Alex never said *that*."

"Alex?" Jared scoffed. "That dude kissed like he was scared to breathe through his nose."

"He came from *cuddling*."

They both burst out laughing.

"No wonder you jumped on my cock like it was a fire escape during a flood."

"It *was*," she snorted.

He grabbed her ass suddenly and lifted her with a growl. "Come on, squirt gun. Shower time."

She squealed as he carried her into the bathroom.

---

**The Shower**

Steam fogged the glass instantly. The water was hot. So was the way Jared pinned her against the wall, lifted her leg, and slid two fingers inside her without warning.

She gasped, forehead pressed to the tile. "Already?"

"You said every day," he growled. "I'm holding you to it."

He kissed her neck, dragged his fingers out slowly, then shoved them back in. She was dripping already.

"Such a good little slut. Always wet. Always ready."

"Please fuck me," she moaned. "Rough. Hard. Just how I need it."

He didn't hesitate. Turned her around, bent her slightly, and thrust into her from behind in one brutal stroke.

She screamed. Loud. Echoing.

"You like being bent and taken like this?"

"Yes!"

"Say it. Say you're my cock-hungry little girl."

"I'm your cock-hungry little *slut*! Fuck me harder!"

He obliged. Every thrust was deep, sharp, wet. The slap of skin on skin, the rush of the water, her cries. She clawed the tile, toes curling.

"You're going to come like this," he grunted. "While I pound you under the water. While I fill you again."

"I'm already close," she whimpered.

"Good. Because I'm not stopping. Not even when you come. I want you to *squirt* again."

He reached around, thumb flicking her clit while he fucked her harder.

She screamed. Came violently. Legs shaking. Water mixing with her juices.

He didn't stop.

"One more. You can give me another."

"Jared--*please*--"

"You can do it. Be my good girl. Come again."

He changed the angle, pinned her tighter, fucked her so hard she could barely breathe.

Then--it happened.

She exploded. Again. And again. Her thighs quivered, her hands slipped against the tile, and a high-pitched cry ripped from her throat.

She squirted *hard*.

It sprayed across his thighs, splashing down to the floor like a mini geyser.

He laughed mid-thrust. "God *damn*, baby! You trying to drown me in here?"

She collapsed against the wall, face flushed and eyes dazed. "It's not my fault! You fucked the plumbing out of me."

He pulled out slowly, letting his cock slap against her dripping pussy. "We need a warning label for this cooch. *Caution: may cause flooding*."

She giggled breathlessly. "I'm gonna need a lifeguard certification at this rate."

He grinned, spun her around, and kissed her hard. "Then drown with me."

He lifted her again, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"One more for the road," he growled.

He thrust inside her, deep and hard, and she moaned into his mouth.

"Jared!"

"Yeah?"

"If I squirt again, you're buying new towels."

"Deal. But I get to wring them out first."

She laughed so hard she nearly lost her balance--and then screamed again as he fucked her straight through it.

He came hard, deep, holding her tight as her body shook once more.

They stayed tangled up under the water, wet and breathless.

Then she leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered, "Seriously... we *do* need new towels."

He laughed into her hair.

"Worth it."

**The End.**