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When she leaves her door unlocked, she expects only the music and the steam of her shower to fill the empty house. But the front door opens, and her husband’s sudden, silent presence in the bathroom doorway promises a confrontation—until he grabs her, his hunger turning a morning routine into a raw, mirrored claiming.
The front door opens, a sound that shouldn't exist. Elena freezes, towel clutched to her chest, water dripping down her spine. Lucas fills the hallway, his dark eyes not on her face but on the shape o
His hands were on her again before her legs could steady, turning her, lifting her. He carried her from the bathroom not like a bride, but like a prize, his stride purposeful. The hallway mirror flash