Lust Behind Closed Doors
Behind every locked door lies a secret... For Elena, it's the hunger she hides from her cold and distant husband. For Adrian, it's the forbidden desire he feels for the one woman he should never touch-his stepmother.
What begins as stolen glances and teasing remarks quickly spirals into something dangerous. Behind closed doors, guilt turns into obsession, lust turns into fire, and the line between right and wrong disappears.
But how long can they keep their dirty secret before it explodes, tearing the family apart?
A forbidden romance dripping with passion, danger, and irresistible temptation.
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Chapter 5
The mansion was too quiet.
Elena had spent the day scrubbing counters, rearranging bookshelves, folding already-folded clothes-anything to keep herself busy. Anything to avoid thinking about the kiss. About his hands pinning her to the wall. About the way her body burned every time he came too close.
But it was useless.
No matter how hard she tried, Adrian lingered in her thoughts like a shadow she couldn't escape. She hated herself for it. She hated the way her pulse spiked at the thought of him. She hated the way her thighs pressed together at night, seeking a relief she couldn't admit to.
By evening, she was exhausted, drained from fighting a battle she was losing inside her own skin.
She decided to soak in the bathtub. Hot water. Lavender oil. Silence. Maybe that would help.
Steam curled around the marble bathroom, fogging the mirror. Elena slid into the water, letting it envelop her, her head tipping back against the edge. She closed her eyes, willing herself to forget, if only for a few precious minutes.
But then-
A knock at the door.
Her eyes flew open. Panic seized her chest.
"Elena," Adrian's voice came, low and unhurried.
Her heart nearly stopped. She gripped the edge of the tub, water lapping at her skin. "Go away!" she snapped, too quickly, too desperately.
Silence. Then the soft click of the door handle.
The lock she thought she'd turned wasn't engaged.
The door swung open.
Adrian stepped inside, closing it behind him. He leaned casually against the door, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on her. His smirk was lazy, predatory.
Elena's breath caught. She sank lower in the tub, arms crossing over her chest. "Adrian-get out."
He didn't move. His gaze was molten, lingering on the steam rising around her, the sheen of water clinging to her skin.
"You're even more beautiful like this," he murmured, voice husky. "Relaxed. Vulnerable."
Her pulse thundered. "You have no respect," she whispered furiously. "Do you enjoy tormenting me?"
His smirk deepened. "I enjoy watching you squirm when all you really want is me."
Her breath stuttered. "You're wrong."
"Am I?"
He pushed off the door and advanced slowly. Each step echoed in the tiled room. Elena's chest heaved, her body betraying her as desire tangled with fear.
He crouched beside the tub, his arm braced against the rim, his face close enough that she could feel his breath. "Tell me to leave," he said softly. "Say the words like you mean them, and I'll walk out that door."
Her lips parted. The words were right there. But they caught in her throat.
His gaze searched hers, triumphant.
"Thought so," he murmured.
His fingers dipped into the water, tracing the surface, then brushing lightly against her knee. Elena jolted at the contact, her body on fire.
"Adrian," she whispered, torn between pleading and warning.
His hand slid higher, water rippling around them. His touch was deliberate, slow, teasing. Her legs trembled beneath the surface.
"You've been starving, haven't you?" His voice was low, rough. "Hungry for something he hasn't given you in months. I see it in your eyes. I feel it every time you breathe me in."
Her throat worked, but no denial came.
His hand grazed her thigh now, heat searing through water and flesh alike. Elena's resolve cracked. Her eyes fluttered shut, a broken moan slipping from her lips.
That sound undid him.
In a heartbeat, Adrian's mouth was on hers-hot, urgent, devouring. The kiss was wet and desperate, their lips crashing together with months of repressed hunger.
Elena clung to the edge of the tub, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His hand gripped her jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue demanding, claiming, leaving her breathless.
She gasped when his other hand slipped higher beneath the water, skimming the inside of her thigh.
"Adrian-" she moaned, half protest, half plea.
"Say my name like that again," he growled against her lips, "and I swear I'll never stop."
Her heart pounded violently, guilt screaming in her chest-but her body betrayed her again, arching toward his touch, shivering with need.
The water sloshed violently as Adrian leaned over the tub, pressing his body against hers. His T-shirt soaked instantly, clinging to his sculpted chest. His mouth trailed down her throat, hot, insistent kisses marking her skin.
Elena whimpered, torn between resistance and surrender.
"This is wrong," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
Adrian's lips found her ear. His voice was dark, broken with desire. "Then stop me."
But she couldn't.
Her hands fisted in his wet shirt, dragging him closer, crashing her lips back to his. The kiss was wild, frantic, years of repression exploding in a single, reckless moment.
Adrian groaned, his hand sliding higher, finally breaching the last barrier of her resistance. His touch seared her, claiming what she'd tried so hard to deny.
Her cry echoed in the steamy bathroom, half shame, half ecstasy.
In that instant, Elena knew-there was no going back.
They had crossed the line.
And she didn't want to turn around.
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7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
7.2
Blaire woke up in a Manhattan penthouse, her body covered in bruises and her innocence stolen.
Before she could process the terror, her adoptive sister Danita burst in, acting heartbroken and accusing Blaire of shamelessly seducing the powerful Kamryn Lane. Kamryn threw a one-million-dollar check at Blaire's bleeding face, calling her a calculating gold digger.
That night, Blaire overheard a conversation in the family study that shattered her entire reality.
"Once she gives birth to the Lane family's seed, we'll stage an accident, drain her blood, and transplant her healthy heart into your chest."
Her adoptive mother and Danita were celebrating the success of their trap. She wasn't an adopted daughter; she was a living organ bank and a disposable surrogate. Even her adoptive brother, Calhoun, knew everything, trapping her in the dark hallways with a sick, possessive obsession to ensure she never escaped.
The horrific truth suffocated her. The family that had taken her in had raised her like livestock for slaughter. How could they smile at her every day while planning to carve out her heart?
Terrified but burning with a desperate will to survive, Blaire swallowed a Plan B pill to ruin their surrogate plot and fled the estate. To get the money and power she needed to crush her adoptive family, she pulled out Kamryn Lane's business card. This time, she would make a deal with the devil.
8.3
Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis.
That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die.
Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker.
After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners.
And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark.
A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street.
She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared.
Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.
7.5
Five years ago, Alisson Ford's adoptive family drugged her and offered her to a repulsive old investor to save their failing company.
She escaped the trap, only to accidentally stumble into the bed of Jake Yates, the most terrifying and powerful billionaire in the city.
Months later, while she was painfully giving birth to triplets in a freezing basement, her adoptive sister Bella tracked her down. Bella violently snatched Alisson's firstborn son to pass off as her own ticket into the Yates family. Then, Bella smiled as her men poured gasoline over the mattress and set the room on fire, leaving Alisson and her two remaining newborns to burn alive.
Shielding her fragile babies with her own blistering skin in the roaring inferno, Alisson's despair turned into absolute, blood-soaked hatred. She couldn't fathom how the family she had trusted for years could steal her flesh and blood and condemn her to such a horrific death.
Five years later, Alisson returns to the city as a powerful trauma specialist. She steps right into Jake and Bella's grand engagement banquet, watching coldly as her five-year-old daughter runs straight up to the untouchable billionaire and hugs his leg.
"You are a bad daddy! You abandoned Mommy and us, and now you are going to marry an ugly old witch!"
9.5
Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire.
Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler.
"You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off.
But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud?
Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye.
"Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."