Chapter 3 Right or Wrong

The soft hum of summer air danced through the open balcony doors, brushing against Lena's bare legs as she sat curled on the plush leather couch. Her best friend, Kayla, had left hours ago, leaving Lena alone in the Sterling home. She should have left too. She knew that. But Mr. Sterling was still upstairs, and something about that knowledge rooted her right where she sat.

She shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be thinking the things she was thinking.

But she was.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, the friction of her thighs making her pulse throb. He wasn't just any man. He was older. Wiser. Controlled in a way that made her feel exposed. And lately, the way he looked at her... it wasn't fatherly. No, not anymore. There was a quiet tension in his eyes. A pull. And she felt it too.

She heard the soft creak of stairs and straightened, breath held.

"Still here?" The voice was deep, rough with age and authority. Mr. Sterling walked into view, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His gaze dropped to her legs, then dragged up slowly. Possessively.

Lena swallowed. "Yeah. I-Kayla left me her charger. I was just about to-"

He cocked a brow. "Were you?" He stepped closer, the air around him thick with something heavy and primal.

She stood, heart slamming against her ribs. "I should go."

"You should," he echoed, stepping into her space.

Her back hit the wall.

He didn't touch her. Not yet. Just looked down at her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve one piece at a time.

"You know this is wrong," she whispered.

He nodded slowly. "Do you want me to stop?"

Lena's breath caught. Her body screamed yes, even while her mouth murmured, "This is wrong."

"Say 'stop' and I will."

She didn't.

His hand rose, fingers tracing the side of her jaw, then down her throat. "So fucking sweet, Lena. Always looking at me with those big eyes like you don't know what you're doing. But you do. Don't you?"

She shivered. "I... I shouldn't want this."

"But you do."

And then his mouth was on hers.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't kind. It was claiming. His hands gripped her waist, dragging her into him like he needed her closer, like distance was a sin.

She gasped into the kiss, and his tongue slid in, slow and demanding. She melted. Heat coiled low in her belly, and her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Tell me to stop," he rasped against her lips.

"Don't you dare."

He groaned, scooping her up. She squeaked as her legs locked around his waist, the hard press of him against her making her gasp.

He walked them to the study, kicked the door shut behind him, and laid her on the couch like she was breakable.

But he wasn't treating her gently.

Not now.

His body covered hers, pressing her down, caging her in. She arched as his mouth trailed down her throat, sucking and biting until she whimpered.

"Look at you," he murmured, tugging her shirt up and over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples pebbled under his stare. "You knew what you were doing when you stayed. Didn't you, baby?"

Lena bit her lip. "I didn't mean-"

He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. She cried out.

He growled, switching to the other. "Don't lie to me. You wanted this. You want me. Say it."

She moaned, fingers clawing his hair. "I want you."

"Good girl."

He pulled back just enough to peel her shorts down, dragging her panties with them. She was soaked. His thumb slid between her thighs, finding her slick center. Her hips jerked.

"So wet for me," he said, voice dark with hunger. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"

Lena's face burned. She couldn't lie. Not with her body betraying her so completely. She whimpered when his thumb found her clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles.

"You ever had a man touch you like this?"

She shook her head, breathless.

"Good. You're mine."

And then he was between her legs, mouth hot and greedy. She gasped, head falling back as he devoured her. His tongue worked her clit with practiced rhythm, then thrust deep inside, over and over.

"Mr. Sterling-oh my God-"

He chuckled against her, the vibrations sending her over the edge. She cried out as pleasure tore through her.

He didn't stop.

He held her thighs open, drank every drop of her release, then rose with dark eyes and wet lips. His belt clinked, pants unzipping.

She stared, wide-eyed.

He was thick. Hard. Bigger than she'd imagined.

She swallowed. "I... I don't know if I can-"

He grabbed her chin. "You can. And you will."

He lined himself up and pushed in slowly. Her body stretched, resisted. Then yielded.

She moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. "Oh-God-"

He filled her inch by inch, watching her face the whole time. "That's it. Take me. You're doing so good."

When he bottomed out, she gasped.

He stayed still, letting her adjust.

Then he moved.

Slow at first, dragging out every stroke. Then faster. Rougher. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, driving deeper.

She clung to him, head spinning.

"This is so wrong," she whispered.

He growled, thrusting harder. "Then why does it feel so right?"

The couch creaked under them. Skin slapped skin. Her moans filled the room.

"You're mine now, Lena. I don't care. You belong to me."

He flipped her over, pulling her hips back until she was on her knees. He drove into her again, deeper from this angle. She screamed into the cushion.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I'm yours," she cried. "I'm yours."

His hand slid around to rub her clit, fast and ruthless. She came with a broken sob.

He followed, thrusting once, twice more before spilling inside her with a deep, guttural moan.

They collapsed together, tangled in sweat and sin.

Minutes passed.

He brushed hair from her face. "You still think it was wrong?"

She nodded weakly. "It was wrong... but I'd do it again."

He smirked. "Good. Because I'm not done with you, Lena. Not even close."

And deep down, she didn't want him to be.