What would a man Do?

Nadia sighed, the weight of the day clinging to her like a clingy ex. She'd spent hours with her friends shopping for things she didn't need, all in the name of pretending her life wasn't a chaotic shitstorm.

'This isn't just retail therapy. This is a tactical retreat from everything—husband, little brother, and all those absolutely fucked-up, deliciously sinful thoughts swirling in my head.'

She stepped into the dark, silent house and immediately felt the weight of the eerie stillness. No lights, no sound, no signs of life—just the gentle hum of her own increasingly sinful thoughts.

'Where is everyone?'

She wondered, slipping off her shoes and glancing around like she'd walked into a low-budget horror film.

She figured her dad was probably out drinking himself into another regrettable karaoke session, but her mom? The woman who could sense a misplaced sock from a mile away? Nowhere to be found.

What Nadia didn't know was that her mom was knocked out cold upstairs, courtesy of a certain someone who had literally and figuratively squeezed her dry. But ignorance is bliss, or in Nadia's case, fuel for increasingly unhinged thoughts.

"Guess Chen and Artis aren't back yet either."

But then the thought of him—Artis—hit her like a wrecking ball. Her cheeks flushed, her pulse quickened, and her body betrayed her faster than a drunk best friend spilling secrets.

'This morning… that cock… that fucking smirk!'

The memories came rushing back, vivid and unfiltered, like some raunchy highlight reel playing on loop in her brain. Her thighs pressed together instinctively as her core tightened, a shameful warmth spreading through her.

'Goddammit, I'm wet. Again. What the fuck is wrong with me?'

She paused, staring at the dark hallway like it held the answers. It didn't. It just made her imagination run wild. Her pussy throbbed with every dirty thought, and she knew there was no escaping it.

"M-maybe I should go take a bath?"

She whispered, her voice shaky, desperate, like someone trying to talk themselves out of a bad idea.

But deep down, she knew a bath wouldn't cleanse the filth building in her mind. If anything, it might make it worse.

Before Nadia could fully process her predicament, a hand clamped over her mouth, yanking her back against a hard, solid chest. Panic flared as she instinctively struggled, her muffled scream stifled beneath the stranger's grip.

'Holy fuck! An intruder? In my house? What the actual shit!'

Her mind raced. She hadn't even locked the front door properly—too lost in her horny daydreams. But before her fight-or-flight mode could fully kick in, a voice purred into her ear, low and teasing, instantly recognizable and impossibly smug.

"Don't you know it's dangerous for a sweet little muffin like you to wander around alone at night?"

The voice was smooth as silk, dripping with mischief.

"Some people might not be able to control themselves."

Her panic dissolved in an instant, replaced by a confusing cocktail of relief and arousal.

'Fuck, it's him.'

His hand slid from her mouth, down to her chin, but his thumb lingered over her lower lip, pressing just enough to make her heart pound harder.

His other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. And there it was—his raging boner, unapologetically grinding against her ass like it owned the place.

Her breath hitched. Moving away didn't even cross her mind. Why the fuck would it? This was hotter than any fantasy she'd conjured up.

"Some people… like you?"

She shot back, her voice trembling slightly but still managing a teasing lilt.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back.

"Ha, ha… yes. Maybe. Does it matter?"

'Does it matter?!'

Her cheeks burned, her core clenched, and her brain officially clocked out for the night.

"Yes, it depends."

She teased, her voice shaky but laced with curiosity.

"But… what would someone like you do to me… if you saw me in the dark?"

Her words hung in the air like a dare, her lips brushing his thumb with the kind of intentional softness that screamed I'm playing with fire, and I like it.

"You really wanna know?" 

"Y-yes…" 

Her mind spiraled.

'Wait… am I shaved? Shit, why the fuck am I thinking about that? He's not gonna do anything to me. Right? Definitely not tonight. Probably. Maybe… oh fuck, why does the idea sound so—'

Her whole body betrayed her, giving a little jerk at the thought.

'Am I seriously waiting for him to molest me? Holy shit. Am I that far gone?'

Before her inner monologue could spiral further into horny chaos, he yanked her out of her thoughts—and her balance.

"Look at you."

He muttered, grabbing her arm and spinning her like they were in some twisted ballroom dance. The motion left her breathless, her feet fumbling to find the ground again.

She ended up directly in front of him, his hand still gripping hers, his eyes devouring her under the moonlight.

Those eyes. Hungry, predatory, like he was already picturing her naked and begging. The intensity of his gaze turned her heartbeat into a full-blown jackhammer.

"In a dress like that…"

He drawled, his tone equal parts admiration and mockery.

His eyes traveled slowly—lazily, even—from the top of her head to her toes, lingering on all the sinful curves her loose, sky-blue robe failed to hide. She'd picked it for its modesty, but up close, under his scrutiny, it might as well have been lingerie.

Her breath hitched.

"What couldn't someone do to you?"

He muttered, his voice thick with amusement, the kind that sent a shiver down her spine.

Nadia stared at him, wide-eyed and breathless, her brain firing off warning signals she had no intention of heeding.

'Why am I like this? He's not even touching me—well, not really—and yet my pussy is acting like it's auditioning for a wet t-shirt contest.'

Her gaze drank him in, and holy hell, what a sight. His chiseled torso was on full display, glistening with sweat like he'd just stepped out of some erotic fitness magazine.

The moonlight danced on every sharp cut of his abs, his damp hair slicked back like he was auditioning for Hot Villain 101. And that damn robe—barely holding it together—did nothing to hide the very real something straining for freedom below his waist.

She gulped, her breath hitching as her eyes betrayed her, darting to that area for just a second too long.

"And what would someone… d-do to me?"

She stammered, the question tumbling out as her voice wavered between curiosity and desperation.

He tilted his head, one hand coming to his chin like he was pondering her fate. That damn smirk on his face only made her heart pound harder.

"If I were some random stranger, just strolling through the woods and suddenly spotted a little wild bunny like you… The first thing I'd do? Pretend to trip."

"P-Pretend to trip?"

She echoed, blinking at him in confusion. Her mind scrambled to connect the dots.

'Does he mean fall… like fall in love? Is he being sweet, or am I missing somethi—'

Her thoughts didn't get far.

"Something like this."

He said, with the kind of theatrical flair that belonged on a stage—or maybe a poorly rehearsed porno.

Before she could process what was happening, he..