Elena had always been head over heels for Xavier. He was kind, attentive, the perfect boyfriend in every way except one. In bed, he was gentle to a fault—soft touches, slow rhythms that left her yearning for more. She craved roughness, the kind of raw dominance that made her body ache with need. But Xavier wasn't like this but his father gave vibe like that, every time she visited his house, she caught his father eyeing her. The man was built like a wall of muscle, broad shoulders straining against his shirts, a rugged jawline that screamed control. His name was Marcus, and those lingering glances ignited something forbidden in her.

One afternoon, Elena decided to surprise Xavier. She dressed in a tight top and jeans that hugged her curves, her heart fluttering with excitement. Knocking on the door, she smiled when Marcus answered, his eyes raking over her body. 'Xavier's inside,' he lied smoothly, stepping aside. She entered, calling out, but no answer came. Wandering through the house, she checked the living room, kitchen—nothing. Turning back to ask Marcus, he was right there, closing the distance.