CHAPTER FOUR

The sunlight crept through Nora’s curtains, bright and unforgiving. Her body ached with the memory of the night before, every muscle tender, every nerve alive. She lay still for a long moment, eyes wide, listening to the silence of the house and wondering if it had really happened.

But her body betrayed her. The heat still pooled low in her belly, her thighs pressed together as though they could hide the truth. Last night was no dream. Louis had touched her, kissed her, claimed her in ways she had never imagined.

Shame burned her cheeks, but it was tangled with something even more dangerous—longing.

She dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water rushed over her skin, hot and relentless, but it did not wash away the thoughts clawing at her mind. She leaned her forehead against the cool tile, eyes shutting tight, and whispered a shaky breath.

Her hand moved on its own, sliding down, parting her thighs. She told herself to stop, told herself this was wrong, but the memory of Louis’s voice filled her head, the way she had growled his name, the way she had screamed when he took her, the way she moaned and called him daddy. The sound echoed inside her skull.

A moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers moved faster sliding in and out of her pussy, chasing the same fire he had lit inside her. She bit her lip to muffle her cry, but when her release came, sharp and blinding, it tore through her anyway.

She slumped against the wall, chest heaving, shame and pleasure washing over her all at once.

By the time she stepped out, she wrapped herself in her towel quickly, staring at her reflection. Her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips—she looked like a girl with a secret.

She forced herself into shorts and a light top, combed her hair, and went downstairs.

Her mother was already setting plates on the table. “Morning, sweetheart,” she said warmly. “Sit and eat before it gets cold.”

“Morning, Mom,” Nora murmured, sliding into her chair. Her voice sounded thin, guilty, even to her own ears.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her heart stop.

Louis entered the room casually, a white shirt stretching over his broad chest, his dark hair still damp as though he had just showered. He moved with easy confidence, the same confidence that had pinned her to her bed last night.

“Morning,” he said smoothly, his voice steady.

“Good morning, honey,” her mom said brightly. “Did you sleep well?”

Louis spread butter on his toast, then glanced at Nora as he answered. “Better than most nights.”

Nora’s fork slipped from her fingers and clattered against her plate. She grabbed it quickly, staring down, but she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and knowing.

Her mother prattled on about errands, completely oblivious, while Nora sat stiff and silent, every nerve screaming. When Louis brushed past her chair to pour himself juice, his hand grazed the back of her shoulder—light, fleeting, but enough to make her jolt. He leaned down just slightly, his breath grazing her ear as he whispered so low only she could hear.

“You sound beautiful when you scream.”

Her chest tightened. She shoved food around her plate, unable to respond, terrified her mother might see the fire in her cheeks.

After breakfast, she bolted upright. “I think I’ll swim,” she said quickly, grabbing her glass to take to the sink.

“That’s a good idea,” her mom said. “But don’t stay in the sun too long, darling.”

Nora rushed upstairs, changed into her swimsuit, and hurried outside.

The pool water was cool, biting, and she dove in to shock herself back to reality. But the more she tried to forget, the more she felt him everywhere. She surfaced, gasping, slick hair clinging to her face, when a shadow stretched across the water.

Louis.

He had stripped his shirt, his bare chest catching the sunlight, and now sat at the pool’s edge, one hand dipping lazily into the water.

“You didn’t invite me,” he said casually.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come,” she muttered, swimming quickly to the other side while tying her towel around her waist and still avoiding his eyes.

“I want many things, Nora. You know that now.” His tone was calm, but his eyes burned with intent.

She tried to swim away again, but when she reached the pool’s edge, his hand shot out and caught her wrist. He pulled her up, water cascading off her body as she rose before him. She clutched the railing, trembling.

“Louis—” she whispered, her heart racing.

“Shh.” He leaned forward, brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek. “Your mother is inside. She won’t hear. Just a moment.”

His lips caught hers before she could protest. The kiss was slow at first, then deeper, hungrier, tasting of everything she had tried to deny. Her towel slipped to the ground as his hand slid over her hip, squeezing her butts firmly.

Nora whimpered, clutching his shoulders, and when she tried to pull away, his mouth chased hers. She panicked, biting his lower lip in desperation. He hissed, then smirked against her mouth.

“You like fighting me, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Louis, I—”

Her mother’s voice floated through the open window. “Nora! Don’t stay in the sun too long!”

Nora shoved at him weakly, but he caught her around the waist and gave her a sharp, playful smack on her ass. She gasped, her face flaming as she tore herself free at last.

Snatching her towel from the ground, she wrapped it tightly around her body. “I have to go,” she whispered breathlessly.

Louis leaned back against the pool chair, completely unbothered, his smirk slow and dangerous. “Go, then. But you’ll come back. You always will.”

Her heart hammered as she rushed inside, towel clutched close. She did not dare look back. But she knew without seeing it that Louis was still watching her, that smirk etched on his lips as if he had already won.

---