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Chapter 5: Layla's Next Week

Every night that week, after the house quieted and the last light clicked off downstairs, I slipped into the shadows, as I belonged there. My room was at the end of the hall, close enough to the master suite that sounds carried, soft at first, then building into something raw and unmistakable. I told myself it was curiosity, that hearing them would dull the ache Daniel left inside me each morning or afternoon. But it only made it worse. Hotter. I needed to see.

Monday night:

I pressed my back to the cool wall outside their door, cracked just enough for a sliver of lamplight to spill into the hallway. My nightshirt was already bunched at my hips, fingers circling slowly over the damp cotton of my panties. Inside, Elena's long legs were hooked over Daniel's shoulders on the bed. Her dark hair fanned across the pillow like ink; that sultry smile flashed even as she moaned in her thick accent: "Deeper, love, fuck, yes." His broad back flexed with each thrust, the muscles rolling under skin still faintly marked from where I'd scratched him earlier in the kitchen. The wet slap of their bodies echoed, rhythmic, obscene. Elena arched, breasts bouncing, nipples dark and tight; when she came the first time, her cry was sharp, almost surprised, thighs quivering around his head before he flipped her. I slipped my hand inside my panties then, matching his rhythm with slow drags over my clit while he pounded her from behind, one hand fisted in her hair. My breath hitched when he groaned her name, hips snapping hard; I bit my lip to stay silent as my own release hit, hot and sudden, thighs clenching around my fingers while their mingled cries filled the room. I came again, watching him spill inside her, thick and glistening as it dripped down her thighs. My knees nearly buckled. I retreated to my room, shaking, still tasting him on my tongue from hours earlier.

Tuesday night:

The study door was ajar tonight, careless, or maybe not. I knelt in the hallway shadows, nightshirt rucked up, two fingers buried deep while Elena rode him reverse in his leather chair. Her hips rolled in slow, filthy circles; I could hear the slick sounds of her sliding up and down his thick length, seeing the way her back arched when she ground her clit against his base. Daniel's hands gripped her waist, guiding her faster; his low growls mixed with her accented whimpers: "Daniel, God, right there." The chair creaked under them. When she came the first time, soaking his lap in a visible rush, I pressed my palm hard against my mound, rubbing frantically. My release built in waves: once when she shattered again on the desk, legs spread wide as he drove into her; a second, quieter one when he roared and filled her, creamy trails leaking out as she clenched around him. I had to clamp my free hand over my mouth, body jerking silently in the dark.

Wednesday night:

Guest bedroom this time. I hid in the linen closet across the hall, door cracked, heart hammering. Elena was on top, riding him cowgirl on the bed we'd fucked on earlier; her long body undulated, breasts swaying, that Dua Lipa smile wicked as she leaned down to kiss him. "I've been wet thinking of you," she purred, voice husky. I mirrored her, straddling my own hand, rocking against my palm while Daniel thrust up into her, the bed creaking in protest. The 69 came next; her mouth stretched around his cock, his tongue buried between her thighs. Their muffled moans vibrated through the air. I came hard watching her throat work, swallowing him deep while he devoured her, my fingers plunging fast, clit throbbing under frantic circles. When they climaxed together, her body convulsing atop him, I shuddered through my own peak, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

Thursday night:

Pool house echoes still in my ears from earlier, chlorine on my skin. Tonight they were in the master again, but something felt different. The door was open wider than usual, almost inviting. I crept closer, heart in my throat, and knelt just inside the threshold shadow. Elena was astride him on the bed, facing the door this time. Her eyes were dark, knowing, flicking toward the darkness where I hid. Not startled.

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