Series 1: Forbidden Chemistry (Chapter 1: THE NIGHT I LET HIM IN

The rain lashed against the windows like a lover’s furious hands, loud and wild. The city outside was a mess of headlights and thunder, but inside my apartment, everything was still — except for my heart, hammering like a wild thing trapped inside my ribs.

I wasn’t supposed to call him.

I wasn’t supposed to want him.

Yet here I was, standing barefoot in my thin, silky nightgown, staring at the door like a fool as I waited for him to knock.

And when he did — a sharp, commanding knock — my knees nearly buckled.

I opened the door.

And there he stood.

Eli.

Dark hair plastered to his forehead from the rain, sharp jaw clenched, black t-shirt soaked and clinging to his wicked body. His eyes — those deep, sinful eyes — drank me in like I was the last drink of water on earth. His fists were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, but his entire body was taut, dangerous, like he was one breath away from devouring me.

"Let me in, baby girl," he said, voice low and rough, dripping with frustration... and something even hotter.

I should have said no.

I should have slammed the door shut.

I should have remembered that Eli was wrong for me in every way.

Instead, my hand trembled as I reached for him, pulling him inside like he belonged.

The door slammed shut behind him. His hands found my waist, warm even through the silk of my gown. His touch was fire on my skin, burning me from the inside out.

"You shouldn’t have called me, sweet thing," he rasped, his lips brushing my ear.

"I know," I whispered, tilting my head back, offering myself without shame.

He didn’t kiss me. Not at first.

He stared at me, chest heaving, eyes wild, like he was fighting some battle inside himself. His fingers dug into my hips, firm and possessive.

"You have no idea," he murmured, "what you do to me."

And then he crushed his mouth against mine.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claim.

Wet, hungry, desperate.

I gasped into him, my hands flying up to tangle in his rain-drenched hair. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, pressing me against the wall with a hard thump. My nightgown rode up, baring my thighs, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the hard, heavy heat of him pressing right where I ached for him most.

"Eli," I whimpered, clinging to him.

He growled, the sound vibrating against my mouth, against my entire body. "Say it again, baby."

I panted, drunk on him, high off the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body. "Eli," I breathed, softer, sweeter.

His hips rolled against me, grinding slow and deliberate, and I cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

"You’re mine," he snarled against my throat, teeth scraping, biting down just enough to make me whimper.

"Yours," I gasped without thinking, without hesitating.

He carried me to the couch, dropping me onto the cushions like a prize he couldn't wait to unwrap. I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on me again, his mouth trailing down my neck, my collarbone, lower...

My nightgown slipped off my shoulders, pooling around my waist. My nipples peaked under his stare, and a wicked smile curved his lips.

"God, look at you," he murmured, voice rough with awe. "My sweet addiction."

He cupped one breast, thumb brushing my sensitive peak, and I arched into his touch, shameless. His mouth followed, hot and hungry, sucking, biting, teasing until I was writhing beneath him, moaning his name like a prayer.

"Please, Eli," I whispered, hips lifting, begging.

"You want it, baby girl?" he asked, teasing, dark and delicious.

"Yes," I cried. "I need you."

He slid his hand between my thighs, finding me soaked and desperate. He groaned deep in his chest, like he was barely hanging onto his control.

"Fuck, you’re dripping for me," he growled, fingers sliding through my slick folds.

I bucked against his hand, needy, frantic. He didn’t make me wait. Two thick fingers sank into me, stretching me wide, and I cried out, clutching at his arms as he worked me, slow and deep.

"You’re so fucking tight, baby," he rasped against my ear. "So perfect for me."

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. My body was on fire, every nerve ending sparking under his touch.

He kissed me again, sloppy and dirty, tongue tangling with mine as he finger-fucked me harder, faster, building me up until I was shaking in his arms.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he whispered, voice dark velvet.

And I did — hard and fast, body convulsing, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

He held me through it, murmuring filthy sweet nothings into my ear, letting me ride it out on his hand.

When I finally came down, he was watching me, eyes molten, pupils blown wide.

"I’m not done with you," he promised, voice thick with need.

He stood up, yanking his soaked shirt over his head, revealing a body sculpted for sin. Muscles, scars, tattoos — every inch of him raw masculinity.

I couldn’t look away.

He peeled off his jeans and boxers in one smooth move, and my mouth went dry at the sight of him. Thick, hard, impossibly big.

He crawled back over me, caging me in with his body.

"You gonna take me, sweet girl?" he murmured against my lips.

"You gonna let me fuck you so good you forget your own name?"

"Yes," I breathed, desperate. "Please, Eli."

He lined himself up, teasing my entrance with the fat head of his cock.

I whimpered, hips lifting, trying to pull him into me.

"So needy," he chuckled darkly, kissing the corner of my mouth. "So damn sweet."

And then he thrust into me — slow, steady, claiming every inch.

I cried out, nails clawing down his back as he filled me, stretched me, completed me.

He groaned low and filthy, forehead dropping to mine. "Goddamn, you feel like heaven."

He started to move, deep and relentless, grinding against that perfect spot inside me with every thrust.

I couldn’t stop the moans that poured out of me, couldn’t stop the way my body met his every movement like we were made for each other.

"Mine," he growled, over and over, fucking me like he needed to mark me from the inside out.

"Yours," I sobbed, lost in him, lost in the way he made me feel — like nothing else mattered but this, him, us.

The couch squeaked beneath us, the rain pounding against the windows, our bodies moving together like a storm of their own.

He reached between us, rubbing quick circles on my clit, and I shattered again, screaming his name as pleasure exploded through me.

He cursed, hips slamming harder, faster, chasing his own release.

"Where do you want it, baby girl?" he panted against my mouth.

"Inside," I gasped. "Fill me, Eli. I need it."

He growled, primal and wild, thrusting one more time before he came, pulsing deep inside me, groaning my name like a man possessed.

We collapsed together, sweaty and breathless, clinging to each other like lifelines.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the rain and our ragged breathing.

He cupped my cheek, staring down at me with something almost tender in his eyes.

"You’re trouble," he whispered, brushing his nose against mine.

"You’re worse," I whispered back, smiling through the aftershocks.

He kissed me, slow and sweet this time, and pulled me closer against his chest.

Outside, the storm raged on.

Inside, I let him in — not just into my apartment... but into every broken, desperate, aching part of me.

And I knew, deep down,

there was no turning back.