Forbidden Heat:Between Friends Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Leo's POV

I barely slept that night—tossed and turned in my cramped studio apartment, my brain fried from replaying Cici's moans and that wet, greedy way she'd begged for my cum. By 4 AM, I'd had enough. Threw on a faded Dodgers hoodie, stuffed a duffel with shorts, tees, and my toothbrush, and hit the road.

LA at 4 AM is a weird, quiet version of itself—no gridlock on the 405, just a few truckers and night owls cruising. I blew through stop signs in my shit Toyota Corolla, the engine sputtering like it might die before I got there. Sid and Cici's neighborhood was the kind of suburban dream we mocked in college: tree-lined streets, white picket fences, and a "UCLA Bruins" doormat that screamed Sid's obsession. Their Craftsman house loomed at the end of the block, dark except for a porch light that Cici must've left on for me.​

I parked around the corner, just like she said, and snuck up to the back door. It was unlocked—her word as good as gold—and I slipped inside, my boots squeaking on the hardwood floor. The house smelled like Sid's cedar cologne mixed with Cici's vanilla lotion, a weirdly intimate combo that made my dick twitch.​

"Leo?" She whispered from the hallway, her voice thick with sleep and desire.​

I flicked on my phone's flashlight, catching a glimpse of her in a slinky black silk robe—open at the front, nothing underneath. Her hair was messy, her lips swollen, and she looked so hot I almost forgot how to breathe. "You're right on time," she purred, grabbing my hand and yanking me down the hall to the master bedroom.​

Sid's bedroom. The king-size bed dominated the room, and above it hung their wedding photo—Sid grinning like a dork, Cici in a white dress that looked nothing like the wrecked version she was about to become. The sight should've made me guilty, but instead it lit a fire in me. Fucking my best friend's wife in his own bed? That's the kind of dirty that made my balls tighten.​

"Sid's flight took off 20 minutes ago," she whispered, closing the door and locking it. "Texted me from the plane—said JFK's a zoo, but he'll call tomorrow night." She let the robe drop to the floor, and I groaned. No bra, no panties—just that soft, curvy body I couldn't get enough of. "Missed you," she said, pressing her bare chest to mine.​

"Missed this," I growled, grabbing her ass and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her wet pussy grinding against my dick—already hard as a steel beam. I carried her to the bed, laying her down on the crisp white sheets that smelled like Sid's laundry detergent. The contrast was filthy: his clean sheets, her dirty desire, my cock throbbing for her.​

I climbed on top of her, kissing her hard—tasting coffee and mint from her toothpaste, mixing with the faint salt of her skin. My hand slid down to her pussy, two fingers slipping inside easily—she was so wet, so ready. "Gonna fill you up right here," I whispered, nipping her earlobe. "Right where Sid sleeps. Gonna make sure this bed reeks of us."​

She moaned, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me in. "Do it, Leo—fuck me like you own me. Like this bed's yours. Like I'm yours."​

I pushed in slow, inch by inch, feeling her pussy stretch around me. It was tighter than the studio couch, hotter, wetter—like she was made for me. She gasped, her head falling back, and I started thrusting—slow at first, then faster, harder. The bed creaked like it was gonna collapse, and I didn't care if the old hippie neighbors heard. Let 'em. Let 'em know someone was finally giving Cici what she needed.​

"Harder," she whimpered, her nails digging into my back. "Fuck me deeper—fill me up so good I can't walk tomorrow."​

I obliged, slamming my hips into hers, hitting that spot inside her that made her eyes roll back. Her tits bounced in my face, and I bit her nipple—gentle but firm—and she came, her body tensing, her pussy pulsing so tight I thought I'd cum right then. "Shit—yes!" She screamed, her voice cracking.​

I held on, thrusting three more times before letting go—shooting a thick, hot load inside her, deep into her womb. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me close, and we stayed like that—my dick still buried in her, our bodies sticky with sweat and cum—until our breathing slowed.​

I pulled out after a minute, and cum dripped out of her pussy onto the sheets. She grinned, reaching down to push it back in with her finger. "Can't waste a drop," she said, winking. "Doctor said every little bit helps."​

I laughed, laying down next to her and pulling her into my arms. The wedding photo stared down at us, Sid's dumb grin mocking me, but I didn't care. Not when Cici's head was on my chest, her fingers tracing circles on my abs. "Best way to start the week," she whispered.​

"Hell yeah," I said, brushing her hair out of her face. "And it's only 5:30. We got all morning. All day. All week."​

She opened her eyes, that mischievous glint back, and climbed on top of me. Her pussy was still wet, still glistening with my cum, and she lined herself up with my dick—already hard again. "Then let's not waste time, cowboy," she purred, sinking down onto me in one quick, wet movement. "Gonna make sure this baby sticks. Gonna fuck you until neither of us can stand."​

I groaned, grabbing her hips and slamming her down onto me. The bed creaked louder, her moans filling the room, and I knew right then: this week was gonna be chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. And when Sid came back? He'd never suspect a thing. Never know his wife was carrying his best friend's kid. Never know his bed had been taken over by the guy he trusted most.​

As Cici rode me, her eyes dark and hungry, I let myself enjoy it. Let myself forget about Sid, about the studio, about the mess we were making. All that mattered was her—her skin, her moans, the way she felt around me. All that mattered was filling her up, over and over, until she was pregnant. Until she was mine.​

And if we got caught? Well, I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. For now, I was just gonna ride the wave.​