Forbidden

Marcos arrived under the pretense of divorce. The moment Mateo’s parents left, he took off his swimsuit and asked whether his nephew minded.

Three weeks keeping the secret. When I knelt behind the lattice and heard his voice, I knew I had to tell him everything, down to the last detail of the sin.

Lucas made the proposal over drinks, as if it were a joke. But no one laughed. And that silence said everything.

He was carrying a confession he had never told anyone. So was she. That rainy night, with hot chocolate in their hands, they told each other everything.

Weeks earlier, we’d made a bet over a card game. The loser would have to fulfill the other’s darkest fantasy. He lost—and I was ready to collect.

The villa was perfect for an affair: four bedrooms, husbands fishing offshore, and two men due at seven. Until the gate rang at six.

When Daniela brought her friend to the back room, she thought she was introducing her to the place. She had no idea the innocent woman already knew it by heart.

When he said he wanted to watch, I set the phone on the bedside lamp, turned on the camera, and let him see every second of that night.

There were seven women in that apartment, the wine had done its work, and Camila started talking. None of us expected what she confessed that night.

He caught me looking at him in the locker room and said nothing. But on the way out he was waiting by the fence, nodding toward the woods: just a minute.

I’d gone months without anyone touching me. That night I started the car with no destination, but my body already knew exactly where it was going.

I’d been watching him in the locker room for months without daring to act. That afternoon, when he asked if I wanted to go up to his place, I knew it was now or never.

I’d walked for hours, my dress torn and blood on my legs. I couldn’t stop. I had to see him, even if everything I did that night destroyed me.

When Rodrigo crossed the threshold, Valentina looked at him with the calm of a woman who knew exactly what she had in mind—and that night, neither was innocent.

Two broken, grateful bodies, two black leather collars. Nadia thought she was the hunter. Until the buyer opened the briefcase.

Living in a cage, obeying without question, belonging completely to someone. That’s what I wanted, and when I got it, reality surpassed any fantasy.

When she dialed maintenance for the second time that night, she already knew it wasn’t to ask him to clean anything.

At five in the morning, the hallway in my house should have been empty. But there I was, back against the wall, unable to move and not wanting to.

When I went down to the garage, Valeria was waiting for me in leather pants and a smile that was anything but maternal.

He’d come in looking for the bathroom and stayed standing in the doorway, staring at me. Twenty years old, nervous as hell, and asking me something I hadn’t expected.