Through the
Thin Wall

Olivia has spent months pressed against the plaster, aching to the rhythm of the man next door's fist—her breaths growing bolder, her moans slipping through the cracks until they become a secret duet. When he finally crosses the hall, there's no talk, only his hands in her hair and his body crushing hers against the very wall that kept them apart, his gruff voice in her ear telling her exactly how long he's wanted to be inside her. He's older, raw, starved for weeks on the other side of that barrier, and when he spills deep inside her, he whispers that she belongs on his side now—filthy, desperate, and endlessly claimed.