All parties are happy

Lila and I married six months after that hazy night in LA, a whirlwind of love that felt both inevitable and surreal. The ceremony was small, just us and a handful of friends on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, the wind tugging at my white dress, her hand warm in mine as we said our vows. She wore a tailored suit, sharp and stunning, her auburn hair catching the sunset like a flame. When she kissed me, the world fell away, and I knew—whatever had brought us together, it was ours now, a magic we’d claimed.

A year into our marriage, life was a beautiful rhythm. We’d settled in a cozy apartment near LAX, my flight schedule syncing with her hotel shifts, our nights filled with laughter and tangled sheets. I’d come home to her cooking—badly, adorably—her hips swaying to music, and she’d greet me with a kiss that still made my knees weak. Our love was steady, deep, a fire that burned bright and constant. Until Liam came back.

It was a rainy night, the kind that turned LA into a shimmering blur. I’d just landed from a red-eye, my uniform damp as I stepped into our building, when I felt it—a pull, sharp and cold, tugging at my core. The elevator doors opened, and there he was, leaning against our apartment door, his silvered eyes glinting in the dim hall light. Liam. The name hit me like a shockwave, memories flooding back in fragments—his bite, his touch, the suite. My breath caught, my body trembling with a mix of fear and something darker, something I couldn’t name.

Lila opened the door before I could speak, her hazel eyes widening as she saw him. “You,” she whispered, and I knew she remembered too. He stepped inside, uninvited yet inevitable, his presence filling the room like a storm. “I’ve missed my girls,” he said, his voice a velvet growl, and my skin prickled, heat pooling low in my belly despite myself.

He didn’t ask. He beckoned, and we went to him, drawn by that invisible tether. The living room became a haze of sensation—his hands, cold and commanding, peeling my uniform away, the damp fabric clinging to my skin before falling in a heap. Lila’s suit followed, her camisole sliding off to reveal the golden curve of her breasts, and I watched, mesmerized, as he pulled her close. His lips found her neck, fangs sinking in with a slow, deliberate grace, and she gasped, her body arching against him, her eyes locking with mine. The sight sent a jolt through me, raw and electric.

Then he turned to me, his fingers tracing the lace of my bra, snapping it free with a flick. His bite came next, sharp and deep at the curve of my shoulder, and I moaned, the pain melting into a molten wave that flooded my veins. He drank, slow and savoring, and I felt Lila’s hands on me, warm and steady, grounding me as I unraveled. We were his again, but this time, it was different—we were together, our breaths mingling, our bodies pressed close.

He guided us to the couch, a tangle of limbs and desire. His touch was ice against my heat, his mouth claiming mine as he settled between my thighs, each thrust a rhythm that echoed in my bones. Lila was there, her lips on my neck where he’d bitten, her fingers teasing my skin, amplifying every sensation. Then he took her, lifting her effortlessly, and I watched, enthralled, as she wrapped herself around him, her cries sharp and sweet. Our hands found each other, fingers interlocking, and when he brought us together—her atop me, him behind her—the world dissolved into a symphony of pleasure, a crescendo that left us trembling, breathless, reborn.

When he left, vanishing into the night as silently as he’d come, we lay there, sprawled across the couch, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths slowing. Lila turned to me, her eyes soft and fierce, and kissed me—deep, tender, a promise. “That was… us,” she whispered, and I nodded, feeling it too. Liam had taken, yes, but he’d given us something more—a spark, a magic that wove us tighter.

From that night, our bond deepened, a thread of the extraordinary binding us. We’d catch each other’s eyes across the room, a shared secret in our smiles, and our love grew wilder, richer. The bites faded, the memories softened, but the fire he’d reignited stayed, fueling nights of passion, days of closeness. We were his once, but now we were ours—stronger, more magical, a love forged in shadows and light.