Chapter 373. Showing Her What’s The Real Thing About A Man’s Peak Body!**

Chapter 373: 373. Showing Her What’s The Real Thing About A Man’s Peak Body!**

Aveline retreated into the en suite bathroom, closing the door to create a temporary barrier between herself and Mike’s predatory stare. The click of the lock felt like a surrender.

Inside, the fluorescent light hummed with an antiseptic brightness that contrasted sharply with the charged, shadowy intimacy of the bedroom.

Her reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable. Her hair was mussed from Mike’s grip, her lips swollen and reddened, and her eyes—those analytical, controlled eyes—were dilated with a primal hunger.

She leaned against the marble countertop, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

"Haaah... haaaah..." Each exhale felt like a release of years of pent-up repression.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to her reflection, but there was no conviction in the question. Her hands moved to the buttons of her blouse with unsteady fingers. "God, what am I doing..."

As she shed her clothes, the cool air of the bathroom hit her heated skin, sending fresh shivers cascading down her spine. She moved toward the back of the closet, where she kept the things she never wore, the things she had bought during moments of quiet, desperate rebellion.

Her fingers found it: a golden bikini, constructed of shimmering metallic threads and impossibly thin strings.

She pulled it out, the fabric cool and slick against her palms. As she began to step into it, the reality of her situation crashed over her like a wave.

"It’s been... over a decade," she murmured to herself, her voice cracking as she struggled to tie the delicate strings at her hips.

The silk of the bikini clung to her curves like a second skin, the gold catching the light and making her tan skin glow. "Ten years since Renaud left for work every morning... ten years of being the composed mother, the respectable teacher, and the empty vessel..."

A sudden, sharp moan tore from her throat as she pulled the top tight over her breasts. The sensation of the metal threads pressing against her sensitive nipples made her back arch involuntarily.

"Nngh... ahh!" She gripped the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white. "It’s... it’s exhilarating."

The taboo of it, the sheer wrongness of presenting herself like a piece of meat to a man who had just threatened her throat, was sending her arousal into overdrive. She felt a familiar, long-forgotten ache between her thighs, a throbbing heat that made her feel dangerously alive.

"I feel... I feel young again," she whimpered, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in her throat before dissolving into another moan. "Like I’m not just a ghost in this house anymore..."

"Like I actually exist."

But then, a flash of guilt pierced through the haze of lust. The image of Tyler’s face, his earnest smile, and his belief in the ’hero’ Mike had pretended to be flashed before her eyes.

A wave of shame washed over her, but even that was twisted by her arousal; the guilt only served to heighten the transgression.

"I’m sorry, Tyler," she whispered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she stared at her exposed, trembling body in the mirror. "I’m so sorry, my sweet boy... but your mother is a woman too."

"Your mother still has needs that you can’t possibly understand."

A wet, broken sob escaped her as she finished adjusting the golden strings. She looked at herself, a creature of gold and sin, standing in the sterile light of a bathroom, preparing to walk back into the darkness to be claimed.

Her body was humming, every nerve ending screaming for the contact she knew was coming.

Taking one last shuddering breath, hiss... haaaah, she turned off the bathroom light and opened the door, stepping back into the bedroom where Mike waited.

Aveline stepped back into the bedroom, the golden bikini strings digging slightly into her hips as she walked. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every movement causing the metallic fabric to graze her nipples, sending involuntary electricity through her nerves.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

"Mike?" she called out, her voice barely more than a husky whisper. "Mike, I’m... I’m ready."

Silence greeted her. The bedroom was empty.

The amber glow of the bedside lamp cast long, lonely shadows across the sheets she had imagined them sharing moments before.

A flash of panic spiked through her. Had he left?

Had the reality of what he had said that she was merely a transaction finally made him walk away?

"Mike!" she called louder, her breathing becoming more erratic.

"Hah... hah..." The fear of rejection mingled dangerously with her arousal, creating a nauseatingly potent cocktail in her gut.

She moved through the hallway with unsteady steps, the golden fabric shimmering with every frantic movement. She checked the kitchen, cold and dark.

She checked the living room and found it empty. Her pulse was racing now, a frantic rhythm that made her lightheaded.

"Mike, this isn’t funny!"

Her footsteps led her toward the stairs, toward the wing of the house where Tyler’s room was located. The door to the boy’s room was slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness beckoning from within.

A strange instinct pulled her forward, a compulsion she couldn’t name.

She pushed the door open slowly, the hinges letting out a faint, ghostly whine. The room was pitch black, smelling faintly of old textbooks and teenage sweat.

She could see nothing but the silhouette of the furniture.

"Mike?" she whispered, stepping into the darkness, her hands trembling at her sides. "Why are you in here...?"

"Why are you in my son’s room...?" A wave of confusion and mild distress washed over her. "Wouldn’t you prefer it if we did it in--"

Click.

The harsh light of the bedside lamp flooded the room, instantly searing her retinas. Aveline whined, squinting as her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden brightness.

When her vision finally cleared, the breath died in her throat. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

Mike was sitting on the edge of Tyler’s bed. He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

The lamplight played across the hard, defined planes of his abdominal muscles and the massive expanse of his chest. But her eyes were immediately drawn lower, hypnotized by the sheer, impossible scale of him.

His cock was fully erect, a dark, veined monolith that seemed to defy gravity. It was a staggering, easily thirty-two centimeters of thick, throbbing flesh that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

"Oh... oh god," Aveline breathed, the words escaping her as a broken moan. "Nngh... ahh..."

She felt her knees weaken. The sight of him there, in the sanctum of her son’s room, surrounded by the remnants of Tyler’s childhood, added a layer of forbidden corruption that made her blood boil.

Her hips gave an involuntary twitch, the golden bikini bottom suddenly feeling far too tight.

Mike didn’t move. He simply watched her, his dark eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that felt like it was stripping her bare more effectively than any hand could.

The power imbalance was absolute; he sat in the boy’s space, claiming it, while she stood there exposed in nothing but gold threads, trembling at his feet.

"You took your time," Mike said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

His gaze never wavered from her face, but his cock twitched visibly, a slow, deliberate movement that made Aveline let out a whimper.

"I... I didn’t know where you were," she stammered, her throat working convulsively. "Mike, please... you can’t be here. This is--"

"This is exactly where I wanted to be," he interrupted, his voice dropping to that dangerous, gravelly register. "Watching you realize exactly what you’re about to surrender."

The harsh light of the lamp seemed to intensify the reality of the situation, making every detail of Mike’s imposing physique impossible to ignore. The air in Tyler’s room felt charged, heavy with the musk of arousal and the oppressive weight of Mike’s dominance.

Mike didn’t rise to meet her. Instead, he leaned back slightly on his palms, the muscles in his arms flexing with effortless strength.

"Don’t just stand there gawking like a virgin, Aveline," he commanded, his voice laced with a cruel amusement. "Get over here. On your knees. On the bed."

Aveline obeyed instinctively. Her legs felt heavy, her coordination compromised by the flood of dopamine and adrenaline coursing through her system.

The mattress dipped beneath her weight as she sank onto her knees, the golden bikini strings biting into her soft skin.

"Nnngh... ahh..." Each movement was punctuated by a small, involuntary sound of surrender.

As soon as she was positioned, Mike shifted. He stood up on the mattress beside her, the springs creaking ominously under his bulk.

Now, he was towering over her, a god of flesh and sin. Because of his position, his cock was directly at her eye level, swaying slightly with each minute movement of his hips.

Up close, the sheer scale of it was terrifying. The skin was stretched taut, dark, and mapped with thick, pulsing veins that looked like they could burst at any moment.

The head was swollen, glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the lamplight.

’N-no way...’ Aveline’s mind screamed, a frantic internal monologue that couldn’t keep up with her body’s reaction. ’This thing... how would it even fit inside me...?’

’Hahhh... ahh...’ The thought of that massive length stretching her to her limits sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to her clitoris.