Milk Me, My Sugar (Black World Order)

Vanessa had always kept things under control—her schedule, her job, her image. A sophisticated, curvy woman in her late forties, she was admired, envied, even desired… but never truly devoured. Until he showed up. Roman didn't ask for attention—he commanded it. Tall, inked, and smooth-talking, he moved like he owned the world and carried himself like he could take a woman's breath with just a stare. When he walked into her life as a personal trainer at her new gym, Vanessa knew she should look away. But her body didn't listen. Their first encounter was innocent enough. Or at least it started that way. But Roman noticed everything—the way she adjusted her blouse, the slight catch in her breath when he leaned in, the way her eyes lingered on the bulge in his shorts. He wasn't just there to train her body. He was there to ruin her routine. And the moment she slipped, even just once… he'd remind her that every part of her—every soft, aching, neglected part—was his for the taking.