Chapter 1: Embers in the Mirror

The woman Elena saw in the mirror in her bedroom was unfamiliar.

Thirty-eight years old, she was still curvy enough to please men and make their eyes linger on full breasts straining against the nightgown’s soft fabric. She had an ass molded hard from yoga sessions squeezed in when the house was empty.

Dark hair flowed down her back like a waterfall of oil, framing her olive skin and hazel eyes. Those eyes seemed to stare through the glass, searching for something she’d lost.

She was a divorced Latina mother. Her inner fire had been clogged with ashes for about two years now. Her ex-husband had taken it with him when he left, leaving her with a big house in the suburbs—most nights filled with silence.

Her son, Alex, was eighteen and out with friends. She was up late with a glass of wine, trying to ease her consciousness into a dream world.

Lately, her fantasies had grown bolder, more aggressive. Her tits hardened at the thought of a strong man roughing her up, and her pussy grew wet with excitement.

She’d done quick vibrator sessions in the dark for momentary relief. But she was left prickly and empty, longing for real physical touch—the hot actuality of another body claiming hers.

She imagined young, mighty men with the stamina to match her reawakened hunger. They’d devour her experienced form with their eyes. But couldn’t she be too old? No, her inner beast insisted: her sex was mature, hungry, and ready to be devoured again.

The house was vacant tonight. Alex had texted that he was staying at a friend’s. So it was all hers.

She poured a glass of Malbec. The flavor made her tongue sing as she draped herself over it like a lover’s mouth. Then she turned to her phone.