Caitlyn had never despised herself more than in the moments she found herself lost in Desmond’s commanding grip, her body betraying her resolve as he led her to a shattering climax. Night after night, she succumbed to the allure of this enigmatic and devastatingly charming body, his touch igniting a fire she couldn’t extinguish. Desmond’s presence was intoxicating, his gentleness masking the dark power he held over her. In every corner of his sprawling, opulent house, he unraveled her, leaving her trembling, vulnerable, and raw. But their connection wasn’t born of love—it couldn’t be. This was a game of control, a tempest of desire laced with pain. If this wasn’t just a false start, if it was something real… could they have had a chance at something more? Could she have loved him, or was she forever trapped in his shadow? Caitlyn had never dared to entertain the thought. After all, Desmond wasn’t a savior. He wasn’t her salvation. He was a demon—a man who wielded both tenderness and torment with equal mastery. And no matter how fiercely she tried to fight him—or herself—she was losing. Desire. Fear. Possession. Could Caitlyn escape his grasp, or would she surrender everything to the one man who both destroyed and defined her?
View More“Are you giving me an answer or not?” Desmond’s voice snapped me out of my racing thoughts. I froze, gripping my phone tightly. How was I supposed to answer this? Agreeing to his twisted proposal felt like walking straight into betrayal, but the alternative meant leaving my mother to die. The lump in my throat grew tighter. I couldn’t speak. I ended the call, my hands trembling as I dropped it down. The weight of Desmond's words pressed against my chest. Betray Charles? How could I possibly do that to him? Despite everything, Charles had been there for me and my family in ways no one else had. My heart twisted painfully as I dialed his number again, praying he'd pick up this time. No answer. Frustration bubbled up, but I pushed it aside. There was no time to feel defeated. My mother’s life was on the line. Turning to the nurse nearby, I begged, “Please, can I make a call on your phone? And I'd prefer it if you'd speak on my behalf.” “About what?" She asked."I'll want you to
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and my chest tightened with dread. Did Desmond hear me? Or had he simply chosen to ignore me? I sniffled, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Mr. Linton,” I said again, my voice cracking. “Can you hear me? My mother’s life is in danger. Please, I need your help.” Tears streamed down my face, soaking into the phone pressed against my ear. The silence that followed felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. But then, it was broken—not by words of comfort, but by a sharp, cruel laugh. Desmond’s laugh was cold, mocking, and it cut through me like a blade. He laughed so hard I could picture the smug expression on his face. When his laughter finally stopped, he sighed theatrically. “Oh, well!” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The beggar needs my help again. What is it this time, Caitlyn? More medicine?” I flinched at his words, the humiliation burning my cheeks. “Not medicine, sir,” I managed through my sobs. “
I stood in the middle of the road, at the spot where Charles had abandoned me. The headlights of passing cars blinded me, and the weight of my anger hung heavy in the air. Both shame and embarrassment burned my cheeks as I held onto the hem of my jumpsuit tightly, pulling it down to cover my thigh. Shaking off the ache, I raised my hand to hail a cab. One stopped after what felt like an eternity. Sliding into the backseat, I muttered my address to the driver and rummaged through my purse for cash. I handed him what little change I had left, praying it would be enough. Luckily, he took it without complaint. When I finally got home, I headed straight to my room, my thoughts racing. I peeled off the jumpsuit, folding it properly into a safe space, so I could return it intact. I threw on a simple, breathable dress. The silence in the house was deafening. Charles’s voice still echoed in my ears, his accusations replaying over and over. But I couldn’t dwell on that now. I needed a dist
Before I could react to Desmond’s chilling words, Charles barked, “What do you mean by she’ll never stop working for you?” His voice boomed, bouncing off the walls like thunder. He tightened his grip on my hand, his anger barely contained. “I respect you, Desmond,” Charles continued, his voice sharp, “so I’ll take that as a mistake and let it slide.” He turned me around abruptly, dragging me with him. As we walked away, Desmond’s voice rang out behind us, slicing through the tension. “Caitlyn, walk out all you want. But bear in mind our deal. You still work for me.” My heart pounded violently in my chest. The words “our deal” echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the dirt I was buried in. Charles didn’t even look back. He was focused, determined to get me out of there, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me. The ride to my home was painfully silent. Charles drove with a clenched jaw, his grip on the steering wheel tight. I kept my eyes on the passing streets, de
Charles walked toward me, his steps measured, his eyes scanning me as if trying to piece together the chaos unraveling in front of him. The weight of his gaze made it impossible to look away. My body was stiff, my face flushed from the humiliation that still hung in the air, and my mind was screaming for an escape. I felt like a cornered animal. The murmurs around us continued, low and biting. I could feel the workers’ judgment piercing my skin. Every glance, every whispered word was a dagger. And then Charles’ voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Enough of the drama, everyone!” he shouted, his tone sharp and commanding. The entire room fell silent instantly, the air heavy with fear. “If anyone says one more word against her, they’ll lose their job. Try me!” The silence that followed was deafening. The power Charles exuded was palpable, and even I found myself frozen in place. I could barely believe what I’d just heard. My heart pounded, but it wasn’t fear this time—it
I barely noticed when Desmond emerged from the bathroom, looking pristine and annoyingly composed. He was fully dressed in a tailored suit, his cologne heavy and sharp enough to sting my nostrils. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone so polished could be so cruel.“There’s a closet in the bathroom,” he said coldly, his eyes barely meeting mine. “Find a dress of your size there, freshen up, and meet me in my office.”I blinked in confusion as he walked out of the room without another word. Why in the world did he have women’s clothes in his closet? The thought sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine. Still, I pulled myself together and went to the bathroom.After a quick shower, I rummaged through the closet. The dresses hung there were all too tight, too short, or too revealing. It was like picking poison. I finally settled on a tiny jumpsuit that barely reached my thighs. Tugging at the hem uselessly, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My legs were too exposed, but there wa
I froze, my breath caught in my throat, like a character in a paused video game. My heart pounded as I turned to Desmond, who hissed under his breath, “What the fuck does he want from me now?” His irritation was clear, but it did nothing to ease the tension gnawing at me. Desmond quickly pulled away, adjusting himself, and headed towards the door. I stayed rooted to the spot, fear and guilt tightening around me like a noose. “Yes, Charles?” Desmond replied, without opening the door, his voice calm. “Is everything okay, Desmond? You called me and didn’t say a word,” Charles said from the other side. “Oh! That was a mistake dial, Charles. I was trying to call one of my staff,” Desmond lied effortlessly. “Okay. But where’s Caitlyn?” Charles asked. Hearing my name made my stomach churn. My chest tightened as guilt coursed through me. The sound of Charles’ voice, warm and familiar, now felt like a sharp blade cutting through my conscience. How could I do this to him? Desmon
In the twinkling of an eye, Charles had picked Desmond's call, and I barely noticed at first because my mind was lost in disgust and despair as I was hating everything about this moment. I could hear Charles' calm and collected voice as Desmond had put his call on speaker. “Hello, Desmond.” Desmond was about to respond when something inside me snapped. I don’t know if it was anger, fear, or the sheer humiliation of the situation. But before I could even process it, I jumped forward, ignoring the pain in my bones. I stuffed his large cock into my petite mouth, licking and swallowing like I was an expert in what I was doing. I could feel his body tense in shock, then relax. A low, pleased moan escaped his lips. He ended the call abruptly, before Charles could hear him and tossed the phone aside. Grabbing my hair roughly, he pulled me closer, his grip controlling every movement. He moaned louder, clearly enjoying himself, while I fought back tears that threatened to spill over. I
He wasn't the only one shocked, I was shocked at my own words too. I hadn’t expected to shout at him like that, but something in me just snapped. Maybe it was anger. Or maybe desperation for something that felt right. How could he ask me to give him a felatio? And what made him think I would? We weren’t married, and he had no intention of marrying me. What kind of demon was Desmond? What in the world did he want from me? He was a demon in human clothing, and I couldn’t understand it. My mind was racing, but everything felt blurry. I had never felt so lost and trapped in my life.Desmond stood up, his expression still cold and calculating. He pressed his hands to my face, right where the tiny wounds were, and I screamed in pain. It burned like fire. “Never you talk about marriage with me again, you get that?” he snarled. “Don’t even dream of it. I’ll never marry a harlot like you!” I could feel his spit hit my face, and I recoiled, shocked by his cruelty. Desmond pushed me to the flo
CAITLYN'S POV I stood in the corner of the hospital room, my chest tightening as I watched my little sister, Claire, lying motionless on the bed. Her frail body was a pale shadow of the vibrant girl she used to be. The nurse's voice cut through the silence, sharp and clinical. “You need to get cyclosporine soon. Her pyoderma gangrenosum is aggressive, and without the medication, it could turn fatal.” The words "turn fatal" echoed in my head, leaving a lump in my throat. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bed as I nodded, too shaken to speak. “The medicine is rare,” the nurse continued, her tone softer this time, “You can only find it at The famous DLK pharmacy. It is difficult to obtain due to the production limit of the research and development company, and even our hospital is unable to do anything. But this is the only way to save your sister's life at present. ” Desperation clawed at me as I left the room. Within quarters, I made it to the DLK stores—but I couldn'...
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