The art studio is busy, the sound of pencils scratching against paper and brushes gliding over canvas, creating magic for the sight to behold. Sienna sits at her easel, her hands steady as she sketches the outline of a cityscape she saw on her way to class that morning. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows catches the flecks of paint on her smock, turning them into tiny bursts of color. With how she flows with precision, this is something she's passionate about. She dips her brush into a pool of cerulean blue, adding depth to the sky in her painting, but her mind is far from the work in front of her even though she's enjoying herself.Noah. Where is he? What is he doing? The thought is draining, pulling her focus away from the strokes of her brush. She bites the inside of her cheek, stealing a glance at her phone perched on the edge of the table. Nothing. No messages, no calls. She feels uneasy not knowing his whereabouts ever since he left last night.After what he
The day is nothing short of magical. Sienna loses herself in the charm of Paris, sketching by the riverside and soaking in the golden warmth. As she walks back to the apartment, her heart feels light, though an ache is beneath the surface. She’s always dreamed of a life like this—one filled with creativity, sunshine, and fleeting moments of bliss. But no matter how picturesque it seems, something feels incomplete. For her, the missing piece has always been family. A real one—messy, loud, loyal, and warm. It’s the kind of life she craves but has never quite grasped. As her thoughts wander, she catches herself, wondering if Noah ever thinks about things like that. Does he secretly long for simplicity? A loyal wife, happy children, and a business built on trust rather than power and control? The thought of Noah wanting something as ordinary as love and stability tugs at something deep within her. She pulls out her phone and calls Mia, her best friend’s familiar voice cutting through
From Noah’s meeting at the club last night, where his focus was completely shattered, he had more until the next day. Yet, the thought of Sienna dominates his mind, making it impossible to concentrate. Throughout the day, he endures a series of back-to-back meetings until late in the evening, but by the time he’s free, his thoughts are resolute—he needs to see her. When he arrives at her place and learns she isn’t there, disappointment briefly lingers, but determination takes over. He spends a long moment thinking about how to make the night special for her. Then it hits him—dinner. Sienna has always cherished homemade meals, seeing them as an expression of love. The problem is that Noah doesn’t know how to cook. Undeterred, he pulls up recipes online, watches YouTube tutorials, and convinces himself it’ll be enough. Now, here he is, shirtless and standing in a chaotic kitchen, the air is filled with smoke of his failed culinary attempts. The counters are wet, the floor slippery,
Noah steps into the bathroom, his movements unhurried, and returns moments later with a damp towel. He kneels beside the bed, his touch gentle as he begins to clean Sienna. His fingers brush her skin with a tenderness that makes her heart squeeze. She keeps her eyes averted, focusing instead on the way his brow furrows in concentration, his lips pressing into a determined line. "Let me know if it hurts," he murmurs, his voice soft yet steady. "I'm fine," she whispers, though her cheeks burn with emotions she can’t quite untangle. Once satisfied, Noah disappears into the bathroom again. She hears the sound of running water and the faint rustling of fabric. When he returns, clad only in his boxer briefs, she’s already dressed. Her back is to him as she smooths her shirt over her body. He pauses, a flicker of surprise in his expression, but he says nothing at first. His eyes soften as they meet hers. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you need something?" "I'm fine," she ans
Sienna spends the rest of the day focused on her sculpting, pouring every ounce of her energy and precision into the details. By the time she finishes, her professor stands speechless, circling the piece as if he’s examining a museum exhibit. “This,” he finally says, gesturing at the delicate grooves and the nuanced expressions she has captured, “is extraordinary, Sienna. The texture here,” he points to the folds of the subject’s clothing, “and the balance in proportion... it’s remarkable. I can’t wait to see the final result.” Sienna flushes at the compliment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Professor.” “Are you working on anything else?” he asks, still marveling at the sculpture. “I am,” she admits. “I’ve been sketching, painting, and drawing too. Just... experimenting.” He raises a curious brow. “Experimenting is good, but where do you see yourself specializing?” She hesitates. “I’m not sure yet. I want to try everything before I make that dec
Sienna steps into the hospital, her fingers curling tighter around Noah’s. She doesn’t want to let go, as if his presence is the reassurance she’s clinging to. The space is intimidating, with its marble floors gleaming under soft lighting and abstract art adorning the walls. This isn’t just a hospital—it’s a source of hope for the wealthy and connected. Her eyes dart to the grand chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, and her breath catches. It’s a far cry from the cold, impersonal clinics she’s used to. This leaves her wondering how many lives could've been saved if they could afford such a place, too?“This place…” Her voice trails off as her gaze flits from corner to corner. Noah glances down at her and squeezes her hand gently. “Only the best for you, Sienna.” She doesn’t respond, but a lump forms in her throat. She’s not used to this—having someone care enough to provide her with the best without having an ulterior motive.The feeling is foreign, uncomfortable, but also com
Sienna steps out of the bathroom, her skin still warm and dewy from the shower. Damp tendrils of her hair fall over her shoulders as she pads barefoot into the bedroom. Her gaze catches on the item lying atop the bed. At first glance, the fabric appears like ripples of the ocean captured in cloth—turquoise spirals and golden accents winding over a two-piece swimsuit. The bikini’s design is attractive to touch, with delicate threads shimmering under the bedroom light like sunlit waves. A small folded note sits beside it, stark white against the vibrant hues. "Wear it."Heat flushes her cheeks, and she glances toward the door as if Noah might be watching. The thought makes her lips twitch with shyness and anticipation. He always manages to leave her guessing. The idea of his plans sends a flurry of excitement through her. Quickly, she slips into the bikini, the fabric cool and soft against her skin. She lets her damp hair cascade freely, the waves still forming naturally as they dry.
The room is wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, the rhythmic hum of the ocean whispering through the open window. It's the kind of stillness that invites peace, but Sienna is anything but peaceful. Her breathing quickens, her limbs tangled in the sheets as her mind plunges into the nightmare once again.She is back in that dim, suffocating room, the air heavy with despair. The faint creak of the wooden floor beneath her feet echoes as she calls out softly, "Mom?" Her voice is tentative, almost breaking. The house is eerily silent, the kind of quiet that presses on her chest like a weight.She steps forward, her heart hammering as she reaches the doorway to her mother’s bedroom. The curtains sway lazily in the breeze, and that’s when she sees it—the silhouette. Her mother, swaying gently, lifeless, the coarse rope biting into her pale neck. “No!” Sienna’s cry tears through the oppressive quiet. Her legs feel like they’ll give out, but she forces herself forward, reaching for her mother. A
The King's estate is alive with music and laughter. Fairy lights dangle like tiny stars from every tree in the sprawling backyard. A small crowd has gathered to celebrate the arrival of Noah and Sienna's twins. The theme is unmistakable—soft blues for their son and delicate pinks for their daughter. Silk ribbons in both colors wrap around the columns of the grand patio, and tables are adorned with matching floral arrangements—roses, peonies, and hydrangeas carefully placed in crystal vases. A lavish archway stands at the center of the yard, crafted from intertwined blue and pink roses, where the naming ceremony is about to take place. Everything is perfect, elegant, yet deeply personal—just the way Noah insisted it should be. Sienna sits on a white chair beneath the arch, holding her twins, one in each arm. She’s radiant despite the exhaustion that comes with being a new mother. Her figure, still recovering, is wrapped in a simple but stunning dress of soft cream silk. Her bobbed
Seven months later, Sienna is standing on the brink of what feels like an emotional cliff, one that’s littered with equal parts joy and sheer panic. She’s not exactly sure how she’s made it this far, but somehow, she’s here—carrying twins, something that still doesn’t quite feel real. Despite the overwhelming support from Noah, his mother, and all the other people around her, there’s something deeply personal about these moments. They’re hers, and hers alone. But today, she’s about to share this experience with Noah in a way she never expected. Mrs. King had been a frequent visitor, popping by to help Sienna with anything and everything. From checking on her health to making sure she was eating properly, Mrs. King always knew how to show up and make Sienna feel cared for. It was more than just maternal instinct—it was love, pure and simple. Everyone showed her love and support, and Sienna was starting to feel more like a mother than she ever thought she could be. But today—today was
Sienna wakes up to the gentle caress of dawn’s light peeking through the curtains, her body swaddled in the luxurious silk sheets that seem to whisper sweet nothings to her skin. As she stretches, the soft fabric rustles, releasing the faint scent of Noah’s cologne, which lingers on the pillows beside her like a gentle reminder of his presence.She lies there for a moment, savoring the peaceful atmosphere, her mind wrapped in the serenity of the morning.But as the minutes tick by, the weight of her responsibilities begins to creep into her consciousness, gently tugging at her mind like a persistent whisper. With a soft sigh, Sienna kicks off the covers and swings her legs over the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air as she sits up.The bathroom beckons, and she rises from the bed, padding softly across the floor. As she passes by the mirror, she catches a glimpse of herself, her bobbed hair mussed from sleep, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of slumber.Noah had alrea
Ibiza had been a place of healing and renewal for Sienna and Noah, where they deepened their love and rediscovered each other. It was there that Noah proposed to Sienna once more, this time determined to give her the proper wedding they both deserved. Without hesitation, she said yes. Mrs. King had been overjoyed when they shared the news, eagerly announcing that she would invite all her favorite people to celebrate. And now, here they were, bringing that dream to life in Washington, D.C.Sienna couldn’t quite keep her hands steady as Mrs. King led her down the aisle. The older woman’s touch was warm, her arm a steadying anchor against the whirlwind of emotions crashing inside her. Mrs. King had offered to walk her without hesitation, and though Sienna had been reluctant at first, now she was grateful. With every step, she felt the weight of the moment settles in, the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead. The aisle stretched endlessly, a glistening path of white framed by cascading f
Sienna stands in front of the mirror, running her hands over the fabric of her black gown, a simple piece, knee-length, hugging her curves just enough to make her feel... seen. Not in the way she used to, when the world felt distant, but in a way that feels like she's finally back. She can almost feel herself, the woman she once was before all the chaos and the pain. She’s still her, but somehow more whole.She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, smoothing down any stray strands, and as she catches her reflection, she can’t help but smile. It’s a quiet smile, almost foreign, but it feels right. She’s not broken anymore. She’s healing, piece by piece. She’s getting closer to the woman she wants to be, and maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to accept that she deserves to feel it.The door creaks open behind her, and she doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. She feels his presence the second he enters. It’s like the room shifts, the air thickening with his energy, his magnetism.
The jet lands smoothly on the private runway, the scent of saltwater faint in the air as the engines wind down. Sienna steps into the aisle, stretching and shaking off the remnants of her nap. Her bare feet are cold against the polished floor, but her focus is on Noah, who stands ahead, adjusting the sleeves of his clothes. He glances back, offering her his hand. “Ready?” he asks, his voice low, steady. “For Ibiza? Always,” she replies, slipping her hand into his as they descend the steps. But as they approach the tarmac, her steps falter. Standing at the base of the stairs, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers and white roses, is a woman whose presence Sienna never imagined seeing here—Noah’s mother. Sienna’s smile freezes, her expression a polite mask even as her stomach knots. Leaning toward Noah, she whispers, “What’s your mother doing here?” The words come out light, almost playful, but there’s no hiding the tension in her voice. “She’s here to meet us,” Noah repli
Sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their bedroom, golden and warm, bathing the space in a serene glow. Noah King stretches lazily, the sheets pooling around his hips as his toned body catches the morning light. Sienna, lying on her side, watches him, her lips twitching into a grin. Even after a week of marriage, her attraction to him hasn’t dulled; it’s only grown sharper. “What will we do today?” she asks, her voice soft but curious, as though the day holds endless possibilities. Noah turns to face her, a sly smile curving his lips. “That depends. Are you planning to wake me up the same way tomorrow?” She laughs, her cheeks heating at the memory of this morning’s intimate wake-up call. “Maybe.” His golden eyes gleam mischievously as he swings his legs out of bed, pulling on a pair of well-worn jeans. The domestic ease of the moment makes Sienna’s chest ache in the best way. “We should pack,” he announces, fastening the button on his jeans. “Pack?” She
“Oh, my world, YES!” Sienna screams, coming before he’s halfway in. “Noah!” The fullness sends her over the brink. “Uhn! Feel you!” He shoves home, ripping another scream from her. And again. “You would’ve stolen my cum, just like that.” She writhes in her bonds as her orgasm consumes her, numbing her mind. . . . Once she finally falls limp, he bites out, “More?” His muscles quake against her. How badly he must need to come! “Yes!” she gasps. “I will always give you more.” He draws back his hips and grips her around the waist, widening his stance. He’s readying. She fidgets in her bindings. He looks like he’s about to ravage her, and there’s nothing she can do but take it. “Um, Noah—” He yanks her back along his cock while his body rams forward. He yells; she moans from the impact. His position, her position . . . she feels like a sexual plaything. "Maybe I have been missing out on so much," she thinks because the idea puts her right back on the brink. “Your body nee
Noah leads her further into the bedroom and pulls a remote control from his jeans pocket. With the press of a button, all the windows turn to mirrors. “It’s a type of smart glass,” he explains. “For full privacy when we have guests.” Sienna's mouth drops open, surprise etched on her face. "How did this get here?""I've always had this room waiting," Noah reveals, "waiting for the right time for us to explore it together. Sadly, you left before that could happen."Fascination and anxiousness swirl in her eyes. She's captivated by the mystery of this secret space. How did he envision such a place? What purpose did he intend it to serve? She tilts her head in admiration. “You do think of everything.” “It gets better.” He pushes another button, and the mirrors shift to screens, displaying the bed from multiple angles—even from above. “There are cameras in the bedroom?” she asks, her voice catching with a mix of shock and excitement. Sienna's gaze narrows, her mind racing. "You sa