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Her lips taste's sweeter.
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2024-11-29 12:35:34When they finally returned to the Cross Empire estate, the line of luxury cars that had been parked earlier because of the party had already cleared out. It had been hours since they left, and Sherryl felt drained.
True to his word, Dallion had her seated in front of a polished chessboard, its black and white pieces gleaming under the warm light of the room. He patiently explained the game to her, taking his time to go through the basics. Despite his reputation for being short-tempered, he surprised her with how thoroughly he taught her, making sure she understood the moves. He left the room briefly, and by the time he returned, Sherryl was slumped over the edge of the board, her arm stretched out and her breathing steady. Her body remained stiff, as if ready to spring awake at the slightest noise. Closing the door quietly, Dallion approached the board and began putting th
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Last Updated : 2024-11-30The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. much to discuss
Sherryl walked to the edge of the leather couch, sitting down as the weight of her foster uncle and aunt's betrayal bore down on her. The thought that no one she had trusted as her family could be trusted left her feeling adrift. Her father had disappeared, her mother was gone, and now the only relatives she had left had sold her out. Across the room, Dallion leaned against the marble-topped bar, his piercing gaze fixed on her. His expression, unreadable yet intense, studied her carefully. “Are you alright?” Dallion asked, swirling a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Though his voice was calm, there was an underlying sharpness, as if he already knew her answer. “I’ll be okay,” Sherryl replied, drawing in a deep, shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "People like them aren’t worth a second thought,” Dallion said, setting the glass down wi
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Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his expression almost mocking. “A fair question, little mouse. Life would be dreadfully boring if I skipped the theatrics every time. There are moments when it’s necessary to walk among the shadows, to breathe in the grit of this city. Skipping steps makes you lose touch. Besides…” He paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. “I enjoy the convoy rides. It’s the perfect time to plan moves, strategize... or just reflect.” “But there are limits,” he added, his tone dropping, the shift in his demeanor palpable. “Limits?” Dallion nodded, his expression growing serious. “The Time required to satisfy my need in settling accounts is immense. Blood is the fuel for such a gift. And let’s just say…” He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming as his voice dropped to a whisper, “…finding the right accounts I need from my debtors isn’
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Sherry Rain’s uncle, who had only just stepped inside, froze mid-step, his mouth opening but failing to form words. His expression mirrored the one her aunt, May, had worn upon seeing Sherry appear at their door, an uneasy combination of shock and guilt. They hadn’t expected her, and it was clear they had sold her. Sherry clenched her fists, questioning why she had agreed to come here, even with the gut feeling she’d had about what transpired the day she was sent to the Cross empire’s underground auction. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about, mister," her uncle, Larry, stammered, his voice faltering as Dallion shifted his cold, predatory gaze to him. Larry's throat bobbed as he gulped nervously but continued his charade. “Where have you been all this time? When we came back, you weren’t there… we assumed you ran off.” The man’s obliviousness to the barely veiled threat Dallion had issued to May earlier made his
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They left after Sherryl had settled scores with her foster family, in the car Dallion kept on staring at Sherryl something she found too odd. She knew Dallion loved looking at her face but not to the extreme he was looking at her at the moment. "Do you think I did something bad to them? Like I'm being unfilial to them?" She brushed her brows before looking at Dallion who was engrossed in looking at her. " I think I just got back at them for what they did to me, but I feel like a fool by stooping to their level." Sherryl didn't get any response from Dallion , not like she was expecting any answers from him anyway, she silently moved closer to the window and focused on the scenery outside, when they arrived at the mansion Dallion took her hand into his and led her. Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. as he looked at Sherryl closely, it seemed like they had arrived. This was another territory Sherryl had no idea of in the vast mansion of the Cross family. "True enou
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Sherry's heart thundered in her chest as if she were prey, and the predator before her was ready to devour her completely. She swallowed hard, the soft glow of red lights in the room casting ominous shadows on the walls. Dallion’s voice was as smooth as dark velvet, low and commanding. “What’s got you so scared, little mouse?” “It’s going to hurt,” she whispered, the idea of his tools cutting through her barriers spiking her fear. He smirked, leaning closer, his towering frame enveloping her as he braced one hand on the leather-padded wall beside her head. “Do you know, Sherryl Rain? Even pain can turn into pleasure.” Her throat bobbed nervously. “The person must be a true masochist to think pain is a pleasure,” she shot back, trying to mask her trembling voice with forced confidence. A dark hum rumbled from his chest as he studied her, the corner of his lips quirking. “If you haven’t experienced it, you haven’t lived at all. Don’t be so tense.” His voice dipped lower as his fing
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The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I need a taste
When an unintended sigh slipped past her lips, it only seemed to fuel the fire already burning in Dallion’s touch. His grip on her tightened, his heart beating steadily, his eyes alive with something dark and dangerous. His control was slipping, and he knew it. Without another word, his teeth extended, sharp and eager. "I need a taste," he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. Before Sherryl could react, Dallion sank his teeth into the side of her neck. Her skin was —warm, rich, intoxicating, it was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. It made him wonder if it was because of who she was, something about her making it more potent, more addictive. It was like drinking from something rare, something otherworldly. Dallion never cared for attachments, never let himself be bound to anyone. He had always been clear about that. Women came and went, serving a purpose but never staying long enough to matter. But ever since he had laid eyes on
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. i don't share... little mouse
Sherryl stared at him. Was she imagining things, or was Dallion actually jealous? The thought alone sent an odd, fluttery feeling through her stomach, one she didn’t quite understand. "I don’t share, little mouse," Dallion said smoothly, as if reading her thoughts. "Did you really think I’d be fine with you standing on a stage, under bright lights, with hundreds of eyes fixated on you?" His tone was calm, but the possessiveness in it was unmistakable. He leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Do you want to know when and how I fell for you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I think it’s time I told you properly." Sherryl’s heart pounded. "I think it’s okay if you don’t," she blurted out, already anticipating the embarrassment that would follow. Dallion clicked his tongue. As she raised her hands to push him away, he caught them effortlessly, pinning them against the bed with a smirk.
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Sherryl, still quietly eating her apples, wished she could finish quickly and leave as well. Every meal in this house felt like a battlefield, tension thick in the air. She continued eating as discreetly as possible. Then, his father spoke. "You should stop spoiling the girl, Dallion. Your sister is right. We don’t want you being manipulated." His cold gaze flickered toward Sherryl, and she felt a lump form in her throat. "There have been plenty of cases where a simple girl like this has twisted her owner into doing unspeakable things—even wiping out their own family just at her word. And we both know you’ve already had your fair share of experience with betrayal." Dallion’s smirk didn’t falter. "Don’t worry, Father. I care about my family too much to kill them. Well… at least you and Grace. The rest? I can’t make any promises." His eyes drifted toward his younger half-sister. Rose’s expression darkened,
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Here’s the revised version with the name changes.In the grand estate of the Cross family, the evening air was thick with the promise of an impending storm. The sky remained overcast, and a biting wind whispered through the halls. With winter creeping closer, the temperature had plummeted to an unforgiving low. If not for the warmth provided by the mansion’s insulated walls and flickering fireplaces, those unaccustomed to such cold would have perished.For the staff working in the Cross estate, survival was a luxury they didn’t take for granted. The grand halls and well-kept quarters provided a stark contrast to the bleak streets they might have otherwise called home.As the evening descended into dinner time, Dallion Cross and Sherryl Rain made their way into the dining room. Plates were brought out by silent staff, each movement practiced and precise. Sherryl, however, found herself staring at what was placed before her—a thick slab of raw meat, still red wit
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Dallion studied her intently, his sharp eyes reading every flicker of doubt on her face. But he still answered, "You said you walked there because riots had blocked the main road. You took a different route and eventually found him. Later, you mentioned bringing him back, but by then, it was too late. Your mother’s condition had already worsened. What’s going on, Sherryl? Speak." His voice was firm, demanding. There was an unsettling confusion in Sherryl’s eyes as she tried to piece together the past. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "If my mom could still be alive… does that mean she would allow me to look for him?" Dallion exhaled deeply, his expression unreadable. "Yes."He didn't want to give her false hopes, he knew her father left them and he was sure her mother wouldn't have allowed her to look for him. Sherryl nodded slowly, but she wasn’t convinced. If her father had left only to return years later, what
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Dallion held her closer, his grip softer now, unlike before. His hands weren’t restraining her wrists anymore—they were holding all of her, as if anchoring her. It wasn’t just his touch that had changed, but his voice too. It was calm, quieter than usual when he spoke. “Tell me, Sherryl. Do you find it difficult to trust someone with your feelings?” His words were firm yet patient. “You do realize I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s going on?” Something had shifted in her. He had noticed the change immediately. Moments ago, she had been fine—her pupils had been dilated, her breathing slightly unsteady—but then, suddenly, she had gone still. Her heartbeat had steadied unnaturally fast, and her eyes had turned hollow, like she was somewhere else entirely. There was only one conclusion Dallion could come to. Had someone touched her before? Her voice was low when she finally answered. “It’s nothing serious.” Slowly, Dallion loosened his hold but didn’t let her mo
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Sherry barely had time to process the overwhelming sensations before her legs gave out. With a strangled yelp, she toppled sideways, arms flailing—only to land in an ungraceful heap on the floor.Dallion stared down at her, blinking. Then, slowly, a smirk curled his lips. “Well, that’s one way to show appreciation.”Sherry groaned, hiding her burning face in her hands. “I hate you.”“I know.” He crouched beside her, entirely too amused. “But if you were going to throw yourself at my feet, you could’ve at least done it with some dignity.”Bluebeard Lady chuckled from her corner. “She’s a fast learner. Even her falls are dramatic.”Sherry shot them both a murderous glare as Dallion effortlessly scooped her up. “Put me down!”“Not a chance,” he said, carrying her outside like she weighed nothing.The drive back to the Cross’s mansion was filled with Dallion’s teasing remarks—each one met with Sherry’s grumbled threats. But
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. You're mine to teach.
The tent’s lanterns flickered softly, casting golden light over velvet drapes and aged artifacts. The scent of incense thickened the air, mingling with something more primal—the slow hum of anticipation.Sherry sat in the center of the room, wrists bound in silk, the smooth fabric a whisper against her skin. The ties weren’t meant for struggle, but for awareness—of herself, of the watchful presence behind her, and of the woman before her.Bluebeard Lady circled her like a patient instructor, a delicate silver chain swaying between her fingers. “Restraint,” she murmured, “isn’t about holding back. It’s about extending sensation, drawing it out until it becomes something unforgettable.”Sherry swallowed hard, feeling the heat of Dallion’s gaze from his seat across the room. He had yet to speak, but his presence was a force in itself—a quiet command.The woman knelt before Sherry, her fingers ghosting over her skin, feather-light. Even with
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Beginning to understand
Sherryl Rain kept her head low, focusing on the lesson, even though she knew how rare it was for someone of Grace’s status to take the time to educate a mere servant. Most high-ranking figures in the Cross Empire saw little value in teaching those beneath them. Grace glanced at the worn parchment in front of her before turning her cold gaze to Sherryl, the little mouse that belonged to Dallion. “We’ll stop here for today,” Grace decided, stretching as she closed the book. “I need to take my mother and sister out to the Valley. Would you like to come?” The offer sounded casual, but Sherryl could hear the subtle test in it. “Ever been there before?” Sherryl gave a slight nod. “Master Dallion is taking me somewhere today.” A truthful excuse, but also a way to avoid the suffocating tension she’d have to endure with Grace and her ever-judgmental sister. Without pushing for details, Grace dismissed her, and Sherryl exhaled a brea
