“Each time I touch you, you get tighter, sweeter. This body of yours is a drug and I can’t quit." His words were raw as he bit my thighs.His hand slid down, his fingers grazing my clitoral area, making my body jolt, heat exploding within me. My muffled cries fought the tight gag over my lips.He doesn’t slip a finger in yet but flicks my clit—relentless, precise—making my body tremble. The strap around my waist holds me down, shockwaves pulsing through me.Every time I try to close my legs, his grip holds me open, fingers digging in, pushing me closer to the edge.My bound hands jerked against the straps as his other hand found my breasts.“You look like sin laid bare, spread out, and needy. The best part? You’re only like this for me.”His breath grew heavier and faster like mine, his grip tightening, his body moving with no hesitation.I could barely see him, my eyes rolling back into my head, but I felt his hands moving fast as he stared at my pussycat, jerking to himself.“Today’
Blondes had always rubbed me the wrong way—icy, rebellious trouble. But Allison? She changed that. Her hair caught the light, her silver-blue eyes piercing through everything I thought I knew. She was ethereal, adoring—everything I shouldn’t want. And yet, in that instant, blonde became my favorite color.It was only in her presence that I realized a blonde could be beautiful. I traced her back, her body stirring slightly as though she recognized my touch, even in sleep. Her hair fanned across the pillow—magnetic, mine.I leaned closer, my voice soft with the kind of affection I hadn’t felt in years. “You’re in my veins, angel. The one thing I never saw coming.”My thoughts flickered back to earlier. Her face when she came. Forever burned in my memory.I sighed and pulled back, duty calling. I couldn’t afford to lose myself now.I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb her. The warmth of her body was addictive, but duty called. I picked up my phone, scanning the me
The dark weather and cold breeze that brushed Allison’s skin couldn’t ease the hurt buried in her chest. The sky hung heavy, casting a gray shadow over the cemetery.With her hands quivering as they grabbed the sides of her black dress, sixteen-year-old Allison stood at the edge of the grave, her eyes red and swollen from grief. It was a small coffin, as if its size mirrored how little time her mother had spent with her—just sixteen short years.Beside her stood her father, Mr. Blackwell, a man of rigid strength, yet even he could not mask the pain of losing his wife. He quickly wiped away a tear from his face. His other hand rested on Allison’s shoulder, a gesture meant to offer comfort, but she barely felt it. He awkwardly patted her shoulder again. He didn't quite know how to ease her sorrow or comfort her."I’m consoled you’ve gone to rest from this toxic world, but I'll forever miss you, my love," Mr. Blade whispered emotionally, but his words fell into the heavy silence that sur
"Do you, Allison Blackwell, take Dontrell Blade as your husband, in sickness and health, for richer or for poorer, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"“Yes, I do.” The words came out mechanically, a part of me still numb from everything that had happened. I had been kidnapped, tortured, and brought to this moment—standing before an altar, surrounded by people I barely knew, married to a man I hardly understood. As the priest spoke, I turned my head slightly, scanning the crowd. I searched for him. ‘Clayton’. But he wasn’t there. Where was he? Was he angry? Did he wish it were him standing beside me, taking my hand in marriage instead of his brother? A part of me wished he had been the one. But another part was relieved. Because Clayton, with his dark, unyielding eyes and the violent edge to his soul, was the one who had taken so much from me. ‘Dontrell’—his softer, quieter brother—had given me an escape, a way out of a life I feared would drown me. I had no choice in th
The plane landed with a smooth bump, and as I stepped up to the boarding door, the cool San Diego midnight breeze ruffled my hair. Dontrell’s large hand was warm as he took mine, lifting it to place a peck on it.“Let me guide you, my lady,” he murmured, his voice low, close to my ear. “I don’t want you tripping.”Without any more words, Dontrell led me down the plane's stairs, his hand still holding mine. His steps were sure and confident, and his presence was strong as I carefully followed behind. The bright glow of runway lights pierced the night and cast long shadows across the ground. At the end of the step, I was met with the warm grins of a gathering of youthful ladies and men dressed in savvy, blue outfits that made it clear they were part of Dontrell's domestic staff. Their modest appearance was a simple indication of the kind of life I was venturing into—a life where the simplest detail was carefully curated. I adjusted my Chanel bag, holding it tightly against my side. On
I woke up with a start, the coldness of the room hitting me before the alarm even had a chance to screech. My body always seemed to know when it was time, jerking awake moments before the loud, obnoxious beeping could ring in my ears. I grunted, reaching for my phone on the nightstand, and snoozed the alarm as soon as it started its irritating noise.I rubbed my eyes with one hand and my feet together simultaneously to shake off the chill from the air conditioning. The sting of the cold was brief—better than the oppressive LA heat. I propped myself up, resting my back against the cushioned headboard. Turning to my left, there she was—my wife, curled up like a cat, her wavy blonde hair scattered across her back, almost covering her entirely. She clung to the pillow like it was her last lifeline. But that didn't last long. Her face shifted, turning toward me. I couldn't help but notice her slightly parted soft lips and the slight flush of her skin from sleep. She was more beautiful tha
Our car swerved sharply into the compound, the tires crunching over the gravel as it came to a halt. The car parked near the entrance, just next to the circular driveway, where a majestic lion statue stood in the center, its fierce gaze directed toward the grand steps leading into the mansion.I stepped out and immediately felt the icy chill settle over me—the kind that was more than just a breeze, the kind that sank into your bones. It was the same compound they had brought me when they first kidnapped me—those memories felt icy against my skin, clinging to me. Dontrell’s hand pressed gently on my back as we walked forward.“It’s okay if you want to go back,” he murmured beside me, his voice soft but concerned.“No, I’m good,” I lied; my heart was thumping. The truth was, I wanted to be here with him, despite the dark memories tied to this place.As we reached the entrance, Dontrell stopped to pull me closer into his arms. "You know I love you, right?" he whispered, his breath warm a
The sensation of ice water dumped on my head jolted me awake abruptly with a gasp and a sputter as it streamed down my face and mingled with the sweat on my skin already glued in place by the heat of the room.My body spasmed as I struggled to breathe. Panic constricted my chest, and I blinked furiously, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Slowly, the spinning world came into focus—a dim, suffocating room with walls that seemed to close in on me. A shadow loomed overhead. The man’s massive frame eclipsed the faint light, his presence radiating menace. He tossed the empty bucket aside with a loud clang that echoed in the confined space. I tried to move, but the ropes binding my wrists to the back of the chair bit into my skin, holding me firmly in place. My breaths came in shallow bursts as I craned my neck to look up at him. "Oh, our damsel in distress is awake. No, wait—it’s Sleeping Beauty," one of the guards quipped, his sneer pulling laughter from the others. I blinked ra
Blondes had always rubbed me the wrong way—icy, rebellious trouble. But Allison? She changed that. Her hair caught the light, her silver-blue eyes piercing through everything I thought I knew. She was ethereal, adoring—everything I shouldn’t want. And yet, in that instant, blonde became my favorite color.It was only in her presence that I realized a blonde could be beautiful. I traced her back, her body stirring slightly as though she recognized my touch, even in sleep. Her hair fanned across the pillow—magnetic, mine.I leaned closer, my voice soft with the kind of affection I hadn’t felt in years. “You’re in my veins, angel. The one thing I never saw coming.”My thoughts flickered back to earlier. Her face when she came. Forever burned in my memory.I sighed and pulled back, duty calling. I couldn’t afford to lose myself now.I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb her. The warmth of her body was addictive, but duty called. I picked up my phone, scanning the me
“Each time I touch you, you get tighter, sweeter. This body of yours is a drug and I can’t quit." His words were raw as he bit my thighs.His hand slid down, his fingers grazing my clitoral area, making my body jolt, heat exploding within me. My muffled cries fought the tight gag over my lips.He doesn’t slip a finger in yet but flicks my clit—relentless, precise—making my body tremble. The strap around my waist holds me down, shockwaves pulsing through me.Every time I try to close my legs, his grip holds me open, fingers digging in, pushing me closer to the edge.My bound hands jerked against the straps as his other hand found my breasts.“You look like sin laid bare, spread out, and needy. The best part? You’re only like this for me.”His breath grew heavier and faster like mine, his grip tightening, his body moving with no hesitation.I could barely see him, my eyes rolling back into my head, but I felt his hands moving fast as he stared at my pussycat, jerking to himself.“Today’
My wrists were bound above my head, leather straps biting into my skin as I struggled. He circled me, his dark eyes devouring me. The solitary pole left me exposed, my naked body glowing under the fiery red light."You’re trembling," he said, stopping before me, his voice dripping venom. "Is it always like this, or just when I’m about to ruin you?"I bit my lip, refusing to answer, though my body gave me away.He stepped closer, his hand encircling my throat, the pressure a seductive command. "Speak."I don’t know," I stammered, my voice cracking."Liar," he said, gripping my jaw and forcing my eyes to his. "Don’t lie, Dove. Be good, and maybe Daddy will go easy on you."He stroked my cheek before pressing a gag to my lips. “Open,” he commanded. I obeyed without hesitation, parting my lips as he slid the ball gag into place and fastened it tightly. My muffled sounds only heightened his control, and he smirked as he stepped back to admire his work. In his hand, he held a black leather
The room felt suffocating as I slid my fingers along her wet heat, feeling her pulse race. I kissed her hard, urgently, as the table groaned beneath us. My hands roamed her body, deliberate, unrelenting. She gasped, but I silenced her, swallowing the sound with my mouth on hers.“You’re mine tonight," I growled, stepping closer.Her breath hitched. "I don’t—""Shh." I cut her off, my fingers brushing her neck, feeling her pulse race. "Fear’s just part of it. You’ll learn to love it."She swallowed, eyes wide, but something in her gaze shifted—curiosity or something darker. I could already feel her slipping, inch by inch, into submission.Tonight, I’d break every boundary she didn’t even know existed.Her body arched as I touched her clit, her breath quickening. “I warned you what it would mean to be at my mercy," I growled, my voice rough.Her eyes widened, but I saw the shift in her."Don't fight it," I added, watching her body tremble, giving in.She didn’t speak, but her movements
“I don’t know what you mean.” I snapped, attempting to push past him, but he moved faster, blocking my every move. His body towered over me, his cold blue eyes piercing mine with predatory intensity.You’re avoiding me, Dove,” he growled, his voice like a blade. “Tell me what I want.”His tone rumbled like thunder, shaking me to the core, heat pooling between my legs, a maddening ache I couldn't ignore.“I…I didn’t say anything important,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady, but the tremor gave me away. His lips twitched into something darker, stepping closer, his heat suffocating. “What did you say behind my back?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, darker. “Don’t worry, Dove. I won’t bite…” He leaned in until his breath fanned against my forehead, sending direct signals to my cunt. “Not unless you beg me.” I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. My lips parted, but no sound came out; a part of my brain kept reminding me that talking whi
The sunlight filtered through the drapes, casting a soft glow on the room. From here, the world below felt distant. The sprawling compound below was perfectly ordered, each detail screaming meticulous control—Dontrell’s control. Beyond the compound, houses stretched out like scattered chess pieces, barely visible through the morning haze. I turned, my feet brushing the foot carpet. The faint scent of his cologne—woodsy and dark—lingered in the air. My gaze caught on the nightstand, and my breath faltered. A bouquet of black roses whose velvety petals looked like midnight whispers lay there. Nestled among them were a pair of sleek black heels and a new Birkin bag. A crisp note rested nearby, his handwriting slanted and bold. I reached for it, my fingers trembling, as if the simple act of reading it could undo me. "To the angel who turned my night to chaos and beauty, I owe you not just an apology but the world. I’ll replace anything you’ve lost—even the pieces of yourself you thin
I shoved my father harder against the car, the metallic thud echoing through the air as his back hit the frame, but it didn’t satisfy the rage boiling inside me. His smirk—the same one I’d now found myself resenting—mocked me even now, a taunting reminder of how far he’d go to destroy anyone who defied “Go on, boy. Do it," he sneered, his voice calm despite the strain in his throat. "Prove you’re no different than me."My forearm pressed harder against his neck, and for a split second, I contemplated doing exactly that. But killing him now wouldn’t satisfy me—it would only make me like him. I needed him to live long enough to feel the weight of what he’d done.I released him, shoving him harder one last time. The car shook under the force, and he coughed. For a moment, I wondered how a man his age—almost seventy—still dared to meddle in all of this. He wasn’t as strong as he once was, but his cunning made up for it. “Don’t mistake this for weakness,” I growled, locking eyes with him
The engine of the car roared as I sped through the thick forest, the tires bumping over uneven terrain, branches scratching against the sides of the vehicle. I could barely see through the windshield; the darkness of the woods swallowed up everything around me. Andrew sat in the passenger seat, silent as always, I could see that he was dying to ask questions, but he didn’t. Not a word. I knew he wanted to know where we were headed, and what we were doing. But he was quiet.The acronym *GDL* rang in my mind. *The Godfather’s Legion*.This was no ordinary group. My father’s men—trained criminals, assassins, and deadly people from all over the world. Men who swore oaths of secrecy and loyalty to him. They fought for him, killed for him, and, if need be, they’d die for him. The GDL was for matters that couldn’t get traced back to my father. When he wanted something messy done, he’d call them in.Andrew shifted, his gun clicking as he holstered it beside him. His attention stayed on the g
“Who the hell are you?” My voice shook, sharper now, fueled by fear and adrenaline. My mind raced, grasping for answers. There was something disturbingly familiar about him—his voice, his posture, even his towering presence. It rattled me more than the mask he wore or the weapon I knew he probably carried. Did I know him? Could I trust him? No. Not here.He stepped closer, and with one swift motion, I brought out the scissors, aiming them directly at him.“Stay back!” I spat, lifting the scissors higher and pointing them directly at his chest. “I’m not afraid to use this!” My fingers trembled, betraying my bravado, but I refused to lower my guard. His voice was low, mocking. “Drop the damn scissors before you hurt yourself.” He moved toward me again, deliberate and unrelenting. I mirrored his steps, my back legs brushing the edge of the bed as I kept the scissors pointed at him. “If you’re so fucking bold,” I snapped, my voice rising, “take off the mask and face me like a man, not a