fathiaowolabi72の小説

~Bianca's POV~The cuffs dug into my wrists, metal pressing against my skin, blood ebbing slowly. My legs trembled where they were bound, spread wide, muscles cramping from both the heels and the position. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.I was helpless. Bare. Burning.Damien stood a few feet away, his shirt discarded, exposing inked muscle and arrogance carved into every inch of him. His gaze devoured me—slow, possessive, devastating. No longer the cold, calculating monster in a tailored suit.He was something else now, and I was his offering.He came forward without a word, his palm dragging up the inside of my thigh—teasing, claiming, spreading the slick already glistening there.A whimper escaped my lips, small and broken, but he didn't speak, his silence was its own form of cruelty."You ache," he murmured. "I can smell it."My throat seized as his fingers trailed downward—between the curves of my breasts, along the dip of my waist, until they hovered over the soaked str

Chapter 15: You Are Mine.~Bianca's POV~The room looked like a velvet-covered nightmare.Dark red walls flickered with shadows, and chains shone under the warm lights, sharp and ready. Leather straps hung in neat lines—some thick, some thin—each one hinting at pain or control. A large X-Cross stood at the far wall with straps at each each, surrounded by shelves filled with gags, ropes, cuffs, and clamps, all laid out like they belonged in a shrine to power and submission.It carried the scent of leather and musk. Of power and sin.A red room.Every inch dared me to kneel.My heels sank into a plush carpet, and my chest tightened. This wasn't just a space—it was an invitation and a warning, a place built to strip you down, body and soul.Then I saw Damien standing by a tall mirror, no longer in a suit but in a white shirt, half unbuttoned to reveal golden skin and the sharp cut of his chest. Dark pants clung to his hips, and he was barefoot, at ease.Dangerous. He looked like he belon

~Bianca's POV~The silence in the car had teeth.For five whole minutes, Damien sat across from me, legs crossed, phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen like I wasn't even there. Like he hadn't just detonated my entire life and walked away without a scratch.The air felt thick, not just with tension but with velvet-wrapped control. Power hummed from the leather seats, the dark panels, and the unopened champagne nestled in the console. Every inch of the vehicle whispered: Obey.I didn't move, my jaw locked and shoulders squared, as my gaze lingered on the details, but all I could feel was the pressure building inside me.Then finally, I broke the silence."So now that you've gotten what you wanted… do I get what I asked for?"His thumb paused mid-scroll, and he slowly lowered the phone, eyes lifting to meet mine. A flicker of amusement danced at the corner of his mouth. "Which is?"I clenched my fists. "What I said this morning. At your company. Don't pretend you don't remember."He t

~Damien's POV~I haven't felt this alive in years.Not even when Herman shipped me off to Europe, convinced that military-grade discipline could burn the fire out of me. The cold showers, the brutal drills, and the endless boardroom simulations. All of it meant to scrub away the rage and shape me into something useful.It worked for a while until I saw Bianca Calloway again, and every buried ember roared back to life. First, at the cemetery, where she started rambling—regret, wrong choices, sorrow pouring out like a confession no one asked for. I dropped her off and drove away. I should've left it at that, buried the past, like everyone always says.But then she walked into my meeting.Begging.Asking for help to bring down her husband using my company—my resources. She said Nathan was responsible for her father's death. That he'd ruined everything.That's when it stopped being coincidence.This was opportunity.What were the odds that I'd come back to New York and run into the woman

~Bianca's POV~His breath ghosted across my cheek—warm, steady, and far too intentional.I couldn't move with my back pinned to the marble, Damien's body boxing me in like a wall I couldn't climb. My heart thundered against my ribs, every instinct screaming to run, yet my body refused to obey."What… what are you doing?" I finally asked, my voice more breath than sound.He arched a brow like the question was amusing. "What do you think I'm doing?" he murmured dangerously. "Didn't you offer yourself to me this morning like a common slut?"The word sliced through me, making me flinch. Heat and shame collided inside me, but I forced my chin up. "I did what I had to do," I snapped, "don't mistake that for interest." I shoved at his chest but he didn't budge. "And I haven't agreed to anything yet, so you have no right to corner me like this. Especially at a dinner hosted by my husband."That word—husband—tasted sour.Damien didn't move one bit. He just stared down at me, studying me like a

~Bianca's POV~The chandelier lights shined across the glossy marble floors, painting a soft golden glow over the living room-turned-dining-hall. At the top of the staircase, I stood with my arm threaded through Nathan's. My royal blue silk dress hugged every curve, the fabric whispering elegance and control.Cameras flashed. The press lined the entrance like vultures in designer suits, hungry for scandal. Below, laughter rose and fell over the clinking of glasses.Nathan leaned in, his voice smooth with performative affection. "Smile, darling."I did. Or something close enough.The MC's voice boomed over the soft classical music. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome tonight's gracious hosts—Nathan and Bianca Hayes!"Polite applause erupted as we descended the staircase with poised steps—he, the polished businessman; me, the picture-perfect wife. But only one of us knew the truth behind the mask.The dining table stretched long, dressed in gold-rimmed china, crystal goblets, and silv