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Games Behind Closed Doors

Author: DB Novels
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-11 00:48:13

Chapter Seven

I didn’t know what I expected when he said, “Come to my quarters tonight.”

Maybe velvet sheets. Maybe chains.

Maybe to be fucked until I forgot my name.

What I didn’t expect was silence.

The kind that wrapped around you like a collar. Choked you softly.

His bedroom was nothing like the rest of the mansion. No gold. No crystal chandeliers. Just dark stone, cold floors, and heavy shadows that didn’t leave when the lamps came on.

He sat in a black leather chair, legs spread, wine glass in hand, watching me like I was already on my knees.

“Lock the door,” he said.

Click.

“Strip.”

I hesitated.

He raised one brow. “You want to play this game, Ardyn? Or are you just another little girl who begs for attention and runs when she gets it?”

I swallowed hard and peeled off my dress, inch by inch.

By the time I stood naked before him, I was shaking. Not from fear—but from the weight of everything unsaid. The knowledge that this was the moment I wouldn’t come back from.

He set the wine glass down and stood.

Every step he took made my pulse stutter.

He circled me slowly. Like a predator. Like someone savoring the fear and the heat radiating off my skin.

Then his hand wrapped in my hair, yanking my head back.

“You want to be ruined, don’t you?”

I whimpered. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you’ll learn to kneel when you ache, not speak.”

He dragged me to the floor and shoved two fingers into my mouth.

“Suck.”

I obeyed.

Not because I had to. Because I needed to. Needed to be used, needed to be claimed. Needed him to see me—not as a maid, not as a girl he rescued, but as something worth breaking.

He pulled his fingers free, wet with spit, and slid them between my legs.

“You’re soaked. Filthy little thing.”

His words made me wetter.

He pressed one finger into me—slow, deliberate.

I cried out.

“You think I’m cruel?” he murmured. “This isn’t cruelty, Ardyn. This is ownership.”

He fingered me slow and deep, thumb on my clit, watching me unravel in his lap.

But when I bucked my hips, desperate to come, he pulled away.

“Not yet.”

I gasped, hips lifting in protest.

He slapped my thigh. “Patience. Or I’ll leave you on your knees, untouched.”

My breath caught.

He dragged me to the bed, positioned me on all fours.

“Don’t move.”

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

He undressed behind me, and the sound of his belt sliding from the loops made my cunt clench.

Then—silk.

A blindfold.

Darkness took me.

Every breath, every sound became louder. Closer.

Then—warm breath on my inner thigh.

Lips.

A tongue.

He licked me slow and deep, arms wrapped around my thighs to keep me from moving.

I moaned into the mattress, toes curling, trying to keep quiet.

He didn’t let me.

“Let them hear how desperate you are,” he growled.

I came. Hard. Loud. Shaking under his tongue.

But I didn’t see his face.

I didn’t see the darkness in his eyes when he whispered, “This isn’t the end, Ardyn. This is where you begin.”

---

I woke sore and satisfied.

Alone.

My wrists were red from where he’d held them. My thighs were still slick.

He’d fucked me without fucking me. Controlled every second of my pleasure without giving me release on my terms.

And I was addicted to it.

I couldn’t meet his gaze at breakfast. Not with the memory of his mouth on me still fresh. But he didn’t look away.

His eyes said everything: You’re mine now.

---

Later that day, I cleaned the upstairs wing. One I hadn’t entered before.

At the end of the hallway, there was a door. Locked.

But it clicked when I touched it.

Inside: a dark, dusty room.

Old furniture. Boxes. And a massive, framed photo resting against the far wall.

I picked it up—and my stomach dropped.

That same woman.

Long black hair. Pale eyes.

And my face.

Same mouth.

Same hollow stare.

Who the hell had she been to him?

Lover? Victim?

Replacement?

The thought twisted something sharp in my chest. I wasn’t just obsessed with Caelum anymore.

I was obsessed with her, too.

Who she was.

Why I was here.

And why he looked at me like he’d already lost me once before.

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