로그인Content Warnings ⚠️ Violence BDSM elements Obsessive or possessive behavior Age gap Manipulation Physical fights/assault Torture and trauma (off-page) PTSD Rough sex Family relationships This isn't a sweet, soft love. If you aren't ready for a flawed, morally gray, obsessive character, skip. ~~~~ I started peeling off my clothes right there in the hallway, daring him to look. I wanted to see if the perfect brute my grandfather built has a breaking point. I wanted to see if he was actually human, capable of love, or just a puppet that follows orders. That was the first time I saw the mask slip. That was the night he stopped being my protector and became my predator. Now, we are locked together in a cycle of destruction where his obsession is my only reality. He would rather see me dead than in another man’s arms, and I’m too far gone to want anyone else. Running away from him is the safest option. But why run when his obsessive love is the only thing I'm used to?
더 보기ESME The sudden slack at my wrists makes my heart leap. The cuffs loosen, and then the tension on my shoulders finally vanishes. For a split second, I actually think he’s done with the torturing. I think the punishment is over... But... I’m wrong. He doesn't let me move. Before I can even pull my arms down, he grabs my waist and flips me over. I land hard on my stomach. "Lorenzo—" His weight is back on me instantly. He grabs my legs, forcing them to fold at the knees until my heels are pressed against my glutes. Then he uses fresh leather to tie my ankles securely to my thighs. I’m forced into a tight, helpless hunch and completely defenseless. Just my ass in the air. And blindfolded. He’s not finished. He takes my arms, pulls them behind my back, and ties my wrists together. My head sinks into the mattress. "Great. Pinned, folded like a lawn chair, and completely in the dark. You know, if your plan is to finally murder me, this is a lot of effort for a one-star
ESME He starts by peppering kisses along the line of my neck, trapping my body under his weight. He moves upward, with his lips trailing at my chin before he finally claims my mouth. Supporting my face with his palm, he nips at my lips—slow, torturous grazes that pull at my skin but never quite give me the friction I’m begging for. It's a half-kiss, a tease before he dives his tongue in. I'm finding it hard to keep up with his pace; he’s not giving me enough air or time to react. Meanwhile, his left hand is roaming my torso, slowly, agonizingly creeping under my bra. My toes curl against the sheets, digging into the mattress, fighting every urge to beg for the friction he's withholding. His tongue swirls in my mouth, sucking me and leaving me breathless. I start to strain against the restraints, pulling and yanking at them despite my wrists burning. I want to touch him, to feel the heat in his skin like he's doing in mine.God, this is agonizing. I thought this wouldn't feel l
ESMELorenzo drags me toward the car, opens the door, and guides me inside without a word, sparing me no glances."Where are you taking me?" I ask."Somewhere we can finally be alone." His expression hardens as he pulls away from the curb. "Since you were so quick to threaten me, I figured I might as well live up to the reputation.""What? I didn't—"The look he gives me sends a chill down my spine. Shit. Is Julian really a spy? I feel stupid. I went too far. But I had every right to suspect him. Right? Lorenzo always finds ways to sabotage my fake relationships. I naturally thought he had something to do with Julian's sudden departure.I sigh, looking out the window. "I'm... sorry—""Too late." Lorenzo’s grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are white. He stares straight ahead, his jaw set like granite."I thought you were sabotaging me again," I whisper. "You always do. You scare them off, you ruin the dates... I thought Julian was just another one of your games.""I d
ESME The Valentis were supposed to be a small-time nuisance. They were a local gang, little more than street thugs, so what does that have to do with Julian? Julian’s eyes go wide. "What? No. I don't know any Valentis! I don't know what you're talking about." "The tracker says differently," Mateo says, tossing a small, magnetic black box onto the dining table. It skitters across the wood and stops right in front of Julian’s plate. "This was tucked under the rear wheel well. High-end tech. The kind the Valentis use to shadow trucks before a hit." Judging from my dad's face, Julian isn't leaving here in one piece unless I do something. "He didn't know!" I shout, standing up. "Dad, look at him! He doesn't know anything!" "Sit down, Esme!" he roars, rounding the table. Julian, still confused, tries to push his chair away, but Mateo’s hands are already on his shoulders, pinning him down. "I swear, I don't know what that is!" Julian is crying now—real, ugly tears of te






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