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CHAPTER 29 : THE ESCAPE

Author: Déesse
last update publish date: 2026-02-26 00:36:05

DIANE

Liam's kiss isn't a submission—it's an explosion. His lips on mine are a wild claim, a silence finally erupting into a language far more eloquent than all his measured words. His hands, now imperious, leave my arms to sink into my hair, drawing me even deeper into the vortex of his surrender. I respond with equal fervor, my fingers clinging to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel the flesh and muscle beneath.

In one fluid, powerful motion, he moves us tow
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  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 81 : THE PRIMORDIAL WATERS 2

    DianeThe change in air pressure, the cold draft on the steam, even before the sound of the door. My eyes open.He is there, in the frame. A dark silhouette breaking the field of white steam. He says nothing. He watches.My whole body freezes, then, paradoxically, relaxes further. It has happened. The intrusion. It was inevitable. The escape into the water was only a respite, an illusion.I don't move. I don't try to cover myself. The water is cloudy, milky with steam. It veils me, without truly hiding me. I keep my head resting against the rim, my arms stretched along my body, submerged. Only my shoulders, the tops of my breasts, my neck, and my face emerge.I simply turn my head towards him. Our eyes meet through the mist.The tension is not a string being pulled taut. It is pressure increasing, like the steam saturating the air. It is in the stillness of his body, in the intensity of his gaze as it sweeps the room, then fixe

  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 80 : THE PRIMORDIAL WATERS 1

    DianeStillness has become intolerable. The silence of the room weighs, a lead lid pressing down on my thoughts. I need to move. I need to occupy this flesh envelope, give it a sensation other than the cold glass or the oppressive void.I get up, my joints stiff. I walk towards the bathroom, my steps absurd in this white desert.The bathtub. That porcelain sarcophagus. It sits, round, smooth, offering a promise of weightlessness. An immersion.I approach. My fingers brush the edge, cold as well. I turn the taps. A rumble, then a gush of hot water, scalding, creating instant mist on the vast mirror facing me. I let it run. The steam rises, enveloping, fragrant. The water smells neutral, a scent of algae and mineral deposited by an over-perfect filtration system. But it is warmth. It is movement.I turn to face the medicine cabinet, a two-way mirror. I look at myself. A pale woman with dark-ringed eyes, her chignon still impeccable but

  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 79 : THE SHADOW OF STONES 2

    DianeHe continues, arriving at a double door at the other end of the corridor.— My quarters.He pushes them open. The space is even vaster, but slightly darker. The tones shift from white-gray to anthracite gray. The bed is a low platform. An immense wall-to-wall bookshelf is filled with uniformly bound books—law, finance, history texts—arranged by size, creating a hypnotic pattern. A massive mahogany desk sits facing a panoramic window. It's the only room that bears a vague imprint, not of a personality, but of an activity: that of the predator planning.He closes the doors without inviting me to enter further.— And here is your room, he says, stopping before a door, two further down.He opens it.It's a near copy of the guest rooms, slightly larger. The same white bed, the same dresser, the same picture window offering a dizzying view of the park. The only difference: the bathroom has a frees

  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 78 : THE SHADOW OF STONES 1

    DianeThe front door, a massive block of dark wood and brushed metal, vanishes into the wall without a sound. The entrance that opens steals the breath from my lungs. It's a cathedral hall, of calculated coldness. The floor is polished mirror-gray marble, reflecting the glass and steel structure of the ceiling, ten meters above. White, bare walls rise toward this vault. The space is so vast, so stark, that our twin silhouettes standing within it seem an intrusion, a stain of imperfection.He stands slightly ahead of me, silent, letting the impression swallow me. He watches my face, I can feel it. I strive to show nothing, but my skin must be paling further under the raw, diffused light falling from the glazed skies. The air smells clean, neutral, a scent of air conditioning and cold stone. No smell of life, of wood fire, of wax, of cooking. Nothing.— There, he finally says, his voice echoing slightly in the void. The Glass Sphere. My lair.He begin

  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 77 : THE ENTRANCE

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  • Désiré Me 2   CHAPTER 76: THE SHADOW AND THE PREY

    Dimitri VolkovThe jet slices through the azure with the precision of a scalpel. I should be working. Reports from my captains in New York and London await. The night's financial flows need analysis. Yet, the file remains open, the numbers dancing meaninglessly before my eyes.My gaze is drawn, again and again, to her.Diane.Sitting on the other side of the teak table, she stares at the nebulous view through the porthole. She hasn't moved since she finished eating. Her profile is spectrally pale, sculpted from cold wax. The shadows under her eyes, purple on skin too fair, are like bruises left by the night. Her hands, placed flat on her knees, are absolutely still. She looks like she's no longer breathing.So fragile. The thought imposes itself, as unwelcome as a blade.I've crushed financial empires. I've broken men as hard as granite. I've watched rivals disappear from the face of the earth without flinching. Fragility has n

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