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Chapter 129 : Return to the Shadows
publish date:
2026-04-14 20:31:00LORENZO
Three days. Three days of pure paradise in that isolated villa, where time suspended itself on our intertwined bodies. Aurélie revealed herself to be an insatiable lover, receptive to every caress, every glance. Morning, noon, night – on the beach, in the pool, against the walls, on the breakfast table. Her tight body, her moans, her dazzling beauty made me addicted. She is perfection incarnate: sculptural curves, silk skin, green eyes that pierce me
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Désiré Me 2 Chapter 130 : The Golden Months
LORENZOTwo months. Two months of absolute bliss in our Tuscan palace. The companies run themselves without me—virtual meetings, competent directors—because my world is here, with her. Aurélie, my goddess, prefers the quiet of the estate: she redecorates the living rooms with exquisite taste, orders Italian furniture, jewels for her perfect skin. I encourage her: spend without counting, it's our money, for our nest. But above all, take care of me. Of us. Every evening, I come home, find her in fine lingerie, ready to welcome me. She is receptive, in love, her body a fire that never goes out.Mornings begin with her warm body against mine. I wake her by penetrating her gently, her moans filling the suite. She always opens, tight and wet, gripping me like a velvet vise.— Buon giorno, amore... already?— Always for you.She undulates, rides my hips, her breasts dancing under my hands. I come deep inside he
Désiré Me 2 Chapter 129 : Return to the Shadows
LORENZOThree days. Three days of pure paradise in that isolated villa, where time suspended itself on our intertwined bodies. Aurélie revealed herself to be an insatiable lover, receptive to every caress, every glance. Morning, noon, night – on the beach, in the pool, against the walls, on the breakfast table. Her tight body, her moans, her dazzling beauty made me addicted. She is perfection incarnate: sculptural curves, silk skin, green eyes that pierce me with possessive fire. The most desirable, the most beautiful, I repeated to her a thousand times, and she would blush, give herself more fiercely. My sperm marked her everywhere, in her, on her – the seal of my absolute love. Happy? I was a god.But the honeymoon ends. The helicopter lands us on the private helipad of our estate, a vast residence nestled in the Tuscan hills. The main villa stretches over hectares: infinity pools, French-style gardens, wings for guests, and our princ
Désiré Me 2 Chapter 128 : The Shadows of Pleasure
AURÉLIEThe hot water streams over us, a burning veil that erases the traces of the night without washing away the filth inside me. Lorenzo holds me against him, his large, possessive hands sliding over my soaped skin. His fingers, gentle now, explore with a tenderness that repulses me as much as it traps me. He murmurs Italian words against my ear.— Bellissima... perfetta... mia per sempre.I close my eyes, feign surrender, and let my body respond – a shiver, a stifled moan when he brushes the sensitive spot between my thighs. He thinks it's pleasure. For him, it is. For me, it's a macabre performance, one more mask to wear.He makes me come in the shower, or at least, he thinks he does. His expert fingers circle, insist, and I contract my muscles, arch my back, cry his name in a broken voice. My body betrays my mind: a treacherous wave rises, not of love, but of pure, animal friction. I bite my lip until it bleeds to ke
Désiré Me 2 Chapter 127 : The Poisoned Embrace
LORENZOShe is there, curled against me, her skin still feverish against mine. Her breathing is calm now, rhythmic like a tide settled after a storm. I run my fingers through her tangled hair, damp with sweat, and I feel my heart swell with a joy so pure it's almost painful. Dio mio, she is perfect. My Aurélie, so tight, so receptive, as if her body had been shaped for mine alone. Yesterday, with Béatrice, it was good, raw, animal, but this. This is something else. A divine connection, a fire that consumes me and rebuilds me at every moment.I hold her tighter, my arm around her slender waist, possessive. She doesn't move, inert but warm, and this complicit silence drives me mad with happiness. "My wife," I murmur again, the words heavy with triumph. She is mine. Completely. Her virgin body, or what remained of it, opened for me, welcomed me with an eagerness that surprised me, electrified me. Every contraction around me, every stifled moan,
Désiré Me 2 Chapter 126 : The Awakening of the Masks 3
AURÉLIEHe accepts. He is gentle, as promised. Cautious, patient. He seeks, guides with an exasperating and delicious slowness. The pressure at my entrance becomes insistent, almost questioning, then forthright, determined.The pain is a white flash. Brief, sharp, blinding, a burning knife that splits me in two. A high-pitched moan, utterly authentic, escapes my throat, muffled by the pillow. A sound I don't recognize, the sound of a wounded animal.He stops immediately. His whole body tenses, on alert.— Are you okay? Dio mio, Aurélie, are you okay?His voice is a hoarse whisper, laden with a concern that wrenches my heart horribly, fills me with a shame so deep I feel nauseous.I nod frantically, my eyes squeezed shut, tears of pain and emotion seeping from under my lids.— Yes. Yes, continue. Please.He resumes his movement. Slow. Deep, with a calculated slowness that makes every milli
Désiré Me 2 Chapter 125 : The Awakening of the Masks 2
AURÉLIEThe waiter enters, pushing his silver cart. Neutral smile, gaze that sees nothing, fixed on a point above our shoulder. The clinking of silverware, the whisper of fine porcelain on the marble tray. Then the smell. Fresh coffee, acrid and powerful. Warm butter, almost caramelized, sweet raspberry jam. The clean, comforting smell of toasted bread. It invades the room, attacks the other smell, the carnal, nocturnal one, gradually covering it. It's a physical relief. I can breathe again without my stomach heaving.Lorenzo has sat up, the sheet pulled up around his waist. He watches the scene, amused, his eyes still heavy, but a gleam of appetite shines there, directed at the golden croissants.When we are alone, I pour the coffee. Black, scalding, steaming. I hand him the cup. Our fingers brush. A spark, an electric contact that makes me inwardly flinch.— You thought of everything.He blows on the black liquid. His eyes are clear now, fully awake. They scrutinize me, but it's a s
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