เข้าสู่ระบบI’m horny. Please… just fuck me. I promise I’d tip you extra when the plane lands.The words fell out of my mouth before I could catch them, low and shaky, right against the soft collar of his uniform as he leaned over to collect my empty champagne flute. Zion froze for half a second—long enough that I felt the heat crawl up my neck.“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said quietly, voice velvet-smooth and professional, the way they train them to sound even when a passenger is clearly losing it, “but that’s against our protocol. I can’t help you with… that.”My thighs pressed together under the blanket so hard I felt the ache spike. “Please. You can’t leave me like this.” My voice cracked on the last word and I hated how desperate it sounded, but I was past caring. “I’d give you a thousand bucks. Cash. Right now.”He finally met my eyes—really met them. Dark brown, steady, the tiniest flicker of something that wasn’t protocol. He exhaled through his nose.“Add five hundred,” he said, so soft I bar
I gripped the microphone tighter as I scanned the crowd milling around in front of the Eiffel Tower, my camera guy trailing a few steps behind with the rig steady on his shoulder. It was a busy afternoon, tourists everywhere, and I’d already handed out a couple hundred euros to people who nailed my pop culture questions. The game was simple: answer right, get cash. Answer wrong, and you owe me a favor—usually something harmless like dancing on camera or shouting something embarrassing. But today, I was feeling bold, looking for someone who might play along with something riskier.That’s when I spotted him. He was leaning against a railing, scrolling on his phone, earbuds in, completely oblivious. Mid-twenties, maybe, with messy ginger hair, a fitted black t-shirt that hugged his lean chest and arms, and jeans that sat low on his hips. He had that effortless look—sharp jawline, full lips, the kind of guy who turned heads without trying. I felt a stir in my gut immediately, that familia
Lila’s heart pounded as she knelt in the center, wrists bound behind her back with rough rope that bit into her skin. The five men circled her—Jax, the dominant leader with his tattooed arms; Marcus, lean and cruel with a whip in hand; Theo, broad-shouldered and silent; Victor, smirking with a paddle; and Kane, the one who always pushed her limits with his unyielding grip. This was her idea, her obsession—to beat the Guinness World Record for the longest BDSM orgy endurance, documented by hidden cameras for verification. Twelve hours minimum, with pain as the price. She craved notoriety, the thrill of pushing her body to the edge, but now, as Jax grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, doubt flickered in her eyes.“Ready to break that record, slut?” Jax growled, his fingers digging into her jaw. She nodded, lips parting in a mix of fear and anticipation. He slapped her cheek lightly at first, testing, then harder, the sting blooming across her skin. She gasped, tears welling, but her
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice low and soothing, like he was praising a child. He closed the distance in two steps, his hands gentle on my hips at first, thumbs stroking small circles over my hipbones. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” His touch was feather-light, almost tender, but the way his fingers dug in just a fraction told me he could turn rough any second.“Jace… please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. Tears pricked my eyes again, but I blinked them back. “We don’t have to do this.”He tilted my chin up with one finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes softened, that aggressive edge melting into something deceptively sweet. “But we do, baby girl. Because you’re mine.” He leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that started slow—soft pecks, coaxing my mouth open with gentle pressure. His tongue slipped in, tasting me, exploring like we had all the time in the world. One hand slid up my back, pressing me against him, the fabric of his shirt rough against my nipples.I hated
The weddingAunt Lydia had handed me the clipboard that morning with a quick, excited hug. “Sweetie, can you keep an eye on the exterior designers? Make sure the arch is centered and the flowers match the palette. You’re my rock today.” Her smile was so bright it almost hurt to look at it. I’d nodded, forcing enthusiasm into my voice, and spent the next few hours drifting between the garden tents, greeting distant cousins and great-aunts I hadn’t seen since Mom and Dad’s funeral. They pinched my cheeks, told me how much I’d grown, how much I looked like my mother. Now there were only thirty minutes until the ceremony. I was still in yoga pants and an old hoodie, hair in a messy bun, while the other bridess floated around in silk robes, sipping mimosas. Panic spiked. I mumbled an excuse about checking something upstairs and bolted for my room, taking the steps two at a time.The door clicked shut behind me, and I exhaled shakily. I’d showered earlier, thank God, so I splashed cold wat
“Why no?” Aunt Lydia’s voice rose, sharp with confusion and a hint of hurt. She leaned forward on the couch, her hand slipping off Jace’s knee as she stared at me. “Ava, what’s wrong?”I stood there, frozen in the doorway, my pulse still racing from the hotel disaster. My mouth opened and closed once before the words tumbled out louder than I intended. “No—it can’t be possible. Marrying this man?” It came out almost a yell, my voice cracking on the last word.Lydia’s eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Jace, who hadn’t moved, but his eyes locked onto mine with that slow, deliberate calm that always made my skin crawl. “Ava,” she said firmly, “tell me why right now. And don’t make Jace uncomfortable in his own announcement.”Jace tilted his head slightly, giving me that warning stare—the same one he’d given me weeks ago in the back of his car, the night I’d done something I swore I’d take to my grave. His lips curved into the faintest smile, not warm, not kind, just knowing. My stomach fl







