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The penthouse
Fecha de publicación:
2026-10-22 05:39:40
Último capítulo
my worst enemy The penthouse
Stephanie’s POVI woke with the same restless energy that had kept me packing until midnight. My two suitcases stood by the door like silent witnesses. Everything I owned fit into them now. The hotel room already felt like a place I had only borrowed for a while.I dragged the bags into the hallway, checked out at the front desk with the last of my cash, and stepped outside into the cool morning air. A black car waited at the curb. The chauffeur—tall, gray suit, polite smile—spotted me instantly.“Miss Reyes?” he said. “Mr. Cross sent me to collect you.”I nodded, too surprised to speak, and let him load the bags. The moment the door closed behind me and the car pulled into traffic, my phone buzzed.It was Damian: *Did my driver find you?**Yes.*A small, traitorous smile curved my mouth before I could stop it. Something warm and dangerous fluttered under my ribs—the sense that a new life might actually be starting. I crushed it immediately. I could not afford softness where Damian Cr
my worst enemy The contract
Stephanie’s POVI woke up before the alarm, the unsent email still open on my phone like an accusation. The hotel room felt smaller than it had the night before. I showered, pulled on jeans and a soft sweater, and left for my usual morning walk. The Chicago air was sharp enough to clear my head for exactly twelve minutes. Then the thoughts rushed back in.I was done with my 10k steps goal for the day. The smell of coffee swung past my nose and I decided to go see Nadia. Nadia’s coffee bar smelled like cinnamon and dark roast when I pushed through the door. Luckily, my favorite corner table was empty, and I immediately claimed it. She appeared two minutes later with my usual order already in her hand.“You look like you fought a ghost and lost,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me.We did the normal things first. Caught up on her parents’, chatted in the midst of endless noise from other chatters in the bar. Traded bad jokes about the regular who always ordered oat milk and
my worst enemy The offer
I couldn’t stand the sight of him.The second the blindfold came off and Damian Cross stood in front of me—half-hard, lips still swollen from my mouth—rage flooded every place the pleasure had lived. I snatched my dress from the floor, yanked it over my head without bothering with the zipper, and shoved my feet into my heels. My hands shook so hard my cloth rolled up my hip but I didn’t care. I grabbed my purse and walked out of the alcove without looking at him again.Marshall called something behind me. I ignored it. The main lounge blurred past in streaks of orange and red light. Bodies, moans, the wet slap of skin—none of it registered in my head, I just wanted out as fast as possible. I pushed through the heavy door, climbed the narrow stairs two at a time, and burst into the regular club like I was escaping a fire.The door slammed shut behind me and flew open again almost immediately.“Stephanie.”His voice. That same low, rough voice that had just told me I was hot for coming
my worst enemy The voice
Stephanie’s POVThe next morning I sat through two more interviews and watched both doors close in my face.That made five applications total that I had applied for this week. The three remote ones had already rejected me by email. These last two told me, politely and without eye contact, that I wasn’t the right fit for the available position. I packed the thin folder of résumés back into my bag, walked out of the second glass building, and stood on the sidewalk feeling the exact shape of how screwed I was.Eleven days of hotel money had already started bleeding into nine. The divorce check still hadn't been cleared. My final paycheck from Rowan & Vance was a rumor somewhere in the future.I called Nadia while I walked and she answered after the fourth ring.“They both said no,” I immediately told her with a shaky voice. “I’m out of options and almost out of cash.”“Aww, i’m so sorry, don’t worry i’m sure one will eventually work out.” she said and paused. “But I don't want you to thi
my worst enemy More
Stephanie’s POVHis fingers found my clit like they already knew where it was seated and he rubbed on it with slow circles at first, barely there, the pad of one finger gliding over the swollen peak with maddening patience. The pills still burned through my blood, turning every nerve into a live wire. I tried to rock against his hand but the cuffs held me open and helpless. He increased the pressure by degrees, he wasn’t rushing at all and that felt like torture—he was just steady, circling deliberate friction that made my thighs shake and my breath stutter around the gag.I couldn’t even speak, I only allowed myself to moan. I came the first time with a broken, muffled cry. My whole body locked, cunt clenching hard around nothing, wetness spilling down my thighs. I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong.He didn’t stop.His touch changed—still firm, still precise, but threaded with something that felt almost like reverence. He stroked me through the aftershocks as if he had
my worst enemy Yes
Stephanie’s POVThe lounge hit me like a second heartbeat.Naked bodies were everywhere. Young. Older. Men. Women. A woman was bound to a heavy wooden chair, wrists and ankles strapped, while two men worked her over with slow, deliberate hands—one sucking hard at her nipple, the other sliding thick fingers between her spread thighs. Another woman had a man’s face buried against her chest, both of them moaning into the contact. Across the room several men knelt with thick ball gags stretching their mouths, eyes glazed and obedient, while a woman in black leather lingerie paced in front of them with a whip coiled in her fist. She cracked it once against the floor and every one of them shuddered like the sound alone was enough.It was a dungeon built for pleasure. Leather and rope and polished metal. St. Andrew’s crosses bolted to the walls. Low platforms padded in dark red. Chains hanging from the ceiling like jewelry. The air smelled of sweat, sex, warm wax, and the faint sharp edge of
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