His Possession.

“Miss Rosealba.” The editor greeted, stretching a hand.

Rosealba hurriedly took the hand, her face grazed with a cozy smile.

“Please sit.” The editor urged after a brief moment of silence and Rosealba nodded, retrieving her hand from the shake. She sat on the chair opposite the editor, dropping her bag on the table that was filled with files and documented manuscripts.

“What would you like to be offered, Miss Rosealba?”

Although the editor’s voice sounded really professional, Rosealba could still detect that there was a bit of cordiality compared to her last visit.

“Water would be fine.” Rosealba smiled simply.

The editor nodded. She stood up and approached the fridge and Rosealba took a moment to admire the office.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, filled with classics, contemporary masterpieces, and well-worn manuscripts marked with colorful sticky notes.

Soft, golden light streamed through large windows, casting a warm glow over the plush armchair in the corner—a silent witness to countless hours of reading and reflection— this view immediately reminded Rosealba of her store— a solitude that comforted the air with flower fragrance. Her lips twitched into a subconscious smile as she drifted into the thoughts, wondering how she would be able to juggle it up together—being a writer and…

“Miss Rosealba.” The editor’s voice rose above Rosealba’s thought, shattering her trance.

She blinked back, letting her gaze land on the editor who was currently stretching a glass of water to Rosealba.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, taking the glass from the editor while the editor walked back to her seat.

Rosealba’s grip tightened around the glass cup, and she hesitated for a second before lifting the glass to her lips.

*******

“Miss Rosealba.” The editor cleared her throat. “You have made it to the final manuscript review….”

Rosealba’s stomach tightened into a knot and her heart thrummed at the fear that she might not be accepted. Or the fear that something might go wrong. Like the certificate, she submitted to the company. What if they figured out it was illegally obtained?

“If you finally become an author, how do you intend to promote the company and impact it positively?”

Rosealba’s throat dried at the question, but she braced her shoulder, determined.

“As an author..” her voice wavered at first but she carried on.

“I hope to be passionate by honoring craft and writing with authenticity. I hope to develop characters with genuine emotions, flaws, and growth. I hope to write books that capture readers and explore deep dark and controversial themes that help the company to grow and attract a proper audience.”

The editor’s face lit with a smile as Rosealba drew her speech to a conclusion, but the smile on her face faded slowly as regret stepped in. Her fingers twitched at the guilt that burned within. She had denied this lady at first and now she could not help but feel the guilt as they curled through her veins.

“You did really well,” she remarked. “The editorial team has reviewed your work and the senior editor has given your books the approval. Nobel Write is excited to sign you as their author and we look forward to growing through work and receiving the best quality from you.”

Rosealba’s breath catches. Her heart leaped, the news slipping into her. Her grip on the side of her coat tightened at the excitement that surged into her like another source of life. Her lips parted into a smile, tears brewing in her eyes. Her dream had finally been accomplished. Satisfaction slithered through her, raw and unfiltered. She was going to be an author of the almighty, Nobel Write. Something in Rosealba shifted, and the happiness in her eyes weaved.

She turned to the editor. “Miss.” Her voice was low and conscious.

The editor raised a gaze allowing her the audience.

“My manuscript had been rejected before, may I know the reason it got accepted again?”

The editor's breath hitched, the question strucking hard. Her throat bulged as she swallowed in nervousness and her grip tightened around the file in her hand.

She has been the cause. She had taken a bribe, but she could not possibly allow herself to get caught.

She mustered a smile, closing the file. “Noble Writes works with rules. We do have the required amount of books to be accepted in each year. This time, we had exceeded it. But after the senior editor stumbled on your manuscript and read it, she found it better and asked me to make an exception for you.”

Rosealba’s heart flipped, the words melting into her. Her smile grew wider, almost contagious. An exception had been made for her? That uplifted her in ways she couldn't even put into words.

Silence stepped in a brief seconds serving each other with different purposes. While Rosealba was jubilating, the editor was burning from guilt and the fear that she could get fired if her actions came to light.

“The contract has been arranged. You will give a title for the book and sign the contract before leaving. Is that fine?”

Rosealba nodded, consumed by joy.

The editor pledged some minutes to go through the contract file again. The faint sound of a ticking clock filled the quiet space, harmonizing with the gentle rustle of paper as pages turned into piles under the editor’s finger. Rosealba savored the moment, trapped in her thought of a breakthrough. Hopefully, in a year, she will gather lots of readers and become one of the Nobel Write best-selling authors.

*****

Drystan presence screamed power, darkness, and danger as he leaned against his black Audi A7l with folded arms, waiting for Rosealba at the front of the company. It was something he had never done in his life. He never had to wait for anyone, never. He was Italy's most feared, he gave orders and they were carried out in micros seconds, but with her, there was a slithering desire to see, to feel, and to hold dearly.

Since the day his eyes crossed her direction, he had been a different person. His darkness that didn't have limitations was suddenly limited to her. He found himself always at her flower store, like a homeless being, craving and yearning for her presence.

Just like every other time, he didn't want to miss out on the bright beautiful smile that would engulf her face if she got assigned as an author in a company she was the CEO of yet had no pinch of idea about.

Even though he had driven a stake into the heart of a traitor and killed him less than the way that would satisfy his haunting heart, he had driven an hour down here because her presence was like tiny brilliant stars that brightened his darkest heart.

And when his eyes caught the sight of her, a muscle pinched in his jaws and satisfaction slited through him.

She looked drop-dead gorgeous than anybody ever looked in a black pant, a black turtle neck top, and a tan coat that complemented the glow of her pale white skin. This morning he had held himself from glaring too much because she was all that awakened the hungry horny beast in him. She walked out of the glass door with a file in her hand, wearing that big bright smile and guiding his weary heart with shores of hope. In his world, no one ever smiled this beautifully— no one ever deserved to smile.

Her smile was a melody that played on her lips, a silent symphony that whispered peace—the peace he never knew he needed until her emergence in his life.

As she walked closer, her smile, beautiful petals, unfolding kindness and warmth into him, he suddenly recalled last night—the glow in her big doe eye, as he drove into her, getting a hold of her beautiful expression while he fucked her hard and fast grunting hotly into the air, something he never did before. And the way she took him? Urghhh! It was perfect! Perhaps more perfect than he could ever imagine—tight possessive walls yet accommodated him so well.

Drystan had not been able to get through whatever happened last night. For 12 good years, he had believed that sex didn't involve emotions or feelings. He fucked, mostly from behind, hard and fast, with no light, because darkness was etched into every part of his existence and they were rules that he had held dearly, until last night. He had kissed her, and even done the sweet nothing he thought he would never do, and when he buried his huge self into her tight willing p***y, he had called out home, confessing his love shamelessly, before and after sex. He had f**ked her, hard and fast, scared that she might break into pieces, but she proved him wrong.

Turned out his sweet little blondy was a slut and he had never been this happy to be wrong. Her slim, tight cunt, took him perfectly, providing him the pleasure no one ever gave him. Since the day he met her, she became his, and she had the chance to still run, but now? She was his possession! His obsession and everything he existed for.

Finally, he owned his human, and the world would be perks of aches if anyone dared his obsession.

Rosealba’s endless step finally halted when she got to Drystan.

“Sunshine…” He called but his last words trailed off as Rosealba threw herself into his arms, emotions clogging onto her pulse.

“I got the contract. I got accepted.” Rosealba’s mumbled between tears and happiness.

Drystan’s heart melted, satisfaction surging through his veins.

His hand wrapped possessively around Rosealba’s body and he smuggled her into himself, hugging her tightly and ignoring the environment. She was his woman now and he could do anything he desired anywhere as long as she was not against it.

“I knew you would.” He mumbled gently, running his hand against her hair. His words came from a place of genuineness. He knew Rosealba was qualified. He had always known.

Tears slipped down Rosealba's eyes, easing her slightly burdened heart.

Her grip against him tightened and she adjusted into his huge powerful frame, his fragrance gripping her nostril. Her hands moved against his powerful muscled chest as she rested her head on his chest feeling every breath as they thrummed underneath her fingers.

Rosealba’s body twitched, desiring something nasty. Sometning that only Drystan could make her feel. Sometning she shouldn't be desiring at the moment when her pussy had been fucked and was still terribly sore.

“Would it be an honor to get fucked? Her voice dripped with thick rooted nastiness, almost seeming like it didn't come from her, but she had promised not to hesitate again.

Drystan jaws clenched, his cock kicking at the sound of that. Hot sexy voice that ordered a nasty juicy meal. One he was ready and would always be ready to serve.

Drystan pulled her from the hug, his eyes dark and raw as they brewed with needs.

“Trust me to always have a plan drafted out in accordance with your desire.”

Rosealba chuckled feeling her pussy throb underneath her pant.

“I have had plans to fuck your skull out sunshine… I can not be any more ready to honor this darling desire of ours.”

Rosealba’s stomach twitched, so tight. Her pussy throbbed, wetness spilling against her pants.