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Twelve
publish date:
2024-04-29 13:04:29
Latest chapter
His Games, Her Rules Seventy
ROBYN I take a deep breath, only now realizing I’d been holding it in. The air slips from my lungs in one slow exhale. Grabbing a glass of wine from a passing tray, I make my way to the edge of the rooftop. I lean against the barricade, my gaze fixed on the sea as the sound of laughter and conversation from Camilla’s guests melts into background noise. Bringing the glass to my lips, I shut my eyes and take a sip. The cool wine burns slightly on the way down, but it’s a welcome distraction. “Not enjoying the party?” a voice asks beside me, the words dipped in a subtle Italian accent. I glance sideways—and meet a pair of familiar, deep brown eyes. Carlotta. Dominique’s mother. She stands next to me, a warm smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Carlotta,” I say, straightening up as I turn to face her. “Hi.” “I haven’t had the chance to speak with you yet. I wanted to change that.” I offer a small, polite smile. “Yeah, me neither.” “Beautiful dress,”
His Games, Her Rules Sixty Nine
ROBYN “Robyn Denver. The one and only,” a deep, charismatic voice says as a tall man in a sharp two-piece suit takes my hand, lifting it gently to his lips. He plants a kiss on the back of my palm, old-school charm radiating off him like heat from a fire. “I’ve heard so much about you.” “Is that so?” I ask, offering a polite smile as I glance sideways at Dominique, who’s standing beside me with one arm around my waist, firm and possessive. “William Voss,” the man introduces himself, releasing my hand. “Dominique’s father.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Voss.” “The pleasure’s all mine. And you, my dear, are absolutely exquisite.” I smile, my cheeks warming slightly as I catch sight of the stunning Cuban woman beside him. She looks to be in her mid-to-late thirties, graceful and confident, her hand curled around his arm with practiced ease. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I say truthfully. There’s no denying where Dominique gets his looks—good genes clearly run in
His Games, Her Rules Sixty Eight
ROBYN You know that feeling when control slips from your fingers—when everything feels just out of reach—and instead of panicking, you let it? When surrendering feels… right? That’s what it’s like with Dominique Voss. Even when he’s not in the same room, he’s in my head. A steady hum beneath my skin. I don’t know what’s happening to me—what this is—but it’s all-consuming, and fuck, it’s terrifying. I’ve always been careful. I’ve kept people at arm’s length, locking pieces of myself away because I know what it feels like to be exposed… to be hunted. But Dominique didn’t need permission to get in. He didn’t even knock. He just walked right through, like he already knew the way. He presses the right buttons without even trying, and every time he looks at me, my heart stumbles. I’ve dated before—nothing serious, nothing lasting. Casual, uncomplicated. But this? This isn’t casual. It’s electric. It’s maddening. It’s real in a way I’ve never let anything be. “What are you thinki
His Games, Her Rules Sixty Seven
DOMINIQUEMy gaze trails slowly down Robyn’s naked body, savoring every inch of smooth, flushed skin until I pause—just above her right hip, where a small, familiar mark catches my attention. A scar. It’s faint but unmistakable. Clean, round, and shallow—the kind that only comes from a bullet wound. I know because I have them too. Mine are buried beneath ink and memory, but this one? It’s bare, visible. Vulnerable. I lean forward, bracing one hand beside her on the bed, and run my fingers gently over the scar. The skin there is slightly raised, textured. She flinches, not from pain—but from the memory. Her eyes meet mine, wide and suddenly distant, like I’ve brushed against something far deeper than just her body. The pleasure in her gaze dims, replaced by a flicker of something else—fear, pain, or maybe shame. She doesn’t speak, but her silence screams. I want to ask. I want to know who hurt her, why she had to carry this kind of pain. But not now. I press a kiss to th
His Games, Her Rules Sixty Six
DOMINIQUE “Lay back, spread those pretty legs of yours, and touch yourself,” I command, my voice rough and low. Her breath hitches instantly. Robyn likes control—she thrives on it. But in the bedroom? She craves dominance. I’ve seen it in her eyes, in the way she responds when I take charge. She wants a man who can meet her fire with fire, who won’t hesitate to pin her to the wall or whisper filthy instructions into her ear. And fuck if I don’t want to be that man every damn time. That night at the restaurant when I dared her to touch herself? That memory is etched into my skull. She cracked herself open in front of me, revealed what got her off, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. She likes it dirty. She likes a challenge. She likes to be told what to do when she’s wet and needy—and right now, I can see it all over her face. She wants to be undone. “You want to watch me touch myself?” she purrs, voice smoky, seductive. There’s a daring gleam in her eyes. I smi
His Games, Her Rules Sixty Five
I freeze. His chest brushes my back and I swear every nerve ending in my body lights up in protest—and in need. The memory of his hands on my skin last night, the way he washed me with a tenderness that shouldn’t have felt so intimate… it all comes crashing back. I don’t move as his arm comes up beside my head, his bicep brushing my shoulder as he easily grabs the coffee jar and sets it down in front of me. Then the sugar. Then the creamer. Each movement precise, intentional, torturously slow. I bite down on my bottom lip, goosebumps spreading across my arms and down my spine. His warmth envelopes me, clouding my senses, and his masculine scent—laced with expensive cologne—shuts down half my brain. I can’t think. My body responds instinctively to every light touch, every close proximity, every dirty whisper he’s ever breathed against my skin. I flinch slightly when his fingers graze my shoulder, pushing my hair gently to the side. I turn around, locking eyes with him, my puls
His Games, Her Rules Fifty Three
My mission, during this breakfast meeting with his family, is to get my revenge on Dominique for leaving me sexually frustrated. Earlier when I was taking my bath, I had touched myself to get the edge off while I shamelessly imagined Dominique touching me in the places where I desperately craved his
Last Updated : 2026-03-31His Games, Her Rules Forty Two
DOMINIQUEI’m ruined. I knew she was going to ruin me when I had a taste of her, but not this soon. It’s been more than a month since that unforgettable night and it felt like it was yesterday. I could still taste her on my tongue, I could still hear her cries and her moans, and I could still remembe
Last Updated : 2026-03-28His Games, Her Rules Forty
My heart beats against my chest rapidly at the sight before me. It’s him. Dominique fucking Gray in the flesh. I haven’t seen this man in a month and God knows I didn’t prepare to meet him today so I don’t know how I’m supposed to react. He’s breathtakingly gorgeous just like every other day that I’
Last Updated : 2026-03-27His Games, Her Rules Thirty Six
DOMINIQUEShe tastes better than I imagined, warm, slick, and throbbing with need. I run my tongue on her tight pussy, tasting her sweet juices as I lick her. I envelop my mouth over her entrance as I suck. Her feet buckle, threatening to give up on her as she clamps her mouth shut with her right han
Last Updated : 2026-03-26
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