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Like Lambs To A Slaughter
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2025-05-01 20:58:49
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His Plaything Heat Of The Moment
[Dante]That woman... she was becoming more unpredictable by the day. One moment she was drunk out of her mind, the next she was calling at odd hours like I was her emergency contact—always with trouble nipping at her heels. But showing up here of her own volition? That was new.She never came to me unless she had something to gain—or something to prove.I figured she was coming to 'clear the air.' Toss out a half-hearted apology, stir up a pointless argument, maybe remind me she didn't owe me anything. Her usual routine. I should've been used to it by now—but being used to Bianca never made her any less infuriating.A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.I looked up. And there she was.Her silhouette framed the doorway. She was wearing a white shirt tucked neatly beneath a dark suit jacket, all business above the waist—but below—that skirt was an insult to decency. It stopped far too short of modesty, hugging her hips and showing off legs I had spent far too many nights thinking ab
His Plaything A Reason To Live
[Bianca]The first thing I registered was the light. Pale, silvery, and much too bright for the way my head was pounding. I groaned and flopped onto my side, shielding my eyes. The second was the sheets—cool, soft and tangled around my legs like I'd fought off a dream or maybe a demon. Either option felt equally possible for some reason.The ceiling above me wasn't familiar. Definitely not Cassie's.So where the hell was I?I struggled to sit up and the sheets slipped down and I froze. My top was gone. My heart began to race, thudding in my ears as I jerked the covers away to assess the damage.My panties? Still on.My legs trembled as I shifted slightly, testing for any soreness. But there was none. No sticky skin. No ache. Just a mild hangover and a foggy brain.On the bedside table sat a packet of wipes—one half sticking out, signifying that it had been used—and next to it, a neatly folded piece of paper.I reached for it with trembling fingers.'The suite was paid for. But you st
His Plaything You Make Me Weak
[Dante]The hotel door slammed shut behind us and in three long strides, I was already beside the bed.I tossed the woman down and she landed with a soft bounce, breath-catching, eyes wide—but not afraid. No. She was looking at me like I was the only thing in the room worth breathing for.Her gaze clung to mine, slightly unfocused from the alcohol, but there was no mistaking the hunger in it. The invitation.I started undoing the buttons of my shirt, one by one, slowly—never breaking eye contact. "You're not going to run this time, are you?" I asked, shrugging off my coat and letting it fall to the floor with a muffled thud.She didn't answer with words. She didn't need to.The corner of her mouth curved into something sly. And then her hands were in my hair the moment I set one knee over the bed.I reached for her throat, fingers wrapping gently, possessively around the delicate column of her neck and our lips collided in a kiss that burned through logic and hesitation alike. Her mou
His Plaything Just This Once
[Dante] “As you can see, sir, our branch in Japan is outperforming South Korea, so I suggest we—” BZZZZT. My phone vibrated, interrupting the presentation. All eyes subtly glanced at me as I glanced at the screen. Bianca. I hadn’t seen her since that day. I hadn’t gone after her either, opting to let things cool off—and clear my head after Mr. Wentworth decided to stir chaos and leave me with the mess. As I reached for the phone, the room tried to act casual, but I could feel their curiosity in the air. Normally, I never answered calls during meetings. But this time, I did. I swiped to answer and pressed the phone to my ear. “You! You left me! How could you? Get back here, dammit! I can’t get home by myself!” she slurred. Silence fell on my end for a beat. I pressed my lips together, then asked quietly: “Are you drunk? Where are you?” I heard the woman gasp over the phone before hanging up. I stared at the screen. Did she mean to call someone else? And who
His Plaything The Hunt For Answers
[Bianca]It had been three days.Three long, weirdly peaceful days since I left Dante's place, and Cassandra's apartment had become something of a soft landing spot. Or at least as soft as her sequinned couch and aggressively scented candles would allow.The first night, she insisted I stay over without me asking, and claimed the paparazzi would never find me here, but we both knew she just wanted details and didn't take "nothing happened" for an answer. "So? You and Dante Wentworth. Spill," she had asked immediately after I got in, laying herself across the couch while smoking.“It’s nothing honestly,” I began, lowering my bags, “I was trying to get a job through him but things just got a bit complicated.” I lied, trying to feed her curiosity at least a little to please her. Cassandra kicked her feet in the air, nodding. She was obviously high and not the best person at keeping secrets. “Complicated you say? What do you mean? He just wanted to fuck or maybe something more serious?”
His Plaything Like Lambs To A Slaughter
[Dante]The bedroom door echoed after I slammed it and I heard the front door shut quietly.And I stood there—still drowning in the aftershock.She slapped me.She slapped me.Me.Bianca Campbell.Bianca. Fucking. Campbell.The same woman who was crying in my arms in that elevator before the switch happened. Now she had teeth.She had the audacity to strike me like I was some misbehaving child who needed correction.I blinked slowly, jaw twitching. My hands were trembling—not with hurt, but disbelief as they reached for my cheek. The last person who slapped me was long dead. But why did I find her outburst unimaginably sexy?That fire. That mouth. Oh, that goddamn slap.What the hell was she doing to me?I paced the room like an animal, hands in my hair, tugging at the roots. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her lips. Her fists. Her shaking fingers curled into the fabric of her blouse to hide that she was panicking.Bianca wasn’t like the others.She was afraid but still daring.A
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