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Live A Little Longer
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2025-08-17 00:11:02
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His Plaything Live A Little Longer
[Dante]The moment the car broke free of the bridge, everything flipped. I kicked at my door before the shock could steal my focus. Once, twice—my heel connecting hard with metal until it gave way with a hollow groan. At least that way, there would be a route to swim out of.The river swallowed us whole.I'd already braced my legs against the dash, boots planted for leverage, but the sheer force of the landing almost punched the air out of my lungs. Water slammed against the windshield and the current rushed in all at once.I held my breath, knowing that wasting oxygen was like a death sentence. I had to act fast.The airbag was still suffocating against my face which made me wonder if it'd been installed for my detriment or benefit. My fingers clawed at it, shoving the deflated fabric away, ripping it down far enough to see Bianca slumped in her seat.She looked weightless, her blonde hair floating in the rising water. I watched air bubbles exit her lips.I unfastened my own belt, t
His Plaything Over The Edge
[Dante]Petty.That was the only word to describe my actions. I’d never been the type to let emotion dictate my actions, much less over something as trivial as a kiss.Yet the image of Bianca pressing her lips to that… nobody, of all people—had made me act unconsciously.It wasn’t the act itself that still got under my skin, it was the fact that I’d fallen into her trap by proving that she had that sort of effect on me. I was undeniably a possessive man. I thought I could stomach her being with another man aside from me but maybe I’d been wrong about that.How annoying.By the time I slid behind the wheel of the car, it was nearing six in the evening. There was no traffic and the late-day sun bled gold across the windshield. Malcolm should’ve been driving, but Malcolm was dead, and I wasn’t in the mood to hire a new driver just yet. What if I hired an enemy? Bianca sat beside me, arms crossed the whole ride, staring out the passenger window as if the city might offer her an escape ro
His Plaything A Little Date
[Bianca]The meeting went by smoothly at least.I moved around the room like nothing had happened, handing out documents while Dante conducted the meeting with that cool, unreadable expression of his. No hint of the fire that had burned between us earlier. No acknowledgement of our bodies that had lingered together too long. Right now, he was Dante Wentworth.In thirty minutes, the meeting wrapped up. Leather chairs creaked as the board members began rising one after the other, murmuring polite goodbyes."Mr. Gerald," Dante said suddenly. "I'd like to have a word."Gerald—who was already halfway out of his seat—froze, then turned with a placid, practised smile. "Of course." He lowered himself back down slowly, clearly caught off guard.I made to leave, giving them space."Bianca," Dante said sharply. "You too. Take a seat."I paused. Of course. Now I had a pretty good idea what this was about.Gerald was still looking at me, smug as ever. I sat across from him, spine straight and arms
His Plaything A Lesson In Submission
[Bianca]My fingertips pressed against the door as his fingers began to push and spread my insides. He wasn't rushing. He wasn't merciful either. It was punishment—the kind only he could deliver. My hips moved of their own accord, chasing the friction even as my mind screamed to stop.His second hand moved to cup my breast above the fabric of my strained shirt. "You should leave here," he murmured against my neck, his breath hot as he undid my buttons, then slipped his huge hand into my bra, tugging at a swollen nipple. "Open the door, let them find you dripping, trembling, with your tits out." He chuckled darkly. "Might as well make it official, right? You and your assistant boytoy.""Fuck you," I hissed, though it sounded more like a plea."That's the plan."His fingers slipped lower, teasing my entrance, just barely breaching me before pulling away again. My body jerked against his. The closet was too small, too hot, and yet it felt like every inch of him was everywhere—controlling
His Plaything I Paid For This
[Bianca]I wanted to hurt Dante.Not argue. Not scream. Not cry.I wanted Dante Wentworth to feel the same sharp, breath-stealing sting he'd left in my chest. I wanted his throat to tighten and his pulse to hammer in that cold, unbothered body of his. I wanted him to know what it felt like to watch someone he thought belonged to him be touched, wanted, claimed—right in front of his eyes.He didn't give a rat's ass about who I kissed, right?But I wasn't sure if I could even pull it off.Giovanni's hand was still loosely holding my elbow, his brows knit with faint concern. He hadn't let go since I'd bumped into him in the hallway. I had barely registered his words, but his warmth—his attention. I needed it.I swallowed, pushing back the lump in my throat, and managed a tight, "Bad timing."He shook his head, lips quirking faintly. "No such thing as bad timing with you, Bianca."My fingers brushed his chest, curling into the lapel of his suit as I heard Dante's voice somewhere around th
His Plaything F*ck And Get Paid
[Bianca]It had been two days since Dante told me not to leave the house. Two days of pacing from room to room, trying not to stare at the spot on the kitchen counter where that box had sat.And on the third day?He simply got up, got dressed, and told me we were going to work together. No explanation. No mention of Malcolm's head anymore. No questions about how I'd been sleeping, which I had barely, thank you. It was almost like the scene hadn't happened.Sometimes, I couldn't tell what Dante was thinking. Still, I knew one thing: he hadn't taken that threat lightly. Malcolm had been with him since he was just a kid. There was no way a loss like that didn't shake something inside him. He was just... holding it somewhere deep. Letting it ferment.I was still trying to decide if that scared me or impressed me.Now I was in the hallway between the men's and women's restrooms, washing my hands in the shared marble sink. The building's design was too sleek for its own good—unisex common
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