LOGINIn the shadowed opulence of New York, where power is currency and secrets bind tighter than chains, fallen heir Aiden Blackwood auctions his body at The Gilded Cage to rescue his brother from financial ruin. Blindfolded in a velvet-dark room, he kneels before an anonymous bidder, gloved fingers gripping his jaw, forcing his lips apart. A thick, veined cock slides deep into his throat, making him gag and choke, tears streaming as the man thrusts relentlessly, mixing humiliation with a forbidden rush of arousal. Pinned against the icy wall, Aiden’s ass is stretched wide by probing fingers, then filled raw by the stranger’s pounding length, his cries echoing in ecstasy and pain until hot cum floods him, marking him as owned. The lights reveal Silas Vane, the once-bullied outcast now a vengeful tech billionaire with stormy eyes and a lethal edge. Silas’s feelings are a tangled storm of revenge laced with unresolved obsession, pulling Aiden into a web of corporate intrigue and hidden desires. As enemies entangled in a slow-burn romance, Aiden emerges not as mere prey but a fierce secret lover, challenging Silas’s control while accompanying him on high-stakes deals. Power imbalances shift amid family loyalties and undercover plots; Silas’s protection turns possessive, testing trust. In this erotic enemies-to-lovers tale, every brutal fuck is a battle for dominance will Aiden shatter the leash or forge it into mutual surrender?
View MoreThe wedding unfolded on a private cliffside overlook above the Amalfi coast, where the late afternoon sun hung heavy and honey-gold, turning the sea into a living sheet of hammered metal. The air was thick with the scent of sun-warmed stone, salt, and the sharp green perfume of wild basil growing in cracks along the path. A simple linen canopy fluttered above the small gathering white fabric catching the breeze like breath, edges embroidered with tiny sea-blue thread that shimmered when the light hit. Barefoot guests stood on warm terracotta tiles still radiating the day’s heat; the faint sizzle of cicadas filled the pauses between words.Claire walked down the petal-strewn aisle in bare feet, a flowing dress of cream silk-chiffon that moved with her like water. No veil only a circlet of fresh white jasmine and olive leaves threaded through her dark curls. Her family background was quiet, grounded: a Sicilian mother who had run a small olive farm near Taormina, a father who taught lit
The villa terrace overlooked the same stretch of Amalfi coastline that had witnessed their first renewal of vows years earlier. Dawn had broken soft and slow, the sky a watercolor wash of peach, rose, and pale gold bleeding into the turquoise sea. Waves rolled in with gentle, rhythmic sighs, each crest catching the light like molten glass before dissolving into white foam that hissed across black volcanic sand. The air carried salt, wild rosemary from the cliffs above, and the faint sweetness of ripening lemons from the grove behind the house. Far below, fishing boats bobbed like scattered toys, their hulls painted in faded primary colours reds, blues, yellows that looked almost edible against the glittering water.Aiden stood at the stone balustrade, barefoot, wearing only loose linen drawstring pants that rode low on his hips. The morning breeze lifted strands of his dark hair, now threaded with the first fine silver at the temples. He held a ceramic mug of black coffee still too ho
Five years after the night the penthouse glass ran red, the world had moved on. Vane-Blackwood Industries stood as a quiet titan in the tech world ethical AI, green data centers, scholarships for foster youth. No whispers of shadows. No rumors of leashes. Only results, innovation, and the occasional photograph of two men walking hand-in-hand through Central Park with three rescue dogs trotting ahead.Aiden and Silas had chosen a small, private ceremony on the same Amalfi beach where they had first renewed their vows. No press. No elite guests. Just Elena Voss (now retired, still sharp-tongued and fiercely loyal), a handful of trusted colleagues, Marcus and his fiancée Claire, and the dogs Max, Luna, and Shadow wearing tiny bow ties that Silas had insisted on.The sun hung low, turning the sea to molten gold. Aiden stood barefoot in linen, hair tousled by salt wind, green eyes bright. Silas faced him in the same soft white shirt and pants, silver-streaked hair catching the dying light,
The sun rose over the Amalfi villa in slow, golden strokes, painting the bedroom walls in soft amber. Aiden woke first sprawled across Silas’s chest, one leg hooked over his hip, the platinum band on his finger catching the light like a quiet vow. Silas was still asleep, silver-streaked hair mussed, scarred lip slightly parted, breathing deep and even. For once, no tension lingered in his face. No storm behind closed lids.Aiden propped himself on one elbow, studying the man who had once terrified him, owned him, and finally miraculously set him free.No collar today. No leather. Just skin, heartbeat, trust.He traced the faint line of the old bite mark on Silas’s shoulder the one Aiden had reopened in passion, then kissed in apology, then kissed again in devotion. Silas stirred at the touch, stormy blue eyes fluttering open.“Morning,” Aiden murmured.Silas’s arm tightened around him instinctively. “You’re still here.”“Always.”Silas exhaled a long, relieved sound and pulled Aiden d






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