Chapter 1 - The Vows of Seduction

Elena

“l do.” Those two words which are supposed to make every woman feel the happiest for uniting with their soulmates, left my mouth simply with no emotions.

And just like that, I signed my soul away to the devil who might be planning to feast on it every day, every night until his hunger is satisfied.

Dominic Moretti stood in front of me with his tall height which was carrying raw terrifying power. His eyes were cold and pitch black like the darkness I feared all my life. They stared straight through my soul with no flicker of warmth and no hint of mercy. A chill spread across my spine thinking about the future ahead of me but I didn’t flinch.

Fear? No, I wasn’t born with something petty like this.

To the world, I’m just the delicate daughter of a disgraced businessman, an innocent woman raised to smile, nod and obey. They have no idea who I really am but soon, he will.

Because I, Elena D’Souza, may have been forced to marry the devil but I plan to drag him straight to hell with me.

If it wasn't for the greedy bastard whom I call father, I wouldn’t be standing at the altar in this white gown, dressed up like the prettiest and happiest bride. All it took him was one desperate deal with the most dangerous mafia family in the city to sell me off like some unwanted worthless object. And now, thanks to that fucking deal, I belong to Dominic Moretti, the devil, the king of chaos and the man feared by each and everyone in the city.

And God, did He take His sweet time crafting this particular demon. Every woman in the chapel had their eyes glued to him like he was a meat waiting to be eaten, even the ones sitting next to their husbands. I could feel their jealousy scraping at my skin but I cared less about them as they are no one to me. And honestly, if I wasn’t hopelessly in love with Daniel, I might have stared too.

Because look at him. Perfectly tousled black hair that screams for my fingers to yank it while he pounds me into the mattress. A sculpted jawline so sharp it could slice glass. That bone melting stare, black, deep and sinful, that had my thighs clenching since the second I walked down the aisle. Those full cruel lips, I can already picture them between my legs, making me scream his name. His black suit was custom, hugging every inch of that lethal muscular body like it was sewn by the devil himself. And those veiny hands, I want them wrapped around my throat while he ruins me with his cock.

Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am supposed to hate this man. He is my prison, my punishment. The bastard who just destroyed every plan I had for my future. And yet here I am, soaking wet under my gown, imagining what it feels like to cum with his name on my lips.

Maybe I am just horny or maybe it’s because I haven’t seen Daniel in weeks. That has to be it.

“Now, you may kiss the bride.” The priest announced, his voice slicing through my dirty thoughts like a dagger and making me feel ashamed about it.

My breath got caught in my throat, making me feel sick suddenly. What? We are actually doing this?

My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I could hear it echoing inside my skull and I knew that he could hear it too, I was sure about it. My husband, the walking sin in a suit, is actually going to kiss me? The same man whose stare alone just made my panties damp. If his eyes could do this, what would his mouth do?

A small part of me burned with anticipation. The rest of me screamed no, I didn’t want to kiss another man when I still loved Daniel but that “other man” now owned me. He had more rights to my body than Daniel ever would.

And yet, I had no plans to let this marriage survive. I couldn’t leave him, not without losing everything. My father made sure of that. One step out of this marriage, and every ounce of wealth that belonged to me would be handed to my gold digging stepsister. What’s mine stays mine. So, I will stay in this marriage but I will make sure he leaves.

I will seduce him. Smother him with need. Become every man’s wet dream and every husband’s nightmare until he can’t stand the sight of me.

He will beg for divorce. That was the plan but the moment he stepped towards me, that plan started to unravel.

Every step he took was deliberate, heavy with power. My lungs got tightened with every inch of gap he closed between us. That made me want to run away but stay at the same time. When his fingers brushed the side of my waist, my body felt like it was on fire and started betraying me. I shivered visibly, my knees feeling like they were about to give up.

And then he pulled me in. My hands flew to his neck in pure reflex. His other hand slid up my back slowly and possessively and settled at my nape. His touch made sparks fly across my skin like electricity straight to my core. My breath hitched.

And then he kissed me with no warning and gentleness. Just with pure fire and dominance.

His mouth crashed against mine with a kiss as fierce and demanding as him. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was like he was claiming me in front of everyone, like he was trying to show something to everyone present. His lips molded onto mine like he owned them from even before the marriage, like he had a right to take me wherever and whenever he wanted. His tongue forced it's way in ruthlessly like it wanted to ruin every kiss that came before him and that thought made my pussy throb in need. My body melted and tightened all at once. His tongue tangled with mine in a brutal, wet dance of who would dominate whom.

I lost, the kiss shattered my every thought, ripped every planned idea from my brain and left me weak and throbbing between my thighs.

Then he pulled back barely, his forehead pressed against mine calmly like he was trying to stop himself from doing something else. His breath was heavy, hot and laced with control.

“Welcome to hell, wife,” he whispered, his voice was husky.

I gasped, not from fear but from how goddamn sexy he sounded.

I am so utterly, epically doomed.

---

Men hate desperate women. They despise needy, clingy, talkative girls who can’t shut up, who try too hard. I’ve heard it my whole life.

Perfect, I am going to be that woman. Every second. Every night. I will annoy the fuck out of my dear husband until he can’t stand to be in the same room with me.

That’s why I chose this red lingerie. Not just any red, “fuck me” red. Thin lace that barely hides anything. A bra that makes my already perfect breasts sit like a gift. A thong so small, it’s practically useless. The short silk robe I threw over it barely covers my thighs. I am not here to tease, I am here to torment.

Let him think I’m dying to jump his cock. Let him believe I’m a horny little wife begging for attention. Let him hate it.

I checked myself one last time in the bathroom mirror. I took a deep breath and encouraged myself to be as confident as possible and not to get distracted by his hotness. My long and wild waves of hair tumbled over my delicate shoulder. My lips were painted blood red, curved into a seductive smile which will get imprinted in his brain. My skin looked flushed, glowing and ready to be fucked, not actually, I reminded myself.

I stepped out and walked into pitch black darkness.

What the hell? The bedroom lights were on when I entered. Now, they were off, completely.

I stilled as a sound broke the silence.

Click, a tiny flame burst to life from a silver lighter. That orange glow had illuminated his face, making him look heavenly hot and handsome.

Dominic, he was sitting in his armchair like a fucking king, watching me, more like his eyes were swallowing me. He was calm, silent and dangerous.

That smirk resting on his lips which I was seeing for the first time, it seemed lazy, arrogant and lethal as he watched me standing there in nearly nothing.

He flicked the lighter closed and the darkness swallowed us whole.

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