LOGINShare
Chapter 27
Last Updated:
2025-09-16 01:31:08
Latest chapter
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 28
POV Samantha *** The luncheon was held in a private dining room at the top of a rival skyscraper, all glass and dizzying views. The attendees were sleek, sharp-eyed, a mix of tech giants and venture capitalists. Names I’d only seen in business sections. Cassandra’s briefing notes swam in my head. Smile. Nod. Sustainable tech. Community outreach. Don't mention the brakes. Benjamin introduced me simply as "Samantha," his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. The weight of it was a constant anchor. He navigated the conversations with effortless charm, subtly steering discussions towards Hayes Enterprises’ initiatives. I followed Cassandra’s script, offering bland, pleasant comments when prompted, smiling until my cheeks ached. It felt like walking a tightrope in my blistered heels. During a lull, as Benjamin was drawn into a deep discussion about blockchain with a silver-haired mogul, I found myself momentarily alone near the buffet table, contemplating a piece of sushi
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 27
POV Samantha *** He leaned in slowly. My breath hitched, my body instinctively arching towards his. But he didn’t kiss my lips. Instead, his mouth brushed the corner of my jaw, just below my ear, a soft, lingering press of warmth. His lips moved against my skin, whispering words so low only I could hear them, the vibration resonating deep within me. "Sleep well, Samantha Myers. Dream of me." Then he was gone, stepping back, turning towards his own suite without another word. The door clicked shut softly behind him, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, my skin burning where his lips had touched, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Dream of me. As if I could dream of anything else. *** The stylists and Cassandra arrived again the next morning, but with a different mission. Less impossible task ahead, more… she-just-has-to-look-acceptable. Gone was the sin-black gown. In its place, Cassandra oversaw the selection of sharply tailored trousers in dove grey, silk b
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 26
Samantha's POVI could taste the whiskey from his lips and tongue. His warmth and scent was like a drug that kept me from realising that anyone could walk up to us at any time. We were in a public space.He finally broke the kiss, breathing ragged, his forehead pressed hard against mine. His eyes, dark and wild in the terrace shadows, searched mine.A low groan rumbled in his chest, part triumph, part desperation. His hand slid from my hair to cradle the back of my neck, his other arm still locked like steel around my waist. He didn't kiss me again. He just held me there, pressed against him, his breath hot on my temple, our hearts hammering a frantic, synchronized rhythm against each other through the thin barriers of silk and tuxedo wool. The cool night air did nothing to cool the heat radiating between us.The discreet clearing of a throat shattered the moment. Vance stood framed in the light spilling from the French doors, his expression impassive. "Mr. Hayes. Mr. Sebastian Hayes
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 25
POV Samantha***The possessiveness should have chafed. Instead, it ignited something primal deep within me. A flicker of defiance mixed with a terrifying surge of desire. Before I could formulate a response – sarcastic or otherwise – he stepped back, his touch vanishing, leaving my skin cold and yearning. He offered his arm, the picture of urbane elegance, the heat in his eyes banked but still smoldering. "Shall we?"The Hayes Foundation Gala was a whirlwind of blinding lights, clinking crystal, and suffocating perfume. The venue was a historic museum, transformed into a temple of wealth. Marble floors gleamed. Ice sculptures melted slowly. Orchestra music drifted through the throng of London’s elite, a sea of diamonds, silk, and predatory smiles.Benjamin’s arm was an iron band beneath my hand. He moved through the crowd like a king, nodding curtly, exchanging brief, low-voiced words with men who looked like they ate small countries for breakfast. His attention, however, never fully
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 24
Samantha's POVThe stylists came at dawn. Or maybe it was just 8 AM – in the penthouse’s perpetual twilight, who could tell? Anya, Ingrid, and Beatrice swept back into my suite like a trio of Valkyries armed with steaming irons and enough hairspray to choke a small plane."Le noir absolu," Beatrice declared, holding up a dress that looked like it had been spun from midnight and silk. It was deceptively simple: sleeveless, but with a razor-sharp neckline that plunged just this side of scandalous, and a skirt that fell in liquid folds to the floor. The fabric shimmered faintly, in the faint lighting. "For the predator on your arm," she added with a knowing smirk that made my cheeks heat. Predator. Yeah, that tracked.Anya attacked my hair, twisting the dark mass into an intricate knot that left tendrils loose to frame my face, somehow making me look both severe and beautifully messy. While Ingrid worked her magic with the makeup.They strapped me into heels that were architectural marve
She Writes Her Own Heartbeat Chapter 23
POV Samantha ***"Benjamin!" I gasped, scrambling to right myself, one hand braced on the solid muscle of his thigh, the other on his shoulder. He was solid, immovable. His arm snaked around my waist, anchoring me firmly against him. My back pressed against his chest, my legs dangling over the arm of the enormous chair. I was trapped. Cradled. The position was shockingly intimate."Better," he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my ear. His breath was warm on my neck. One hand remained splayed possessively on my waist, the other came up, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw, turning my face slightly towards his. His eyes were dark pools of smoke, holding mine. "Much better."I was hyper-aware of every point of contact. The hard plane of his chest against my back. The iron band of his arm around my waist. The heat of his thigh beneath my hip. His fingers, tracing slow, maddening circles on my jaw. My breathing was shallow, ragged. The fabric of my sweater felt thin as tissue
You may also like
SEX WITH THE VIRGIN MAID
Wild Dreams1.7M viewsCEO Husband's Crazy Love For His Little Wife
TSI1.5M viewsAddicted to Loving You: The Paranoid and Domineering Boss's Convicted Wife
Gu family's Little Bamboo680.6K viewsHiding the Twins from Their Billionaire Father
Pixie485.7K viewsBeyond Rejection.
Dorkywrites149 viewsA Bad Boy's Love
Zucchiniwrites24 viewsFINDING MY MR RIGHT
Rejoice Sinclair 63 viewsThe Billionaire's Game
Faith187 views
