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083: In the Dark, He Watched
Last Updated:
2025-06-11 14:45:04
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Ten Sinful Commandments 085: Tied By the Devil’s Whisper
The morning sun hadn’t yet reached the blackout curtains. The room was cloaked in quiet shadows, but Lydia wasn’t sleeping.She lay on her side, naked under Damian’s sheets, her skin still carrying the bruised heat of last night’s devotion. Her thighs ached, her lips were swollen, and every inch of her body whispered his name. But it was the silence between them now that unnerved her the most.Damian was already up.She could feel the absence of his body in the bed—no warmth, no breath. Just cold cotton where he’d once held her through the night.She sat up slowly, the sheet slipping down her back. Her reflection caught in the mirror across the room—skin kissed with red marks, her collarbone bearing the faintest imprint of his teeth. Her lips parted, remembering what he’d said.“That wasn’t me f*cking you. That was me worshipping you.”But worship came with sacrifice.She found her robe and slid it on, padding barefoot through the hallway. The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet th
Ten Sinful Commandments 084: His Name on My Skin
Lydia woke to the feeling of warmth between her legs—her body still humming, raw and aching from how Damian had taken her again and again. The room smelled like sex and shadows. Her wrists bore faint marks where he had held her down, and when she shifted, her thighs burned with the sweet sting of being thoroughly claimed. But it wasn’t the ache that made her breath catch. It was the ink. A single word. Written across her inner thigh in messy, black marker. Damian. Her lips parted. The lettering was bold. Possessive. He had written his name on her skin in the middle of the night. Marked her. Like property. She sat up, the silk sheet slipping from her bare body. Damian wasn’t in the room, but his scent was—spiced, dangerous, addictive. The kind of scent that made a woman forget her last name. Her fingers traced the letters. Still fresh. Still smudging under her touch. The door creaked open. Damian stood there in nothing but loose sweatpants, hair wet from a shower, eyes heavy
Ten Sinful Commandments 083: In the Dark, He Watched
Lydia stirred against Damian’s chest. Her skin still glowed from the aftershocks, her thighs slick with satisfaction, her wrists marked faintly by the cuffs. But her mind… her mind wouldn’t settle.Because even in the heat, even in Damian’s arms, she could feel it—The eyes.Watching.She turned slowly toward the corner of the room, where the shadows didn’t quite behave. The velvet drapes were drawn, but a red light blinked softly in the dark. She jolted upright.“Damian… what is that?”He tensed beside her. Too quickly.She shoved the covers away and slid off the bed, naked and flushed, but no longer dazed. Her feet padded silently across the floor. The red light blinked again.Tiny.Hidden.A camera.She gasped. “Is this on?”He was out of bed in a second, grabbing the device and yanking it from the wall like it burned him.“I didn’t put this here,” he snapped.Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. “You expect me to believe that? After everything? There was a camera watching us jus
Ten Sinful Commandments 082: Underneath the Studio Floor
It was sometime after midnight, but sleep had no place in their world anymore.Not after what they’d just done.Not after the tape.Not after Maxim Blackwell’s name was whispered in the dark.And certainly not after Lydia begged Damian to take her rougher, only to lose herself in the way he owned her like no one else ever had.The studio above them was still—eerily still.But beneath it, the hidden floor creaked softly under Lydia’s bare feet as she followed Damian through a narrow corridor lit by red emergency bulbs that pulsed like a heartbeat. Her body still ached, her thighs tender, her skin marked by him—but she couldn’t stop.She didn’t want to.Damian stopped in front of a wall. Smooth. Seamless.Until he pressed his palm into a black sensor.Click.A secret door slid open.Cool air swept over them.Inside was a chamber colder than the rest of the house—lined with velvet curtains, a strange scent in the air. Something like candle wax, leather… and lust.She stepped in slowly. “
Ten Sinful Commandments 081: Do You Want It Rougher?
The question lingered in the air like smoke—dark, thick, and impossible to ignore.Lydia’s back was already pressed against the cold paneling of the hidden room Maxim Blackwell used to haunt. Her wrists trembled, but not from fear. No… this was something else. Something hotter. Hungrier. Something she hated herself for craving.Damian stood before her, his tie loose, shirt open, the fury in his eyes slowly dissolving into something much more dangerous—desire with no filter. No control.His thumb brushed the edge of her jaw, tilting her face up. “You’re still scared of me, aren’t you?”Her lips parted. “I don’t know what you are.”“I don’t, either,” he whispered, stepping closer. “But I know what I am when I touch you.”His mouth crashed onto hers—raw, punishing, claiming her like he needed to erase every trace of Maxim Blackwell’s shadow from her skin. She clawed at his shirt, breathing him in, tasting the man who had become her obsession… her addiction.And then his hand wrapped arou
Ten Sinful Commandments 080: Licked Where It Burns
The office still smelled like sin.The air was thick with the heat of what they’d just done, and Lydia’s body still pulsed with the aftershocks—raw, open, and owned. Her legs trembled slightly as she pulled her dress back down, her eyes never leaving Damian’s.He watched her like he always did. With reverence. With hunger. With that dangerous glint that made her wonder if he’d follow her into hell just to touch her again.But beneath it all, something had shifted.Something vital.“I need to know what your father was planning,” she said, her voice low but firm. “No more delays. No more distractions.”Damian moved to the locked drawer beneath the tapes. “I haven’t opened this one before. But I know his handwriting—he labeled this file ‘Final Transaction.’”The words alone made Lydia’s skin crawl.He unlocked it, slid out a velvet folder with black trim. Inside were photographs. Dozens of them.Her.Damian.Together—on the yacht. In the club. Even the very first night at the bar. All of
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