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119

Auteur: Toxic_Sweetie
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-31 23:17:21
ROXANNE POV

I woke up to the heavy weight of regret sitting right on my temples. My head throbbed. Everything was a blur at first, the dim sunlight peeking through thick curtains, the scent of cedarwood, and the dull ache that pulsed behind my eyes like a drum.

A groan escaped my lips as I twisted on the bed, the cotton sheets soft against my skin but doing nothing to comfort the pounding in my head.

God…the beach party.

I didn’t remember much after Damien had taken me to his car, but I rem
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  • The Devil's Mistress   128

    ROXANNE POV I stood still, breathing softly, as if even the air around me might crack if I moved too fast.Today was the day.The day I would take Damien’s name, Raphaël, and let it become mine. The day I would stop running. The day I would stop waking up in fear that Garry or Kendrick would one day drag me back into the darkness I had escaped.Today, I will become his wife.Angelina’s stepmother.And for the first time since childhood, I was choosing a future instead of surviving the past.My reflection stared back at me from the three-way mirror, almost unfamiliar. The woman looking back didn’t resemble the girl who once patched up gang members with trembling hands, or the girl who woke up from a coma missing entire pieces of her life.I wore an elegant ivory gown with a fitted lace bodice and a soft sweetheart neckline. Fine black embroidery threaded through the fabric like veins of ink, subtle enough to remain bridal, bold enough to honor the red-and-black theme of the Raphaël f

  • The Devil's Mistress   127

    ROXANNE POV Two hours later, I was sitting at the bachelorette party…groaning softly and biting my lip, trying to ignore the overly sensitivity and soreness between my thighs from Damien’s “lesson” earlier. I couldn't even be mad, I started it. I poured fuel on the fire and then got burned, in the best way possible. My cheeks were still warm just thinking about it, but Dahlia’s voice jolted me back into the reality of the night."Roxanne!" She yelled over the music, tossing back a shot. "Come on, loosen up! You’re the bride, for God’s sake!" The bass thumped so hard I could feel it in my chest, lights flashing red and gold across the sleek, dark interior of the private club Dahlia had rented out.And that's when I realized exactly what kind of venue we were in.A male strip club.Of course she would.I shot her a look, but she just grinned wickedly, dragging me toward the stage where her friends were already screaming, laughing and tossing euros into the air while the dancers work

  • The Devil's Mistress   126

    ROXANNE POV "Still sulking?" I smirked, glancing back at him. He spanked me harder this time and I let out a soft moan which was muffled by the pillow beneath me. My body arch slightly against his, and my hands clutched the sheets tightly as I felt the sting spread across my ass. My hips pressed back against him, responding to the spanking. Suddenly, he pushed my dress up roughly and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, before tearing them off completely with a sharp tug. Then, he slid two fingers roughly into my pussy without warning. I gasped loudly as he curled them deep, hitting that sensitive spot that makes my knees buckle. He started fingering me harshly while his thumb pressed against my clit. "Still got a smart mouth?" I bit my lip to muffle my moans against the pillow, my hips grinding against his fingers as he stretched me open. He added a third finger as his hand moved mercilessly against my sensitive pussy. Without warning, he hooked his

  • The Devil's Mistress   125

    ROXANNE POV As soon as we stepped into the guest house, Damien didn’t waste a second. I barely had time to set the roses on the counter before he caught my wrist and pulled me into him. His lips crashed against mine in a deep, yearning kiss, his hand sliding around my waist as if he couldn’t get close enough. I smiled against his lips, kissing him back slowly, letting myself melt into his warmth for just a moment. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as he held me close, one strong hand pressing into the small of my back. Then, reluctantly, he pulled away, his breath brushing against my ear. He whispered, low and rough, "Finally got you alone, kitten." A quiet laugh escaped me, soft but teasing, as I slipped out of his arms, stepping back before his hands could grab me again. "Mmm, not for long." I said over my shoulder, already heading for the stairs. "I need to get ready for the bachelorette party." He followed me, unhurried and like a shadow I couldn’t shake

  • The Devil's Mistress   124

    ROXANNE POV Cedric held out a plate of cake without a word and I took it, careful not to let our fingers touch. "You finally ready to be the daughter-in-law now?" He asked, voice low but edged with something sharp. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I narrowed my eyes on him. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking over to Dahlia laughing with Mrs. Clara’s friends on the other side of the room. "Or do you already see the real daughter-in-law in the room?" He smirked, before casually turning and walking across the room like he hadn’t just lit a match and tossed it at my patience. I set the plate down untouched. A few seconds later, Dahlia appeared beside me, watching Cedric’s retreating back as he walked out with the maids. "You okay?" She asked, brushing a loose curl from my face. I gave a small smile. "Yeah." She leaned in and whispered. "Be careful with Cedric. He’s a manipulative asshole and he has a talent for getting under people’s skin." I let out a small l

  • The Devil's Mistress   123

    ROXANNE POV It was the day of the bridal shower. I sipped from my champagne flute, the chilled sweetness doing little to calm the nerves pulsing beneath my skin. From the top of the grand staircase in the Raphaël estate’s main house, I could see the guests filtering in, women in tailored pastels and flashy designer heels, faces pulled tight with too much botox and even more judgment. They smiled like crocodiles. Mrs. Clara stood by the entrance like a queen greeting her court, all elegance and subtle cruelty in pearls and pristine ivory. She kissed cheeks, accepted gifts with dainty approval, and spoke softly with the kind of polish that made my skin crawl. Most of the women seemed to be friends of hers, powerful wives of Marseille’s wealthiest or extended relatives who probably hadn’t so much as looked in Damien’s direction for years. Meanwhile, the girls from Dahlia’s circle, who I’d met at the beach party, were already seated, chatting over champagne and mini cakes, the

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