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Confession No 50: Her Daddy’s Rival
Last Updated:
2025-07-31 21:03:35
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Wet Confessions Confession No. 51: Sweet Tooth
She wanted to humiliate her enemy’s sugar daddy until he made her melt like warm frosting on his tongue.PART 1 — SUGARGLAZE SINNERKeira didn’t come for the cupcakes.She came to ruin someone’s perfect little setup.The soft bell over the glass door chimed as she stepped into Dolce & Crave, the most obscenely expensive patisserie in town. Everything inside shimmered in soft cream and gold the ceiling hung with chandeliers that didn’t belong anywhere near a bakery. But Keira wasn’t distracted by the pastries. She had a different craving.She was here to meet the man who had been spoiling Vanessa the same Vanessa who had humiliated her in front of the entire student council, laughed at her vintage shoes, and flaunted a designer lifestyle paid for by someone she only referred to as Mr. R.Keira’s phone buzzed.Vanessa: Going to see Daddy Hope your thrift store doesn’t close too early today, peasant xKeira’s fingers curled around her phone. Not because of the insult she was used to tho
Wet Confessions Chapter 19: The Groom’s Seat
❝I zipped her into her gown, but I wanted him to unzip me out of mine.❞ The bride was glowing. But I was burning. I fluffed her veil, forced a smile, and adjusted her bouquet like I hadn’t just had an eye fuck war with her soon-to-be husband behind the dressing room mirror. Everyone thought I was the perfect maid of honour. Polished. Loyal. Innocent. But if they knew what my thoughts sounded like the second he brushed past me, they’d set fire to the church and call me a whore in the morning. Jared. Golden skin, sleeves of tattoos hidden beneath his suit, mouth made for sin. And he was marrying my best friend. What started as innocent glances during fittings turned into flirtatious messages at 2AM. A joke about "accidentally" marrying me instead. The moment I pressed my thighs together wasn’t the moment I crossed the line. It was when I replied, “Maybe you should.” Now, thirty minutes before vows, he walked into the bridal prep room under the excuse of looking for champa
Wet Confessions Confession No 50: Her Daddy’s Rival
THE FIRST GLANCEThe ballroom glittered with the kind of decadence only old money could afford satin draped tables, crystal flutes brimming with golden champagne, and violins singing softly over the hum of elite conversation. Chandeliers loomed above like icy crowns, but nothing in the room sparkled quite like her. Seraphina Cruz moved through the sea of gowns and tuxedos like a flame in velvet. Her dress was dark wine nearly scandalous spilling low across her spine and clinging to every sinful curve. It was her subtle rebellion, a way to remind her father that she was no longer his little girl, and certainly not a pawn in his corporate chessboard. But even she wasn’t prepared for the man who stepped into the room. He didn’t belong to this polished world not completely. His presence was too raw, too commanding, like a wolf among silk clad lambs. Broad shouldered, towering, effortlessly composed in a black-on-black suit that made him look like power incarnate. His dark hair was slic
Wet Confessions Confession No. 49 Sleeping with the Enemy’s Daughter
They said she was soft.Spoiled. Obedient. Daddy’s little porcelain doll.But when I stormed her father’s villa with blood on my gloves and a grudge spanning three years, softness was the last thing I found.I expected fear.I got fire.The sky outside was soaked in violet dusk, the pool reflecting orange lanterns swinging in the breeze. She emerged from the water like a secret whispered into night wet, glistening, a lace one piece clinging to her like a sin undone. Her dark hair poured over one shoulder like wet silk, her lips glossier than the wine glass she reached for.She didn’t scream.She didn’t run.She raised her glass to me like she’d been expecting the devil and was ready to toast.“You’re him,” she said, slow and bored. “My father said you’d come for me one day. Just not so soon.”I should’ve knocked her unconscious. I should’ve cuffed her and dragged her out.But I didn’t.Instead, I watched as she took a bite of a ruby-red strawberry slow, sensuous, lips parting, tongue
Wet Confessions Confession No.48 THE OBEDIENCE RETREAT
The email came at 2:47 AM. No subject line. No sender. Just one line of text:“Come prepared to serve.”Attached was a digital boarding pass and an encrypted set of coordinates. And three days later, Lena stepped off a private black car in the middle of nowhere miles away from cell towers, streetlights, and her curated online life.The estate was wrapped in shadows and fog, like it had been plucked from a dream just to test her sanity. Gothic gates groaned open for her, but no one stood to greet her. Just silence and a low pulse of classical music drifting from deep within the walls.She didn’t know what she expected a receptionist, a smug concierge, maybe a hostess in a silk robe offering her champagne and a safety word. Instead, the front doors swung inward the moment she touched the brass handle, revealing a grand foyer lit by golden sconces and hundreds of white candles.The air smelled like cedarwood, orange blossom, and something darker almost feral.Then came the voice.Low. Ma
Wet Confessions Confession No 47: The Billionaire’s Boudoir Dare
Masquerade. One game. No names. Only dares.They say what happens at the Black Velvet Gala stays there. But no one told me what would happen if I stepped into the billionaire’s boudoir.I didn’t belong there. Not among billionaires, heirs, and masked devils who reeked of power and secrets. I was a low-level event photographer hired last minute to replace someone who dropped out. All I had was my camera, my anonymity, and a daring streak I usually kept hidden.He caught me in the restricted wing. I had been trying to snap a photo of the rare art rumoured to be hidden in the upstairs suite. I wasn’t supposed to open the door.And I definitely wasn’t supposed to step inside and see him.He wore a black mask with silver trim and no shirt. Just a velvet suit jacket and dark trousers. Hair wet from the rooftop rain. Bare chest glistening. Eyes pinned to mine like he had summoned me, not caught me.“You’re either bold or stupid,” he said. His voice was dark, slow, precise. A predator curious
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