I was told to submit my address, and I did. Then I made the necessary payment, which was quite cheaper than I thought. I also typed down my schedule because I didn’t want a situation where I would be out working and he would come in, only to find an empty house. I wanted to be ready. I wanted to be present.
Unlike my usual days of juggling four to five part-time jobs and returning home by 9 or 10 PM, completely exhausted, today was different. I only worked at the café and the library before returning home. Today was the very first day I had ever skipped three part-time jobs since the day I became a working adult—more like a working slave. My bosses were all understanding and kind. They said I needed the break because I was very hardworking, and because of that, I tended to ignore my health. “You deserve a day off, Nina,” my café manager had said, her voice warm. “You can’t keep running yourself into the ground.” I had nodded, grateful. A day off meant time to think, time to feel. And right now, feeling was what I needed. I opened the door to my apartment. I stepped inside, my heart pounding in my chest. The anticipation was unbearable. Would he come today? Tonight? I had no way of knowing. I set my bag down by the door and walked to the kitchen. I needed to distract myself, to keep my mind from spiraling into a whirlwind of what-ifs. I filled a glass with water and took a sip, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the heat simmering beneath my skin. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I nearly dropped the glass. My hands trembled as I pulled it out, the screen lighting up with a new message. **D: I’m here.** My breath caught. Two words, and yet they sent a jolt of electricity through me. I stared at the screen, my mind racing. Wait, he was outside, In the building? My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. Before I could type anything, another message came through. **D: Open the door.** My heart leaped into my throat. I set the glass down on the counter and walked to the door, my legs unsteady. I turned the knob and opened the door. He stood in the doorway, tall and commanding. His lean, muscular frame was outlined by the fading light. His shirt clung to his broad shoulders and defined chest, while his rugged face—sharp jawline, crooked nose, and faint stubble—added a raw edge. Dark, tousled hair fell just past his ears, and his stormy gray eyes burned with a wild intensity. He was the type of man I've always wanted—the subject of my greatest fantasy come to life. A knowing smirk played on his lips, which were full and slightly chapped. His large, calloused hands spoke of strength and experience, and a worn silver ring on his right hand hinted at untold stories. Worn jeans hugged his hips and legs and the scent of leather and earth lingered on him. “Nina,” he said, his voice low and rough, like the growl of a predator. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “D?” It felt weird calling him that but I didn't want to intrude too much by asking his full name. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. I felt a surge of desire, hot and overwhelming. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. “Tell me you’re ready,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “I’m ready.” A slow smile spread across his face, dark and predatory. “Good girl.” His lips crashed onto mine, rough and demanding as he scooped me into his strong arms while I wrapped my legs around his waist. In the next moment, my back was pressed against the small table. I lived in a one-room apartment, which meant my bed and stove were in the same space as my living room. As for bathing, I had to use a tiny bathroom that was barely big enough to fit in. It provided just enough room to take a bath, but it was too cramped to squat down comfortably. Therefore, I always took my baths while standing in an awkward and painful position. I can't believe my first-ever sexual experience is gonna be in a place like this. Suddenly, D bit my neck, pulling the skin of that area a bit, and I gasped. Then he eased off the pain with his wet tongue, making a soft moan slip out of my tongue. “Don't think about anything else. Just focus on me,” He spoke, and I nodded. Then he slipped my clothes off me while I did the same to him, exposing his well-defined chest and biceps. My cheeks flamed up as his big dick hardened right in front of me. I've never had sex with anyone before, but I do know a big dick when I see one; although I don't look like it, I am a certified p**n addict. This was the biggest I'd ever seen and it got my pussy so wet. Fuck, I needed him inside me quickly. As if reading my mind, he positioned himself in between my legs and started to push in. My whole body tensed up in both pain and pure ecstasy. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, and I reached out to wrap my arms around his neck as my fingers dug into his shoulders. He didn't whisper sorry to me, neither did he pause his movement to ask me if I was okay. I was glad for that. I wasn't those women who'd like their first time to be magical and a fairytale. That was why I had thoroughly described my fantasies, and I am glad he was following them as I wanted. He was already halfway through, and he slammed his whole length into me in one swoop. For the first time, I felt as though I had died and gone to heaven. However, with the act I'm performing right now, I guess hell would be my final destination. It hurt so bad; I guess the reason why it hurt so bad was because I had never done this before. D started to thrust into me so roughly that it felt as if my insides were about to split in half. His big palm reached for my breasts and gave them a rough squeeze. My moan was loud and a reflection of how much I loved what he was doing to my body. I felt my whole body heat up in pleasure as he continued thrusting into me like a madman on the loose. My body bounced and trembled with each thrust as never-ending pleasure and pain—a sweet mix of both coursed throughout my whole body. Then he pulled out and I frowned. I raised my face to ask him why he had stopped when he slammed into me with brute force. My whole body trembled and my legs almost gave out. The table creaked loudly and shook vehemently with each powerful thrust, and I knew, I might have to pay for a new one sooner than later. “I... I am cumming” I gasped as waves of pleasure rippled through me as I came apart on his big dick. “Mmmhh, fuuuck,” I moaned, riding out the sensations. D's balls drew up as he got close. “I'm gonna come so deep inside your pretty little pussy and breed you” Oh God, if only he knew what those words do to me. He started to pulse and twitch, his cock spurting streams of hot seed deep within my convulsing walls. I am flooded with his essence as we both shudder and moan through the intense, all-consuming orgasms.Chapter Three – Salem For three fucking days, I tried everything to make Lucian snap. I pushed, provoked, and tempted, but he didn’t even flinch. So, I gave up—for now and spent the next few days exploring the east wing of the mansion, my side of this cold, cavernous prison. That’s when I realized something eerie: only Lucian and I actually lived here. The maids and butlers came in during the day to clean, then vanished like ghosts. No one ever stayed. The silence was suffocating—the kind that crept into your bones. I once screamed just to test it, and the echo came back at me repeatedly, bouncing through the halls like a warning. It gave me chills every damn time. But what really got under my skin was the surveillance. Tiny, nearly invisible cameras tucked into corners, camouflaged in shadows. Lucian had eyes everywhere. Watching. Recording. Waiting. I rushed to my bedroom, heart racing, suddenly desperate to know if he’d placed a few there too. The second I found none, I f
Salem~ Lucian Vale was my mom's ex-lover. A man she couldn’t stop thinking about, not for a second. He occupied every corner of her mind, every glance, every breath. Because of him, the warmth in our home died slowly. The way my father used to look at my mother—with soft eyes and quiet admiration—turned into something bitter, hard. He started coming home later and later. Stopped talking during dinner. Until one day, he packed his things, signed the divorce papers, and walked out of our lives like he’d never belonged in them. As a kid, I didn’t understand why my father left. I thought maybe he just didn’t love us enough. Maybe he was the problem. But now… now that I’m older—now that I see the world for what it really is. I realized the truth. There was something wrong with my mom. Something obsessive. Twisted. She didn’t just love Lucian Vale. She worshipped him. My father probably got tired, frustrated, watching the woman he married fall to pieces over a man who wasn’t e
Salem~ I was only seven years old the first time I saw him. Still young and innocent, my mother had taken me to his mansion. I vividly remember how she looked—wearing a short red dress, cheeks flushed, eyes cast shyly at Mr. Lucian. She didn’t waste a moment pampering me with toys and my favorite sweets before slipping away down a shadowy hallway with him. At the time, I was excited, convinced my mother was simply trying to make me happy, like any loving mom would. But I didn’t realize then how hard she was working to keep me out of the way—distracting me, stalling me—so she could get exactly what she wanted. It didn’t just happen once. Or twice. It was every time we came. She’d take me there, drop me off in the living room with some toys and sweets, kiss my forehead like that made it okay, and then vanish down that dark hallway with him. But I was a kid. I noticed. And one day, I couldn’t help it. Curiosity shoved me off the couch, and I found myself tiptoeing toward that ha
AVA’S POVThe WeddingSometimes, I catch myself staring at her—Maria just to remind myself she’s real.Six months old, and already the center of our world. She had Wolfe’s lips and my nose, and eyes that were still deciding what color they wanted to be. Sometimes grey, sometimes brown, sometimes a soft storm between.Right now, she was in my mother’s arms, dressed in a tiny satin gown that had bows on the sleeves and frills that made her look like a walking cupcake. Wolfe had picked it out himself. Said it looked “regal.” He couldn’t stop fixing the bow on her headband all morning like it was the most important job he’d ever been given.I still couldn’t believe he was mine.He wasn’t supposed to be. But here we were. On our wedding day. And he was waiting for me at the altar.---When I first told my parents about Maria, I was terrified.They’d flown in the next day. Wolfe opened the door, and my mom just stood there, frozen, blinking past him into the living room where Maria was lyin
A nurse pressed our baby into her arms, and Ava let out this broken, breathless sound, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Ava's hands trembled as she cradled the tiny bundle close. The baby’s cries softened into little hiccuping whimpers, and she just stared, transfixed, her lips parted in shock. I couldn’t take my eyes off either of them. She was here. The baby was here. And I— I didn’t know what to do with the way my chest felt like it was caving in and expanding all at once. The nurse leaned in, smiling. “Congratulations. You have a daughter.” A daughter. I choked on air. She turned her head slightly, finally looking at me, her eyes wide and swimming with tears. “Wolfe,” she whispered, voice raw. “She’s—she’s ours.” I reached out, my fingers brushing the top of the baby’s head. It was so soft, so impossibly small and then I cupped her cheek, my thumb sweeping away the tears. “Yeah,” I rasped. “She is.” Our daughter. *Ours*. She let out a shuddering breath, he
WOLFE’S POV I heard her breathing before I even saw her. Labored. Tight. Shaky like she was holding it together with all her strength. And then I turned the corner and saw her half-collapsed by the garden, hands curled into the dirt like she’d fallen and hadn’t had the strength to get back up. My heart dropped. I don’t remember getting out of the car. I just remember the weight of her in my arms, her skin damp with sweat, her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line as she fought off whatever the hell was happening. She tried to speak, and I leaned in, desperate. “My back hurts,” she whispered. “And my stomach. It keeps coming and going like… waves.” I didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. Didn’t sound normal. I got her in the car and drove like the devil himself was chasing me. My knuckles went white on the wheel. I broke every traffic law I ever learned. She winced beside me, and I swear my chest cracked open. She was in pain. And I didn’t know how to stop