Mag-log inEVELYNI wake slowly the next morning, sunlight filtering through the lace curtains of my new bedroom. My body feels heavy and deliciously used, a pleasant soreness between my thighs and across my breasts reminding me that last night wasn’t just a vivid dream. Elias is real. The ghost who haunts this house wants me, and I want him just as badly.I stretch languidly under the sheets, my nipples tightening at the memory of his invisible mouth sucking on them. A soft smile curves my lips. “Good morning, Elias,” I whisper into the quiet room. A gentle breeze stirs the curtains in response, and I feel a warm phantom touch brush across my cheek like a kiss.My bladder urges me up. I pad naked to the large en-suite bathroom, the old tiles cool beneath my feet. The shower is a beautiful claw-foot tub with a rainfall showerhead I’ve been excited to try. I turn the water on hot, letting the steam fill the room before stepping under the spray. The heat cascades over my skin, soothing my muscles
EVELYN. I’m standing in the middle of the old Victorian parlor, dust motes dancing in the late afternoon light streaming through the tall windows. The house creaks softly around me as if welcoming its new owner. I’ve just finished unpacking the last box, and my muscles ache pleasantly from the long day. This beautiful, slightly eerie home on the edge of town was a steal, but the real estate agent’s nervous smile still lingers in my mind.That night, after a hot shower, I slip into bed wearing an oversized t-shirt and soft shorts. The antique four-poster bed feels luxurious. I drift off quickly.Sometime in the deep hours of the night, I wake with a start. The room is cool. A gentle breeze brushes my cheek though the windows are closed. I sit up, heart racing, scanning the shadows.“Hello?” I whisper.Just as sleep tugs at me again, a light touch trails along my arm, warm fingertips gliding from wrist to elbow. The sensation is deliberate. It moves across my collarbone, slow and exp
LILA.I’m still trembling against the wall, my leg draped over Damien’s shoulder, when he lowers it slowly and stands. My pussy throbs from the force of the orgasm, slick and oversensitive. He towers over me, his steel-gray eyes burning with controlled hunger. The taste of me still glistens on his lips.“Color?” he asks again, voice low but steady.“Green, Sir,” I breathe, even as my knees feel weak. I want more. I need to push him further.A ghost of a smirk touches his mouth. “Good. Because we’re nowhere near finished.”He steps back and gestures toward the center of the room. “Go to the St. Andrew’s cross. Face it. Arms up.”My pulse spikes. The large wooden X stands waiting, cuffs dangling from the top and bottom. I walk on shaky legs, the silk slip still bunched around my waist, my red heels clicking against the floor. I can feel his eyes on my marked ass with every step. The sting from the crop flares hotter as I move.I press my front against the smooth wood, raising my arms. D
LILA.I’m standing in the center of the dimly lit playroom, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wants to break free. The air carries a faint scent of leather and warm sandalwood. Soft recessed lighting casts long shadows across the dark wood floors and the carefully arranged implements lining the far wall. I’ve only been here seven minutes, and already the urge to push is crawling under my skin.I’m dressed exactly as he requested: a short black silk slip that barely skims mid-thigh, no bra, no panties. My nipples are tight and sensitive from the cool air and the thick anticipation humming through me. My long auburn hair falls loose down my back, just the way he specified. But I couldn’t resist one small act of defiance. Instead of the plain black heels he instructed, I’m wearing these cherry-red ones with the wicked ankle straps that make my legs look sinful.Bratty? Absolutely. That’s the entire point.The heavy door clicks open behind me. I don’t turn around. I hear his me
ANISSAThe Delacroix meeting runs three hours.Throthe is sharp across the conference table in a way that reminds me exactly who he is outside of linen shirts and airport arrivals. Precise. Methodical. Watching opposing counsel the way you watch something you're about to take apart, waiting for the exact moment to move.I match him the whole way through.By the time we're done the sun has dropped behind the water and the hotel corridors are quiet with that specific evening quiet of places where everyone has somewhere better to be.Back in the suite the ocean sits dark through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the last light completely gone from it. The jacuzzi on the private terrace is already running, steam rising off the surface into the warm evening air.Throthe sets his jacket over the chair by the window and loosens his tie."The jacuzzi," he says."What about it.""Come in with me."I look at the terrace. At the water lit from underneath. At him standing there with his tie half undo
ANISSAHe stands with his back against the locked door and looks at me with the patience of someone who planned this well before following me in here.This isn't his courtroom look. That one has more dry calculation behind it, the specific focus he uses when he's building toward something in front of a jury. What's on his face right now is quieter and more direct and considerably harder to manage in a room this small."You followed me into a restaurant bathroom," I say."I did.""That's insane.""Probably." He moves away from the door. "You were gone too long.""It's been four minutes.""Couldn’t let you get lost in your head." He murmurs, “You probably already were before I showed up.”"I'm always thinking.""About me. Specifically."I hold his gaze.He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. The touch is simple and unhurried and nothing like the way he usually handles things which always has somewhere to be and something to prove."Say it," he says.Why pretend?"I wa
TALIA. I spent three days packing, filling out paperwork, and waking up with my hand between my legs after dreams so explicit I could barely look at myself in the mirror. Now I’m standing in front of the neutral manor with two trunks of belongings and a magically binding contract that says I bel
TALIA. The contract sits between us like a challenge. Thirty pages of legal language, binding clauses, and blank spaces waiting to be filled. I’m flipping through it while they watch me from opposite sides of the table, and the silence has weight to it. Anticipation. “First question,” I say,
TALIA. I write everything down, and the scratch of pen on paper is the only sound for a long moment.“Now,” I say, setting down the pen. “Before we go any further with specifics, I think we need to address something.”“What’s that?” Thane asks.“You’ve both just spent two hundred thousand marks co
JAXON.We’re lying in bed, sweaty and satisfied, when Harper spots the balcony.“Is that a jacuzzi?”I follow her gaze through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Yeah. Penthouse suite perk.”“It’s freezing outside.”“That’s what makes it good. Hot water, cold air.” I’m already getting up, grabbing robe







