Lahat ng Kabanata ng 365 Days Of Pleasure: Please Me!: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

It’s another night. Another night to be fucking humiliated behind a pole I dread nearing so much if not for the demands of the job. And every damn time I ask myself how did I end up here but then there’s the answer so stark in my face that there’s no denying how necessary this is. It’s cruel and I don’t deserve it. It’s unbearable how deceitful I’ve become for the sake of my situation. People even take advantage of it. Being the face of the nightclub, Midnight Dreams, I’m not so desirable by many. Or should I say by my colleagues. Mischief has become my constant companion on set. I've grown accustomed to finding cat fur tangled in my wig, nail polish remover replacing the original contents of my nail polish container, and sand lurking in my foundation. It is all in a night’s work. But as long as the paycheck clears, and Sandy's needs are met, I grit my teeth and tolerate the antics. The scowls and yells are just for show. Deep down, I know I'd put up with far worse for the sak

Sunlight streams through the fluffy curtains of my window, casting a golden glow across my room. Its rays pierce through my eyelids, disrupting my peaceful sleep. I groan, raising a hand to shield my face from the sun's brutality. It works for as long as I can hold my hand up. However, my muscles soon tire out, and I peek my eyes open. I stretch, feeling the softness of my sheets rubbing smoothly against my skin. A gentle ache in my muscles reminds me of last night's draining events. "I think I had too much to drink last night,", I rasp, massaging my scalp to ease my throbbing head. The memory of my first client from last night lingers. His intense gaze and chiseled features are still fresh in my mind. I can't help but feel drawn to him, both physically and intellectually. There's just something so mysterious about him that intrigues me. It's somewhat satisfying. Our encounter was more than just a transaction; he wanted me to enjoy it too. "This would have been a wild d

My world instantly freezes as my eyes shift to the face of the man I have collided with. My senses dull as I struggle to process what is happening. My eyes lock on Luca’s, empty and void of emotions but also swirling with shock and confusion at the same time. I try to desperately match the dots that connect the man before me with the stranger from the steamy night before. The same piercing gaze that had seen right through my soul. The same chiseled features. The same mouth that had claimed mine, igniting a fire that still burns in me. “How..”, I whisper, my voice barely audible. My mind is a maelstrom of confusion and shock. How could this be? The CEO of Démon and Co., the kingpin of the fashion world, is the same man who had stirred desires I thought were long dead? He’s going to be my boss? My face flames with embarrassment. My skin prickles with memories of his touch, every caress now tainted by the harsh light of reality. And his lips. M

“Mr. Dévon I—,”, Rachel stutters,her voice trailing off into a stunned whisper. She stands frozen in the doorway, her eyes widened in shock. As she takes in the intimate scene before her, her mind refuses to grasp the situation. My cheeks, initially flushed from Luca’s seductive move earlier, deepens into a deep crimson hue. My eyes dart downward as I tuck my bottom lip into my mouth. I begin to suck fervently, a nervous habit I couldn't shake. Luca's gaze shifts to Rachel’s face, an amused expression drawn on his face. “It seems we have an audience, Stella," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Luca’s brows furrowed as he notices my lip-sucking. He reaches out, his fingers grazing my chin, and gently pulls my lip free. “I would appreciate you not doing that. It's mine to do,", his voice laced with possessiveness. Rachel stands frozen, still unable to recover from her shock. The air is thick with tension as her gaze dances between Stella and her

“That is my husband, Luca!" My voice trembles as I point at Luca. The man emerges from the darkness, his gaze fixed on Jamie's limp body. Luca's expression remains stoic, his eyes glinting with strange calmness. His calm demeanor contrasts completely with his brewing rage. “I do not care," he drawls. I watch in horror as Luca's finger swoops down, his nail tracing a deliberate path across Jamie's throat. The soft whisper of skin against skin makes my stomach churn. “I... do not...", his voice drips with disdain. His finger pauses, then swipes downward, the motion almost lazy. Above us, the wedding picture of Jamie and I, our serious expressions a stark contrast to the chaos below, teeters on the wall. The frame creaks, then crashes down, landing with a dull thud on Jamie's chest. The glass shatters, splintering our frozen smiles. Luca's gaze flicks to the photo, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “..like him,", he finishes, his voice dripp