บททั้งหมดของ The Devil's Mistress: บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

ROXANNE POV His eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the soft kisses I rained on his face, savoring each gentle touch. He leaned into my kisses like a man starved for affection, his hands moved slowly up my spine to hold me closer. He nuzzles his nose against mine affectionately before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. I smiled as he started placing slow kisses on my forehead, cheeks and neck. His hands spread wide on my back, his thumbs making slow circles as he kissed along my neck and I tilted my head slightly to give him better access. When he reached a spot behind my ear, I exhaled shakily and he let out a low hum of contentment, his hand gently massaging my scalp. His usual dominant demeanor was completely melted away by tender affections. "Damien..." His breath hitches as I reached down to his sleep pants, one hand still gently caressing his face while the other moves to the hem of his pants. He was rock hard despite himself, his hips lifting slightly to

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

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

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

ROXANNE POVI stood at the start of the aisle with my heart beating louder than the soft orchestra playing somewhere in the courtyard.This was it.The moment that changed everything.I tightened my grip around the bouquet in my hands as I lifted my gaze and looked ahead. The red petals decorating the aisle seemed almost unreal beneath my feet, scattered like fragments of rubies against the dark velvet runner that stretched toward the altar.Beside me stood Parrin Raphaël.Damien's father.The powerful man who rarely showed emotion now held his arm out to guide me forward. His expression was composed as always, but there was something steadier about his presence today. Almost respectful."Ready?" He murmured quietly.I nodded once.Then the music swelled slightly, and we began to walk. The world seemed to slow as we moved down the aisle together.Ahead of us, little Angelina walked proudly, tossing flower petals from her basket with dramatic seriousness. Every few steps she would glan