บททั้งหมดของ Deep Inside: บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

I woke in silk sheets that smelled like him, dark leather, pine, and something primal.The space was low-lit, shadows hugging every corner. I was still sore between my thighs, skin marked where he'd touched, claimed, punished. My wrists tingled from the cuffs. My nipples still throbbed from the clamps he'd removed with his mouth, slowly, like a reward. Like I was something to savor.And yet, I felt...alive.I sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around me, heart beating unevenly as I looked around the penthouse bedroom. Then I saw him—Caelan. Standing at the floor-length window, shirtless, his tattoos in full display. A jagged raven spanned his spine, wings black and torn. The muscles of his back moved with each breath like living armor."You disobeyed," he said without turning around. His voice wasn’t angry. It was...calm. Dangerous.“I didn’t mean to,” I said, quietly."You came without permission. Twice."I felt heat flood my cheeks. “I tried to hold back—”"You didn’t," he said. He

Genre: Explicit Steamy Fantasy Romance | Dragon Shifter | Dark Romance | Delayed Pleasure | Sex ToysCharacters:Ziaanat: A headstrong, curious mortal woman with dragon blood she doesn’t know about.Tovian: The unhinged, brooding Dragon King, tormented by centuries of hunger, lust, and a prophecy that names Ziaanat as his only release...The obsidian walls pulsed with a low, heated growl, like the heart of a beast slumbering inside them. Ziaanat stood shackled in silver cuffs, her bare feet chilled by the polished stone floor. The heat in the room, however, was oppressive. Sensual. It clung to her skin like dragonfire.Tovian watched her from his throne, sprawled lazily, one leg thrown over the side, his taloned fingers drumming against the carved stone. His golden eyes burned like twin furnaces beneath heavy lashes."You shouldn’t have come here," he rasped, voice thick with restraint. "But you did. So I’ll ruin you slowly."Ziaanat’s lips parted, part fear, part defiance. She’d e

They said never to enter the ashwood at dusk. That it belonged to the dragon who once razed an entire kingdom in the name of a stolen bride.I entered anyway.And I was taken.Now, I stood in the center of his chamber, naked, trembling, and chained in silver cuffs that glowed softly with magic. The walls were carved from ancient obsidian, warm to the touch, like the breath of something alive. Shadows danced across the high ceiling, cast by the flickering orange glow of the hearth. There was no furniture. Only a large stone bed with silk sheets and a chest.He watched me from the other side of the room, shirtless, lounging like a beast in human skin. His wings were furled tight behind him, his claws clicking rhythmically against the arm of his throne.Lord Vaelith. The Dragon King."You smell like defiance, girl," he said, his voice a deep purr. "And heat. The perfect combination."My throat tightened. I could still feel the burn from where his mouth had touched my neck when he brought

Trigger Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dominance, possessiveness, power dynamics, multiple partners, light restraints, consensual group sex.Main Characters: Serena Vale (FL), Dorian Blackwell, Luca Moretti, and Jace Rowe (Billionaire Trio)..The room smelled like sin, like cologne and whiskey and leather, thick with male hunger. Serena Vale stood in the center of the penthouse, the city glittering behind her through floor-to-ceiling windows, heart hammering in her chest.She’d signed the contract.One week. Three billionaires. No rules except consent.She’d needed the money, desperately. Her mother’s hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves, and the offer had been impossible to ignore. They hadn’t just wanted someone pretty. They’d wanted someone who wouldn’t run. Someone who could take it. Someone who’d break a little and like it.The first to appear was Dorian Blackwell. All tailored black silk, eyes like sharpened obsidian, jaw cut from power. He walked toward her slow

It was supposed to be just sex. Just survival.Serena kept reminding herself of that.But on Night Three, when Dorian poured a glass of wine between her breasts and licked it from her skin like a dying man tasting rain, she forgot every reason she’d come here.She had been sold to survive.Now she stayed to burn.They'd taken her to the rooftop of the Blackwell Tower—thirty-five floors above the city, the wind whispering across her bare skin, her wrists already strapped behind the wrought-iron railing. It wasn’t cold. Not when she was trembling for them. Not when her core was already aching before a single one of them touched her.The night sky stretched endless and wicked above her, stars barely visible through the haze of city light.“I can’t believe you wore nothing under that robe,” Luca murmured behind her, parting the satin slowly until it fluttered away like wings.He traced a finger down her spine, stopping just above her ass. “You want them to see you, bella? All those lights