Lahat ng Kabanata ng Forbidden Pleasure: Sex, Secrets & Scandal: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

WHO'S THERELeona’s POVI walk into the house and it feels like someone hit the volume control on my chest — my heart starts beating like it wants to leap out. I don’t even know how to feel. All I know is: This is my first real party. And I’m the only one in a uniform wrapped in jeans and a hoodie.I quickly find my way to the restroom before more people notices what I was putting on. I remove my hoodie and put on my mini skirt. I look at the reflection of myself as I put on my lip gloss. My red lips shining, my stomach revealing itself.Music thumps so hard I can feel the beat in my ears when I step back outside. Neon lights hate my pupils. I squint and touch my chest. My breath is shallow. I take a step forward, look around, and freeze because there he is — Enzo — leaning against a wall like he’s been expecting me, arms crossed like he’s claiming me by not touching me. Our eyes meet and he straightens before racing over, relief and excitement in his grin.

DON’T PUNISH ME, MASTER Leona’s POV“You want to be touched so badly?” he says coldly. “You want attention so much you’ll give that pretty little mouth to anyone?”I kept staring at him, tears streaming down my cheeks. He then stripped my tank top up revealing my bra. He lifted me up roughly to unclasp it revealing my breast in the dark clouds.“I want you to always remember this,” he began pinching my pink nipples, softly at first then roughly.“Hmm, mmaarrccoo, please,” I begged.I could feel my pussy really getting soaked up underneath my panties but I was too hazled to register what was happening in my body.“Don’t say a word till I tell you to,” he said in an authoritative tone, as he kept pinching my nipples.He soon started sucking it, biting my nipples as his other hand grabbed my other breast, smooshing it roughly like he longed to do this.I could feel pains as he kept biting my nipples, but deep down I still wanted him t

I AM OBSESSED WITH YOUMarco POVI didn’t expect to see her. Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be in the city tonight. “Shit,” I muttered, not even looking down.“It’s really you, I missed you”The voice wasn’t familiar at first. Till I turned to see a familiar face.Veronica Russo. The daughter of Darlington Russo. My ex fiancée. She stood in front of me in a tight gold dress, her lipstick smudged, eyes glossy with alcohol and something else—regret, maybe. She leaned in; her breath sweet with wine.“Do you remember the last time we saw each other?”“Barely.”She giggled. “Of course, you do. You left me at that fundraiser with your father ranting about ‘disrespect.’” Her tone soured.I didn’t answer.She stumbled to the streetlight glow, blinked a few times. “You look… you look more handsome than the last time I saw you.”“You don’t,” I said. Not out of cruelty. Just the truth.She laughed. Loud and bitter. “Still cold. S

I MISS MY MOTHER'S PENDANT Leona’s POVHis gaze landed on me. I stood there shaking. He made approach. As I moved back a bit. Staring at his unreadable eyes.Without a word, he turned and walked away. I stumbled into my room.Slamming the door. I dropped to the floor. The storm hit me—grief, rage, shame, betrayal. I cried hard, broken.I stared at my palm. The scar of the injury I sustained when I was 17.The night my foster father came home drunk, he was dripping anger as usual. I had gone to bed early, hiding under blankets until the fuzzy call of sleep took me. But he’d kicked the door open, angry—vodka mouth, fists ready. He screamed, delivered questions like bullets: “Why will you sleep without waiting for me, huh?”I remember hugging the locket so tight it cut into my skin. He saw it, his face twisted. He grabbed it, dragged it away like it belonged to him. We struggled. The chain snapped. When he hit me hard, again and again the pen

I'm his submissive Leona POV I lay curled in the corner of my room, light creeping through the curtains, drawing thin stripes across my skin. Blankets tangled around me like child’s toy. My chest still beats fast from yesterday’s memory—his voice, the way he pressed me against the wall, the hunger in his voice, the fierce clench of his hands in my hair. It shouldn’t feel so… right. But it was. So impossibly right. Memories of him come back in vivid shards: his lips skimming my jaw, his fingers clutching me like he was afraid of losing something precious. I feel torn—like I’m both undone and made whole in the same moment. My body still tingles, wanting more while my heart braces for the ache that always follows. Tears prick my eyes, soft and steady. I bite my lip, trying to stop them. It doesn’t matter that I cry. Every time I think I've escaped his gravity, he radiates back: his heat, his power, his command. And I… I still wante