Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

EVE.It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, but my body felt anything but beautiful. I had just finished sitting in a tub of mildly hot water to help with the sore between my legs.The sting was still there when I moved, reminding me of every single merciless thrust Saint had forced into me.I didn't have the luxury of resting. I had to go to Lanry Side. I had to find Coach. He was my only shot at talking to the woman who had supposedly bought Saint's Rolex.Two hours later, I was sitting across from him, my phone pressed against his ear, his thick brows knitted together. His forehead was creased deep as if the weight of the conversation was dragging down his entire face.His lips moved too quickly as Spanish rolled off his tongue, but it might as well have been another planet's language to me.I sat stiffly in my chair, fingers twisting together in my lap, trying to catch anything familiar.Most of it blurred past me. Until I heard the word "Asilo."It struck something in my memory.

KYRIE.Even though it pissed the shit out of me, I had to stop the car just a few minutes away from the house.I didn't want Eve to get into trouble with Saint; otherwise, I'd drop her off straight at his doorstep, just to make sure she was safe.We sat quietly after I killed the ignition. It was too fucking obvious we both had words choking in our throats, but couldn't bring ourselves to say them.Thankfully, she spoke first."Kyrie…" she shifted, brushing those lazy strands of brown hair behind her ear, biting her lip like she practiced it in the mirror. "I was wondering… is your job offer still open?"Bingo!I almost laughed in her face. Guess Friday night wouldn't be necessary anymore. She'd just walked into my trap on her own.If they don't call me the king of manipulation himself... What else am I?I leaned back, made sure the silence was comfortable enough between us long enough to make her twitch. Her fingers wouldn't stay still; she tucked them under her thighs like that woul

EVE.The kind of air that hit me first was so heavy and sensual. The kind of chill that crawled into your skin and settled there, like the walls themselves had been soaked in so many different types of forbidden sensual scents and smoke for years.The walls were painted a dark, matte black that seemed to absorb the light instead of reflecting it. Heavy hooks were bolted into them, thick steel rings big enough to hold chains. And there were chains — some hanging down in loops, others coiled neatly on racks like Saint had just organized them.My eyes darted to the far side, where a massive wooden X stood bolted to the floor and ceiling. The leather straps dangling from each corner glistened under the dim, amber light overhead. Across from it stood a tall steel cage. It was empty, but its door hung open like an invitation I'd never accept.And, God. Was that even a bed? It looked like a frame out of hell. Heavy iron, with long bars stretching above it. Shackles dangled from the rods, pos

EVE.The moment I realised I was lying on a bed, I jerked up too fast and nearly blacked out. My eyes scanned my environment.I winced, one hand holding my head, while the other pressed instinctively between my thighs.I was so weak and so sore that I couldn't even sit properly.Every inch of me screamed that last night had been too much."Oh, my God!" I gasped when I looked at the clock. It was already past 1 PM.Jesus. I'd been out all night.When my brain registered where I was, my breath caught. I was in Saint's room. On his bed.I had no memory after breaking apart in his dungeon, after the last orgasm ripped me into unconsciousness. Everything else was blank. But one thing I knew I wanted to do was to reach out to Kyrie before his offer elapsed.And now, it was way past morning.Shit.Saint had forced orgasms from me until I passed out. And from what I could see, he had cleaned me up and dressed me in one of his shirts.My throat worked hard around a lump. Saint Rollins didn’t do

KYRIE.Easy.Too fucking easy.I had sharpened a thousand answers in my head, rehearsed them like I was about to step into court, because of the inconsistencies and ridiculous terms and conditions the contract carried.But she didn’t even read the goddamn thing.She just signed.Pen down, soul sold.She might as well have drawn her blood across the paper and sealed it with her tears, because that was what it meant to me.Her name scrawled across my conditions wasn’t a joke. It was pure ownership. It was leverage. It was me tying a rope around her throat without even touching her.I was done pretending. I fucking need her.And she smiled when she did it. Hugged me, even. Like I was her savior instead of the devil waiting with open arms.That was the part that twisted the knife in deeper. She had no idea what she’d just walked into.No idea that clause six meant absolute obedience to any directive given in relation to the job. She thought that was just errands. Cute. Wait until she real