Semua Bab Wet Confessions: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Confession recovered from the lost Temple of Aeyra. Bound in crimson silk and sealed with sacred wax.They say the desert never forgets. But the dunes of Arkenash buried my shame under layers of scorched sand, swallowing the echo of my moans where no goddess dared listen.His name was Daryth Vorn. The Beast of Istavar. The man who would unmake me.The first time I saw him, I was in a trance, draped in sheer ceremonial veils, preparing a sacred oil bath for the goddess's blessing. The temple's dome was wide open to the heavens, letting the scent of saffron, myrrh, and anticipation fill the sacred chamber. I had not known a man's gaze until then. The acolytes whispered of lust. I knew only prophecy until he arrived.He did not speak when he entered. He didn't have to. The temple guards fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hush in deference to his presence. I knew who he was by the iron in his stare and the heat crawling between my thighs. I knelt, head bowed, hiding the way my nipples b

The Keycard and the CodewordI didn’t come to the Gloriana Hotel for love.I came for escape.The moment I walked through the lobby’s revolving doors, the weight of my real life fell off like a silk robe. In here, I wasn’t Elara Mathis legal consultant, overworked daughter, trauma survivor.I was Miss Mirage. An alias created purely for desire.Room 517. A suite booked under a fake name. A ritual sealed with rules.No real names.No backstory.No contact after checkout.And the man waiting behind the door tonight? He wasn’t my lover.He was a mystery I had ordered with a codeword."Noir."When the door swung open, he was already in character black dress shirt unbuttoned to the sternum, a tie hanging loose like a noose of temptation. His hair was damp, tousled, like he’d been pacing before I arrived.He didn’t smile.He looked at me like hunger personified.“I’ve been waiting, Miss Mirage,” he said, his voice dark velvet.“You always do, Mr. Noir.”And just like that, the game began.T

The email came at 2:47 AM. No subject line. No sender. Just one line of text:“Come prepared to serve.”Attached was a digital boarding pass and an encrypted set of coordinates. And three days later, Lena stepped off a private black car in the middle of nowhere miles away from cell towers, streetlights, and her curated online life.The estate was wrapped in shadows and fog, like it had been plucked from a dream just to test her sanity. Gothic gates groaned open for her, but no one stood to greet her. Just silence and a low pulse of classical music drifting from deep within the walls.She didn’t know what she expected a receptionist, a smug concierge, maybe a hostess in a silk robe offering her champagne and a safety word. Instead, the front doors swung inward the moment she touched the brass handle, revealing a grand foyer lit by golden sconces and hundreds of white candles.The air smelled like cedarwood, orange blossom, and something darker almost feral.Then came the voice.Low. Ma

THE FIRST GLANCEThe ballroom glittered with the kind of decadence only old money could afford satin draped tables, crystal flutes brimming with golden champagne, and violins singing softly over the hum of elite conversation. Chandeliers loomed above like icy crowns, but nothing in the room sparkled quite like her. Seraphina Cruz moved through the sea of gowns and tuxedos like a flame in velvet. Her dress was dark wine nearly scandalous spilling low across her spine and clinging to every sinful curve. It was her subtle rebellion, a way to remind her father that she was no longer his little girl, and certainly not a pawn in his corporate chessboard. But even she wasn’t prepared for the man who stepped into the room. He didn’t belong to this polished world not completely. His presence was too raw, too commanding, like a wolf among silk clad lambs. Broad shouldered, towering, effortlessly composed in a black-on-black suit that made him look like power incarnate. His dark hair was slic

She wanted to humiliate her enemy’s sugar daddy until he made her melt like warm frosting on his tongue.PART 1 — SUGARGLAZE SINNERKeira didn’t come for the cupcakes.She came to ruin someone’s perfect little setup.The soft bell over the glass door chimed as she stepped into Dolce & Crave, the most obscenely expensive patisserie in town. Everything inside shimmered in soft cream and gold the ceiling hung with chandeliers that didn’t belong anywhere near a bakery. But Keira wasn’t distracted by the pastries. She had a different craving.She was here to meet the man who had been spoiling Vanessa the same Vanessa who had humiliated her in front of the entire student council, laughed at her vintage shoes, and flaunted a designer lifestyle paid for by someone she only referred to as Mr. R.Keira’s phone buzzed.Vanessa: Going to see Daddy Hope your thrift store doesn’t close too early today, peasant xKeira’s fingers curled around her phone. Not because of the insult she was used to tho