All Chapters of Devil's Bidding: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Home.This empty place, haunted and soaked in nightmares. A glistening prison for two. The moment he had stepped into his room, her scent had hit him soft, warm, maddening. For a fleeting second, it felt like peace.As if the fury he had walked in with was dissolving, leaving him suspended, frozen in space.And then, he laughed.Laughed at the absurdity of it all.What was he thinking, making her crawl into his bed?And then she had stepped in, looking like sin itself wrapped in silk,And for a heartbeat, he almost forgot.Almost forgot that this place was a prison—A cage meant for the two of them.Then she had the audacity to call it home.If those words had come from anyone else’s lips, he would’ve hurled them out the door.But it was her.And with her, he did the opposite.The opposite of what his mind demanded as he had been doing for several weeks now. Held her even closer. He hated her. Despised her.Because one man’s selfishness to keep her alive had buried his own family i

Arabella “I got you something. Come.”I hesitated at the threshold of the dimly lit dining room, my fingers curling into fists as my eyes narrowed on Lucas. He was up to something, I could feel it in the smug way he lounged in his chair, a predator patiently waiting.There was no way this was a harmless gesture. Not after the spectacle I made this morning, defying him with sharp words, telling him I’d rather be a dog than let him touch me whenever he pleased. His so-called gift? It wouldn’t be anything good. It never was.Still, my feet carried me forward, slow and cautious, until I stood before him.Slowly I went down to what by usual position should be whenever we had dinner. The cold floors. “Arabella,” he purred, my name dripping from his lips like molten silk.A shiver licked down my spine at the way he said it. I tilted my head back, forced to look up at him, and in that moment, I was painfully aware of how close we were. I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw,

Arabella paced the room like a caged animal, her bare feet soundless against the luxurious carpet. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. She was restless. Agitated. Trapped in her gilded prison with no one to scream at. She stopped in front of the mirror, her breath uneven.The collar glinted mockingly at her throat.She stared at her reflection, eyes narrowing as her fingers trailed over the smooth leather. The device beneath it shifted with every breath—subtle but maddening—like invisible fingers dancing along her skin, teasing her mercilessly.It was unbearable.With a surge of frustration, she spun toward the vanity and yanked open the drawers, her hands rummaging blindly. Her fingers closed around a pair of nail scissors—thin, delicate, but sharp. Good enough.Standing before the mirror again, she pressed the blade to the collar and began to saw at it.It didn’t give.Her breaths grew ragged, a mix of panic and fury surging in her chest.Why wouldn’t

Arabella I arched into Lucas, my nails catching on the fabric of his shirt, pulling, needing. Every nerve in my body was strung tight, every breath shallow. And then—God—everything snapped, spilling over in a rush that left me trembling.My eyes flew open.He wasn’t there.I froze, scanning the room, my pulse still racing. Just me. Tangled sheets. Skin slick and hot. The low hum of electronics. My own uneven, sexual panting.No freaking way.I’d just dreamt of Lucas. An intense, consuming make-out session with Lucas. My body clenched at the memory—it felt too real, too sharp to be fake.Was I really that miserable? Dreaming about him like that?But it had felt so real.I stayed awake the rest of the night, wide-eyed and restless. My whole day was miserable. “You should get dressed. It’s dinner time.”Beth’s voice grated in my ears later that evening. I sighed. I knew the maids were paid to be here, but they were odd and rather shameless. Dolling up a forced woman like kids playing

Lucas kept her pinned against him, his arms around her trembling frame. She was curled small against his chest, her body shuddering with every silent sob she tried to choke back. Her fists were balled tightly at her sides, nails digging into her palms, but she didn't push him away.He shifted her slightly, hoisting her higher in his arms, adjusting her until she was cradled against him as though she were something fragile—precious cargo he hadn’t meant to damage. His touch, now slow and deliberate, moved over her like a strange, dissonant comfort, his palm resting lightly at the small of her back, dangerously close to the heat of her stinging skin.They stayed like that for a long while. The room was silent, the only sound her muffled sniffles and the uneven drag of her breathing. Gradually, her breath began to steady. He knew—without needing to be told—that this had been her first taste of humiliation like this. She had probably never been spanked… never been touched in such a way