Semua Bab Sinful Seduction (Exotica Collection): Bab 151 - Bab 160

The private elevator opened directly into a hallway lined with black marble and soft, recessed lighting. The city’s skyline glittered through glass walls at the far end, but Elena’s attention locked on the three men waiting for her.Cassian stood at the center in a fitted dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, as if he had been working and only just decided to stop. Magnus leaned against the wall to the left, jacket gone, black shirt buttoned to the throat. Soren lounged on the arm of a leather sofa, glass of amber liquid in one hand, smile already forming as his eyes ran over her.She stepped out, the click of her heels sharp against the marble.“Green,” Cassian said before she could speak.“Green,” she confirmed, pulse quickening.“Good,” Magnus said, straightening from the wall. “Come here.”She obeyed without hesitation, moving toward them, the air between them thick with silent instructions.Soren set his glass down and approached from the side. “Rule tonight is simple. You

Aria did not mean to stay.She only wanted the shot. One image to finish the series no gallery would hang but every collector whispered about. The service stair behind the old theater led to a steel door with a brass plate. The Vault. She pressed her ear to the metal and heard music with no melody. Only a dark pulse.The door opened from the inside. Two men in black looked her over, saw the camera at her hip, and said nothing. One tilted his head. Enter.She slipped past them into a world that smelled of leather, smoke, and warm skin. The light was low and red. Corridors branched like veins. Masks everywhere. Velvet, leather, metal. People moved with purpose. No one hurried. No one fumbled. The sound of breath seemed part of the music.Aria lifted the camera and let it hang. She knew better than to raise it yet. She walked, eyes wide, memorizing what her lens would want. Alcoves. A line of polished rings bolted into stone. A mirror that turned bodies into shadows and gold.She almost

The chamber was quiet when she woke.The lights were low, the air still. The collar rested against her skin, a familiar weight.Dorian sat in the armchair by the wall, a glass of something dark in his hand. He was already watching her.“It is your last hour,” he said.She sat up slowly. “It went fast.”“That is because you stopped fighting time,” he said. He stood, set the glass down, and came to the edge of the bed. “You can leave when the hour ends. Or you can ask to stay. The choice is yours. But I will know which you truly want.”Her pulse quickened. “How will you know?”“Because I will test you.”He held out his hand. She placed hers in it without thinking. He pulled her to her feet, then unclipped the collar. For the first time in two days, her neck felt bare. The absence was sharper than the leather.“Come,” he said.He led her through the halls, past familiar shadows and faces that turned to watch. But this time, there was no leash, no cuffs. She was free to step away. She did

The silk-draped room breathed like a living thing.Sienna stood just inside the door, back to the cool wood, heartbeat matching the gentle thrum of hidden speakers. The bed was too large, the table too elegant, the air too warm. Four men watched her as if the night had been designed in advance and she had arrived right on time.Vincent spoke first. “Color.”She remembered the word from downstairs, the way he had said it like a password. “Green.”“Good,” he said. “That stays true at all times. You will tell us if it changes.” He turned to the others without taking his eyes off her. “Ground rules.”Julien pushed off the table and came closer, voice a caress. “You can stop anything with one word. Say red and it ends. No penalties, no debts, no questions.”“Yellow,” Marco added from behind her, warm palm settling for a second at the small of her back, “means slow down, change pace, adjust.”Elias closed the circle with quiet authority. “Green stays green until you say otherwise. Speak cle

The low thrum of bass pulsed through the walls as Leona stepped deeper into the hidden corridors of the club. She had passed velvet curtains, security doors, and hallways lit with gold sconces, each one taking her further from the main floor where laughter and champagne masked the darker business beneath. She was supposed to be gathering proof, slipping in and out unseen. But the deeper she went, the more the air felt different — warmer, thicker, scented faintly with leather and amber.Her heels made almost no sound on the carpet, yet she moved like a shadow expecting to be caught. The door she approached was unlike the others — heavy wood with no handle on the outside. A single keyhole gleamed under the light. She crouched, pressing her phone’s camera toward it for a quick shot.A hand closed over her wrist.The grip was firm, cool, and unhurried. Leona spun around and found herself staring at a man she recognized immediately from whispered warnings and grainy photographs. Damien Cro