Todos os capítulos de Sinful Seduction (Exotica Collection): Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

The fire had been lit before she woke.Sofia sat at the kitchen table in a simple cotton dress, sipping her second cup of coffee. She had found it neatly folded across the back of the chair when she came down. Not her dress. She hadn’t packed it. She would have remembered something that soft, that expensive, that particular shade of pale blue.She should have hesitated. Should have brought it to Malik and asked if it was a mistake.But she didn’t.Something about the way it lay there—freshly laundered, not a single wrinkle, her size exactly—made her curious. So she slipped it on and didn’t question why.Now she sat, pretending not to feel strange. The morning sun filtered through the windows in ribbons of gold, brushing across the table. The air smelled like pine and heat. And she could feel him watching her again.Malik stood in the archway to the living room, sketchbook in hand, gaze fixed on her as if she might vanish if he blinked. He said nothing. Hadn’t since she entered the kit

Sofia didn’t sleep that night.She stayed wrapped in the blanket Malik had draped over her after he carried her from the couch to the bed. His bed. Their bed, as he whispered against her ear, as if it had always been true. He had held her tightly, one arm wrapped across her waist, the other under her head, lips brushing her shoulder until his breath grew slow and steady.But she remained awake.Her body still ached with the memory of him. Every time she shifted, her thighs pressed together and she felt the echo of his thrusts, the way he had filled her, taken her, groaned her name and hers alone—though in her mind, she wasn’t sure which name he’d actually said.She rose before dawn.The air was cold. Her bare feet touched the wooden floor and sent a shiver through her bones. She walked to the mirror and stood in front of it.No robe. No earrings. No red dress.Just herself.And yet it wasn’t. She wasn’t.She looked into her own eyes and couldn’t tell what part of her belonged to the w

Ava’s first step past the velvet curtain felt like slipping into another world. The heavy fabric fell behind her, muffling the sounds of the club floor. Here, the air was thicker, warmer, more intimate. Red velvet lined the walls, dim spotlights focused on a central circular platform, and the faint scent of sweat and leather clung to every inch of the space. There were fewer people in this room, but the energy buzzed deeper, more controlled, like a held breath waiting to exhale.She stood at the threshold, unsure if she was supposed to move or wait for someone to direct her. Before she could decide, a soft but commanding voice sounded behind her. “Strip.”Ava turned sharply. A woman stood there, tall and statuesque in a tight black corset that cinched her waist impossibly narrow. She wore heels that clicked softly on the padded floor and gloves that reached to her elbows. Her eyes were cold, appraising, but her voice was velvet-wrapped steel.“I said strip.”Ava’s hands trembled sligh

The collar felt heavier around her neck tonight.Ava stood in front of the tall, mirrored wall inside the Crimson Room, her reflection split and multiplied in the dim lighting. Her body was bare except for the thin silk ribbon that crisscrossed her breasts and vanished between her thighs. Her wrists already bore faint red marks from the ropes used two nights before. The echoes of Master K’s voice still haunted her thoughts, each syllable dripping with ownership. She had belonged to him in every sense, taken beyond her limits, twisted into a trembling, obedient mess. And now she was here again. Not for him. Not for anyone she knew. Tonight, she was for them.An attendant approached her quietly. Masked. Male. Dressed in a sleeveless shirt and leather pants. He carried a black tray in his gloved hands and said nothing as he stopped beside her. On the tray were four items: a blindfold, a silver chain leash, a pair of clamps, and a slip of folded paper. Ava picked up the paper with trembli

Ava stood alone at the top of the black marble staircase, the same one she had first descended weeks ago. Her skin was marked, not with ink or bruises, but with memory. Her thighs still trembled from last night, when Master K had bred her twice before she passed out, his cum leaking from her every time she tried to close her legs. She should have been ashamed. She should have been afraid.But all she felt was hunger.She had become something else inside these walls. Something unrecognizable. She wasn’t the woman who wore tailored skirts and typed out legal documents. That Ava was long gone. Swallowed by the collar that never left her neck now. Fucked out of existence by hands and mouths and bodies that had reshaped her.Tonight, she was told to report to the Crimson Room.She opened the tall black doors without hesitation.Inside, the chamber was silent. Empty. One spotlight bathed the center of the room in pale red glow. A single high-backed chair waited, its black leather gleaming,