Semua Bab Sinful contract: Hard Limit, soft moans: Bab 11 - Bab 20

"You know what, I change my mind, I am not going"I was too afraid to see him again, what will he think of me, that I am just a lowlife prostitute stalking him for his money, besides, he may not even be there.I didn’t want to go.Mala had been begging me all afternoon. Pacing the room like an overly dramatic agent, she swore she was doing this for my own good. She’d even laid out three dresses on my bed like I was prepping for a red carpet event, not dragging my heart back to the place where I’d last lost it.“I’m not going there to chase a man,” I’d told her.She’d smiled at me like I was a child. “No. You’re going there to let him find you.”I rolled my eyes. But I still dressed.I chose the black one. The tight, glittery one with the sharp neckline that hugged my breasts like a lover and shimmered when I walked. I painted my lips a deep crimson, darkened my eyes with shadow and kohl until they looked more dangerous than sad. My blonde hair fell in waves down my shoulders. And my h

I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring at the drawer like it held a venomous snake. The envelope was still there. Untouched. Crisp. Silent. Fifty thousand dollars in cash that smelled like sex and shame and something else I couldn’t name.I hadn't told Mala I hadn’t spent a cent of it. Not on groceries. Not on rent. Not even on painkillers for the dull ache still lingering in my lower back from that night. It just sat there in the drawer, burning like a secret. A weight I wasn’t ready to lift.My laptop rested beside me, screen black. I hadn’t written in days. Weeks, maybe. I didn’t count anymore. The words had dried up, like my voice had packed a suitcase and left town the morning after I’d let Kyl touch every part of me. I’d dreamed of writing a novel that would set the world on fire. Now all I did was avoid mirrors and stare at drawers."Damn it Ivana, get a grip"Mala crashed into the room like a glitter bomb of energy and audacity. She didn’t knock, she never knocked. She was chew

I stood at the threshold of Kyl’s penthouse door, the final click of the elevator sounding like a verdict. I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door, although the door was half open. Candlelight flickered from inside, casting long shadows through the cracks. My heart throbbed, no longer just from nerves, but from an anticipation I couldn’t name.I couldn't believe I was doing this, selling myself to actualize my dream.When the door opened, he stood framed by warm light. His dark suit looked imperfect now, sleek yet undone. A white button left unfastened at the neck, his gaze was deep, dangerous, intimate. He flicked his hand toward the inside, and every star in the night paled in comparison.I walked in, hips swaying against the silk of my red dress, the floor catching the light beneath my heels. The scent of jasmine, wood, and faint bourbon drifted from the living room. Music played quietly, the hum of conversation echoing as if from another world. None of that mattered.He

I should have left the doorman’s knock, but something made me open the door when he stood there holding a stack of boxes nearly as tall as me. Each one was pristine, wrapped in velvety black paper, tied with silken ribbon. My name, Ivana Prute was written in gold on each label. I closed the door in a breath, heart racing, and carried them inside like fragile verdicts. I already knew who they were from.How my life had drastically changed from a miserable broke virgin to a billionaire mistress receiving designer gifts is what I still couldn't come to terms with.In my bedroom which was heavily cramped, humming with the soft glow of a single lamp, the boxes lay like accusations or offers. The smallest was a jewelry box, faint swirl of golden filigree and an engraved card. The next was sleek and sizable. The third was old-fashioned and thick, like a secret. My lips parted slightly; I felt dizzy.I sat cross-legged amidst them. I untied the first ribbon with shaking fingers. Inside, a nec

I always imagined writing his memoir would be professional, clean, distant, entitled. But nothing about today was distant. It felt logically wrong but my heart urged me on.By the time I arrived at his office that morning, everything already felt charged. His executive suite gleamed in the sunlight, but the privacy glass hid the glare it was only gray seen from the outside but crystal clear once you step inside. I walked past it slowly, aware I could be watched without seeing who was looking.My corner desk faced the skyline, the city crawling below while I stared at a blank screen. A custom MacBook glowed softly, mine to command—but every click echoed in the quiet. I sensed him before I heard him, the sound of tailored trousers stepping into the suite behind me.Kyl leaned against the doorframe with effortless dominance. He held two coffees in crisp white mugs, steam curling into the air between us. He always knew the right moment to appear, it made me uneasy and I squirmed.I turned