All Chapters of Raw Pleasures: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

THIRD PERSON POVAria stirred slowly, the golden morning light spilling through the tall windows of their bedroom. Her lashes fluttered open to the scent of rich espresso, warm butter, and something sweet.She turned her head—and her heart skipped. Matteo stood by the side of the bed, dressed down in a soft white shirt with sleeves rolled to his forearms, tray in hand. Steam curled from a porcelain cup, the silver lids of the dishes gleaming. His dark hair was slightly messy, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, yet he still looked devastatingly handsome.“Good morning, my queen,” he said softly, voice husky with sleeplessness.Aria sat up slowly, the sheets falling to reveal the curve of her bare shoulder. Her lips curved, though her gaze lingered on him, studying. “You’ve been up early.”“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, setting the tray down carefully. “So I decided to make you breakfast.”The silver dome lifted, revealing perfection—fluffy omelets folded with truffle and parmesan, go

THIRD PERSON POVCharlotte’s body still quivered from the orgasm Sam had given her, but her pulse was wild with something darker—control. She sat up on the padded table, grabbed Sam’s wrist, and pulled her up roughly until their lips collided.Her kiss was hungry, teeth clashing, tongue forcing its way in. Sam moaned, surprised by the sudden aggression, but Charlotte didn’t let up. She shoved Sam against the wall, pressing her own body flush against hers.“You think you can just eat me and walk away?” Charlotte growled against her lips. “Now it’s my turn.”Sam’s breath caught, pupils dilating, but she smirked. “Show me, bride.”Charlotte dropped to her knees, yanking Sam’s robe open. She spread Sam’s thighs wide and buried her face between them, sucking hard on her clit without hesitation.Sam gasped, her head hitting the wall. “Fuck, Charlotte!”Charlotte licked roughly, almost punishing, flicking her tongue fast while her nails dug into Sam’s thighs. She spit on her pussy and shoved

THIRD PERSON POVEthan had lost all sense of time. His body didn’t feel like his anymore—it was theirs, moved where they wanted, bent how they wanted, pushed until he couldn’t tell if the tears on his cheeks were from pain, pleasure, or both.Every time he thought he might be given a moment’s rest, another hand was on him. One tugged his head back by the hair, forcing his throat bare to biting lips and bruising teeth. Another gripped his ass hard, fingers digging so deep it hurt, forcing him open, spreading him wider.The couch groaned beneath the chaos of it—three men devouring one, using him from every angle. Ethan’s chest was covered in marks, his neck raw from sucking lips, his thighs trembling from being held wide apart too long.“Take it,” one snarled against his ear, voice low and commanding. “Don’t fight it. Take everything we give you.”His voice broke, a hoarse moan spilling out, but his body kept moving, kept obeying. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore—just respo

THIRD PERSON POVThe sound of rain tapping softly against the tall glass windows filled the quiet of the Hart Mansion. It was the kind of silence that carried weight, stretching through the vast living room lined with polished marble and expensive art. Everything about the house was perfect, just like its owner — cold, composed, and untouchable.Sebastian Hart sat at his desk in the study, his attention fixed on the papers in front of him, though his mind was far from the numbers. The rain outside matched the heaviness inside him. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his tie lay discarded on the edge of the desk. The dim lighting made his features sharper, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead.For a man who ruled an empire, Sebastian looked tired. The kind of tired that didn’t come from lack of sleep, but from carrying too many secrets.The door opened quietly behind him. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Only one person in this hous

THIRD PERSON POVThe air between them had grown almost unbearable. Every breath she took was thick with smoke, his proximity, the unspoken danger lingering in the dimly lit bunker. Elara’s heart hammered in her chest, loud enough that she was certain he could hear it.Rowan’s gaze lingered on her lips, dark and unreadable, and something unspoken passed between them — a magnetic pull she had tried to resist for weeks, months, maybe longer. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, lingering just at her jawline. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it set her nerves alight, making her ache in ways she wasn’t ready to name.“Elara…” he murmured, his voice husky, low, carrying a weight that made her knees threaten to buckle.She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him they shouldn’t, that this was her best friend’s boyfriend, that they were crossing a line they could never step back from — but the words died before they left her throat.Rowan leaned closer. Slowly, de