All Chapters of Raw Pleasures: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

THIRD PERSON POVThe world had shrunk to the space of a sofa, to the weight of her on his lap, to the scent of her skin and the sound of her breath, quick and warm against his neck. "I accept," Leo had said, and in those two words, he had surrendered not just to a game, but to her.A profound shift occurred in Maya’s eyes at his acceptance. The stern, commanding officer was still there, but now her authority was channeled into a different kind of command—one of shared discovery. Her hands, which had been firm and directive, became guiding, exploring. She took his wrists again, her touch gentler now, and placed his palms flat against the stiff fabric of her uniform shirt, over the swell of her breasts. The beat of her heart was a frantic drum against his hands, betraying the calm control of her voice."Your sentence begins," she whispered, her voice husky. "Show the court your remorse."His fingers trembled as they worked the remaining buttons of her shirt. Each one gave way to reveal

THIRD PERSON POVThe leather cuffs were not just a physical restraint; they were a psychological key. Sam felt their presence with every minute shift, a constant, heavy reminder of the role they had chosen to play. The initial spike of fear had subsided, replaced by a thrumming, deep-seated excitement that resonated in their very core. The cold room, the single light, the imposing figure of the Warder—it all coalesced into a reality that was both terrifying and liberating.Liam watched the change in Sam’s eyes. The defiance was still there, but it was now a performance, a token resistance offered for the sake of their shared narrative. He saw the trust shining through, and it fueled his own performance, allowing him to sink deeper into the role without the fear of causing true distress."A lone operator?" Liam mused, his voice a low rumble. He reached out, and with a single, gloved finger, he traced the line of Sam’s jaw. The touch was electric, a spark of intimate contact in the ster

THIRD PERSON POVThe next week was a special kind of torture. Elia threw herself into her finals, but every quiet moment was filled with the memory of Noah’s stormy eyes in the dim light. He didn’t come over. Ben mentioned he was swamped with a big project at the architecture firm where he worked. Elia knew it was an excuse. He was putting distance between them, and it felt like a physical ache.Her last final was on a Friday afternoon. She walked out of the lecture hall feeling drained but free, the summer stretching before her, vast and full of possibility. Ben had texted that he was stuck at work but that the house was hers to celebrate in. She was looking forward to a long, hot bath and absolute silence.She unlocked the front door and stepped inside, dropping her backpack by the stairs. The house was quiet, but not empty. There was a sense of presence, a shift in the atmosphere. Then, she heard a movement in the living room.Her heart leapt into her throat. “Ben?” she called out,

THIRD PERSON POVThe barrel of the gun felt cold as it pressed against the back of her neck.“You move too quietly for a woman who’s supposed to be scared, chica,” a low voice rumbled behind her.Valeria “Val” Cruz didn’t flinch. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat she was sure he could hear, but her voice was steady as stone. “Maybe you just don’t know many scared women, Rico.”The pressure of the gun vanished. She turned slowly, meeting the gaze of the man who had just emerged from the shadows of the warehouse. Rico was the gatekeeper, all muscle and menace. But he wasn’t her target.A low chuckle echoed from the deeper darkness beyond. “Ease up, Rico. Can’t you see you’re intimidating our guest?”The voice was different. It was smoother, deeper, like dark honey laced with something dangerous. It wrapped around her, and despite her training, Val felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. From the shadows, her target emerged.Malik “King” Jones. He moved

THIRD PERSON POVThe world had shrunk to the space between her body and his, to the cold metal at her back and the devastating heat of his hands on her skin. Val’s mind, usually a whirlwind of strategy and suspicion, was blissfully, terrifyingly quiet. There was only sensation: the rough whisper of his breath against her neck, the solid strength of his chest under her trembling fingers, the possessive pressure of his thigh between hers.“Malik,” she breathed again, his name a plea and a confession all in one.He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The stormy intensity there had softened into something hotter, more focused. “Tell me you want this,” he commanded, his voice a low, rough vibration that seeped straight into her bones. “I need to hear you say it. No badges. No games.”It was the last door, the final boundary. On the other side was the point of no return. She looked into his eyes and saw not a criminal, but a man who had seen through every one of her walls and sti