All Chapters of Raw Pleasures: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

THIRD PERSON POVThe note was waiting for her when she woke, resting on the pillow where Alexander’s head had been. His scent lingered, sharp and intoxicating, the paper folded with crisp precision.Come bare. Come naked. The Black Chamber awaits.Selene’s stomach fluttered. Her pulse skipped. She rose from the sheets, still sore from the denial he’d left her in the night before. Every step carried the throb of need. She obeyed the command—heels only, diamonds glittering at her throat, her body otherwise untouched, unadorned.The iron doors opened with a groan, and the chamber welcomed her with low candlelight and silence.Alexander was already there, seated in his massive leather chair like a king. He rose the moment her heels clicked against the stone. His eyes drank her in, the sharp line of her breasts, the sway of her hips, the gleam of her skin.He came to her without a word, a

(Clara’s POV)“You can,” the leader cut me off, his hand finally sliding lower, between my thighs. His fingers brushed the slick mess there, and he smirked. “And you will.”Two mouths still feasting on my nipples. His fingers sliding into my soaked folds. His thumb circling my clit.The combination was unbearable. I bucked against his hand, helpless, a raw cry ripping out of my throat.“That’s it,” he murmured, eyes fixed on me. “Cum for us, Clara. Let your husband watch what a real woman looks like when she’s fucked with care.”My body betrayed me. The orgasm tore through me, violent, humiliating, unstoppable. My back arched, my tits pushing deeper into the men’s mouths as they sucked harder, milking my orgasm with their lips. My pussy gushed against the leader’s fingers, soaking his hand, soaking the table beneath me.I screamed, my voice cracking, shame flooding me even as the pleasure consumed me.When it finally ebbed, I collapsed back against the table, chest heaving, nipples th

HENRY'S POVThe women wrung me dry.One rode my cock mercilessly, her hips grinding down until my thighs shook.Another ground her pussy on my face, smothering me with her slick heat, her cries muffling against my tongue as I lapped her up like a starving man.Hands tugged at me, nails raked down my chest, teeth bit into my nipples until they were swollen, tender, throbbing with each breath.Tongues battled for every drop, every twitch, every ounce of me, as though I were not flesh, but nectar to be drained.I lost count of how many times they took me.I lost count of how many times I begged—for release, for mercy, for more.Every time I thought I was spent, another mouth, another hand, another body pulled me back from the brink and wrung me out again.By the end, my cock was swollen, flushed pink, trembling with overuse, every nerve ending screaming raw pleasure and pain. My body was wrecked, emptied, conquered, their masterpiece of lust.Mistress never joined in. She stood back, arm

HER POVIts Wednesday, Amila strolled into the office late again, sunglasses on, hair a little too glossy not to be freshly fucked, lips swollen in a way no lipstick could fake. She dropped her bag with a thud, peeled off her shades, and caught me staring.“You’re dying to ask,” she teased, sinking into her chair.I rolled my eyes, but my voice betrayed me. “Fine. Spill.”Her grin stretched wide. “Girl…” She dragged the word like a cigarette pull, leaning forward, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves couldn’t be trusted. “Last night? That man devoured me.”She leaned back, painted nails twirling a pen, eyes glazing over as she replayed it out loud. “He picked me up like I was made of nothing but air. Pinned me against his car before we even left the parking lot. Fingers already inside me, tongue down my throat, dick so hard I could feel it through his pants. I swear my panties were useless—they didn’t survive past the elevator ride.”Heat spread through my body just watching

HER POV,Everywhere, The Velvet Room pulsed with life. On a raised platform, a couple moved against each other as though they were extensions of the music—hips rolling, hands clutching, teeth grazing shoulders slick with sweat. Behind them, another pair lounged on cushions, lips locked in a kiss that was half-fight, half-surrender, their bodies coiled together in an endless knot.The lights shifted—violet, crimson, gold—and each color struck me differently. Violet made my skin tingle, crimson throbbed low in my belly, and gold seemed to set every drop of sweat in the room on fire. I blinked hard, but the colors bled into everything until Amila herself was glowing in shades I couldn’t name.She pulled me past the curtains, deeper, deeper still. Each step was a surrender. The further we went, the more the outside world dissolved—no clocks, no windows, no names, only heat and sound and the quicksilver rush of the pill making everything unbearably sharp.I felt it in my tongue—dry, aching