All Chapters of Craving Forbidden Pleasures : Chapter 311 - Chapter 320

The car rolled to a stop in the private garage beneath the tower. Silence pressed in, heavier than the gunfire had been.He didn’t touch her. He didn’t drag her out, didn’t bark orders. He just sat there with his hands on the wheel, jaw tight, eyes fixed on some distant point she couldn’t see.She stared at him, her body trembling from adrenaline and cold. Outside, the city had looked endless, but now she felt as if she were floating above it, untethered. She had been so sure she wanted to escape. She had imagined herself running barefoot through the streets, slipping into anonymity.But the moment she’d stepped outside, she had felt it—the eyes. The hands. The danger.He finally spoke, voice low and rough. “You think I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”She swallowed. “Aren’t you?”“No.” His knuckles whitened on the wheel. “I might be the only thing keeping you alive.”Her throat burned. “You can’t keep saying that. You can’t just… own me because you think the world’s wo

The first night blurred into the second. She didn’t know how many hours passed between the dimming of the overhead light and its return. Time slipped strangely inside the cage, dripping by in silence, broken only by the hum of the light and the rasp of her own breath.He had given her food—bread, cheese, water. Nothing more. He slid the tray inside without a word and watched her eat as if it was part of an experiment. She hadn’t touched the first plate, fury and pride twisting inside her chest, but by the next morning her stomach clawed at her insides. She ate in silence, shame burning her throat with every swallow.That was the first crack.Now, she sat curled against the wall, knees hugged to her chest, eyes fixed on him. He was always there. That was the cruelest part. Always in the chair just outside her cage, silent, steady. Sometimes he read a book. Sometimes he simply watched. She wondered if he ever slept.Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. “Why are you doing this?”

She couldn’t breathe in the cage anymore.Every breath filled with him—his voice, his touch, the memory of his mouth bruising hers. Sleep was no refuge; in dreams she yielded completely, whimpering his name into the dark. And when she woke, she hated herself for it.It was on the seventh day that she snapped.He had gone upstairs—she’d heard the footsteps receding. For the first time, silence wrapped the room without his presence in it. The keys, she knew, were gone with him. But her hunger for air, for space beyond these four walls, drove her to madness.She yanked at the chain on her ankle until her skin bruised. She slammed the bed frame against the wall, searching for weak points. The cage rattled with each desperate movement, her pulse pounding in her ears. She wanted out—wanted to prove she wasn’t the pliant captive he thought her becoming.Her fingers found the tray he’d left, its thin metal edge bent slightly. She stared at it, her heart hammering, before snapping a piece free

The room smelled of sweat, sex, and raw surrender.She lay sprawled across the thin mattress, her wrists still tingling where he’d pinned them, her thighs slick with the evidence of what they’d done. Every breath hurt—in the best way. Her chest rose and fell as if she’d run miles, though she hadn’t moved at all. He’d moved her. He’d wrecked her.And yet she wasn’t broken. Not in the way she’d feared. She was something else now—raw, burning, alive.He lay beside her, one arm draped lazily over her stomach, his body heavy with a rare kind of stillness. For the first time since she’d met him, he didn’t seem like the unshakable predator who had stalked her mind and body for weeks. He seemed almost… human.The silence was unbearable. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, but the words tangled in her throat. She shifted slightly, enough to feel the brush of his skin against hers. Her pulse stuttered.His eyes opened. Those dark, fathomless eyes. And he looked at her—not like a captor surv

The cage was quieter after punishment.The echoes of her cries still clung to the steel, mingled with the rough sound of his growls, the sharp rhythm of flesh meeting flesh. Her body still throbbed from the strikes of his hand, her thighs ached from the brutal claiming, but it was her heart that trembled most.Because even when he had tried to punish her, even when he had thrust into her with fury meant to remind her of her place—she had seen it.The crack.The weakness.The moment when his voice broke, when his thrusts weren’t about control anymore but about need.And she wasn’t going to let him bury it. If anything, she was going to make the crack bigger. He sat now in the chair again, head bowed, hair falling loose around his face. The predator at rest. But she knew better. He wasn’t resting. He was running.From her. From himself. She felt for him. She had misunderstood him previously but now, she knew. She pulled the sheet loosely around her body, shifting until the chain rattl