All Chapters of The Coochie Diaries : Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

Diana raised a brow, biting back a smile. “Say please,” she teased, tilting her head as if inspecting her wine. The glass caught the dim restaurant light, shimmering like temptation itself. His eyes darkened instantly, a subtle shift, like thunder rumbling behind calm clouds. “Please,” he said slowly, each syllable dipped in heat. “Baby Diana.” The nickname made her stomach twist, too sweet, too dangerous. It rolled off his tongue like a secret meant only for the space between them. She swallowed the heat rising in her throat and gave the smallest nod, her lashes lowered just enough to be coy. Then she slipped out of her chair with practiced grace, her movements fluid, like silk slipping off skin. The tablecloth offered enough cover, and the ambient murmur of the dining room cloaked the soft rustle of motion as she knelt beneath the table. The thick fabric brushed the back of her neck as it fell into place behind her, sealing her in a private world beneath the glittering formalit

Cecilia entered the mansion. He was already waiting in the sitting room, standing perfectly still, as if he’d been there for hours. He wore a black vest, a crisp button-up shirt, and tailored slacks. The sleeves were rolled to his forearms, exposing veins and muscle just beneath the surface, decorative, deliberate. His jaw was set, his posture perfect. She paused. He didn’t look up. How lovely, she thought. He was already in character. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. Cecilia stepped closer, slow and deliberate, letting her heels echo across the marble. Then she let the fur coat slide off her shoulders. He caught it without fumbling. Good. She circled him once, close enough to graze his sleeve with her fingers. His posture was flawless, but she saw it in his jaw, the tension, the held breath, the anticipation. And she wondered, not for the first time, what makes a man like him bend? Was it boredom? Guilt? A fantasy of being powerless, of being spoken to like he was

Chloe shut the book with a sharp snap, her mouth slightly open and her pulse racing. For a second, she just sat there on the couch, fanning herself with the edge of the page. “Oh my God, that was so hot. Like… are you kidding me? Cecilia, girl, what did I just read?” Her laughter bubbled out, half from shock and half from admiration. She shook her head, setting the book aside, still feeling the ghost of heat on her cheeks. “You really said domme energy only! I love it. That man didn’t even know what hit him. And the way she said, ‘You will be punished for this… I felt that.” She snapped her fingers. “Clock it, girl. Show that man who’s the boss. That’s how you do it! The control, the confidence, the sheer disrespect for his self-control… ugh, chef’s kiss.” She started laughing again, slapping the table lightly. “Poor man didn’t even stand a chance. He was crying and begging, and she was like, ‘Not today, baby.’ I love this for her. Power. Absolute power.” Then, softening, sh