Todos los capítulos de Bride For The Blind Don: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Amber.Zeden was supposed to act like he always had, the same cold, ruthless monster who barely saw me as human.He should have snapped at me to get out of the car, disgust dripping from every word, his usual indifference sharp enough to cut.That was his core.That was who he was.But right now my heart slammed against my ribs in wild, uneven waves, flooding me with something dangerously close to hope as he scooped me into his arms the second the car door opened.It felt like possession had taken him, like he’d forgotten how to behave, forgotten the rules he’d written himself.One moment we were pulling up to the mansion, the next his arms were under my knees and back, lifting me against his chest like I weighed nothing.What the hell was he thinking?Shock and shame burned through my lungs, thick and suffocating.He knew what this looked like.He knew his mother was inside.He knew Misha was inside.He knew the maids would whisper this for weeks, the gossip spreading like poison

Amber.“Was that a question or an accusation?” Zeden asked, breaking the brittle silence that had stretched for barely three seconds.He didn’t turn back to Delilah. His eyes stayed locked on mine, those dead green depths that always felt like they could peel skin from bone.The stare didn’t waver.It burned. Slow. Deliberate. Like he was already inside me, already stripping me bare without laying a finger on me.My pulse hammered in my throat.Heat crawled under my skin, low and insistent, even though every rational part of me screamed to run.Delilah opened her mouth to answer, but Julie cut in first, sharp, artificial laugh meant to sweep the moment clean.“Delilah, how could you even say that?” Julie said, stepping closer to the girl, tone syrupy with false warmth. “Zeden would never love anyone. I’m sure that part about not loving himself was just… exaggeration. I know how he is. Have you seen him with his daughter? Their relationship is chaos. It’s not that he doesn’t love he

Amber.“How long have you been standing there, Elena?” I demanded, jerking upright so violently the room tilted and spun before my eyes. “Did you hear me say anything?” The questions crashed into each other, frantic and razor-edged.It wasn’t fear, not quite. It was worse. It was the raw humiliation of being caught like this: obsessed, drowning in filthy thoughts of Zeden fucking me, moaning his name like a banshee, like a woman at worship while my fingers worked greedily between my thighs. I used to swear I despised being used. Used to pride myself on being stronger than that. But Elena had just watched me unravel in a dream about him. Dripped to stupor. Cum all over, and soaked the sheets. She had heard every broken sound.And deep down, I knew she had seen the truth I kept strangling with denial: I liked it.I liked being fucked.I liked being used.I liked being completely ruined, body, mind, and soul, by Zeden.“You mean when you were busy fucking yourself with your finge

Amber.The high gates of the warehouse loomed in front of me, solid iron and twice my height.I knew my small hands had no chance of pushing them open on their own.I set the tray down on the ground first, careful not to spill the wine, then braced both palms against the cold metal and shoved with everything I had.The gates groaned and gave way just enough for me to slip through.Inside, it was dark and quiet at first.The air smelled of concrete dust, motor oil, and something sharp and chemical I couldn’t place.My footsteps echoed too loudly.I should have turned around right then.Picked up the tray, walked back to the kitchen, and told Daya Zeden wasn’t in his room when she asked later.But curiosity, the stupid, dangerous part of me that never learned, kept me moving forward.Voices drifted from deeper inside.“If you count them and they aren’t complete, I’ll have your head, Rukov,” Zeden was saying. His tone carried that familiar edge, quiet, controlled, lethal. “You were su

Amber.I bobbed slowly, letting saliva pool and drip down his shaft. My free hand braced on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under my palm.I hollowed my cheeks harder, sucking on the upstroke, tongue pressing flat along the underside on the way down.Every time he hit the back of my throat I gagged softly, tears pricking my eyes, but I didn’t pull back.I wanted it deeper.I wanted all of him.His hand tightened in my hair, not yanking, just holding me steady so he could feed me more.“Take it all, blondie,” he rasped. “Show me how much you love being my cock-hungry little whore.”The words burned through me, shame and heat twisting together until I couldn’t tell them apart.I moaned louder around him, the vibration making his hips stutter.I sucked harder, messy, greedy, saliva dripping down my chin, coating his balls.I cupped them with my free hand, gentle, rolling them in my palm while I worked my mouth faster.Up and down. Tongue swirling. Lips tight. Hollowed cheeks pull