ABIGAIL.Six months into the contract, and my life had transformed.My art show was the talk of the city. Tate was completely discredited, facing lawsuits and professional ruin. I had money, success, validation—everything I’d wanted.And I was falling for a demon.Oberin came to me nearly every day now, sometimes multiple times.In my bed, in my studio, once memorably in an elevator between floors. He took me hard and soft, rough and tender, always demanding but increasingly careful. And afterward, he stayed.We talked about art, about his realm, about nothing and everything.I was in trouble.Tonight, he appeared while I was painting, materializing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.“That’s beautiful,” Oberin murmured, his chin resting on my shoulder. “You captured the light perfectly.”“Thanks.” I leaned back against him, comfortable in a way that should have scared me. “What brings you by? It’s only been four hours since this morning.”“I missed you.” The admission wa
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-12-21 Baca selengkapnya