Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 111 - Chapitre 120

The class was dead quiet when I packed up my bag. Everyone else had already gone home hours ago. But I hadn’t left—because of him. Because of the way he walked out earlier, cocky as hell, leaving me dripping and unfinished, telling me to come to his place if I wanted more. . .I hated him for that. Hated how he could just snap his fingers and I’d come crawling. But my body was already betraying me wet, throbbing, desperate for the release he had denied me.So I found myself standing outside his apartment door. My heart was pounding, my thighs pressed tight, my body screaming at me to knock.I hesitated only a second before my fist hit the door.It opened almost instantly. Kevin leaned against the frame, shirtless this time, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a wicked smirk plastered across his face.“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes trailing over me like I was already stripped bare. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”“Of course I showed,” I snapped, trying to sound in control even tho

Kevin finally pulled his fingers out, glistening with my wetness. He held them up in front of my face, smirking as if he was showing off a trophy.“Open.”I obeyed instantly, tongue flicking out to taste myself off his fingers. His eyes darkened, jaw tight with the way I sucked them clean, moaning like it was candy.“Filthy little thing,” he muttered, gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I could keep you like this all night—tied up, begging, dripping, my personal toy.”The words alone had me clenching around nothing, my body desperate for him.Kevin reached for the drawer again, pulling out something thicker this time a long black dildo harnessed to a vibrating base. My eyes widened, chest heaving.“You’re going to take this while I watch,” he said flatly, no room for argument.He slid it slowly into me, stretching me wide, my moan breaking into a whimper at the fullness. The toy started vibrating inside me, and my entire body convulsed against the sheets.“Too much?” he teas

I didn’t ask for a bodyguard. I didn’t want one.But my father decided I needed “protection” after a few threats started showing up online, and suddenly this six-foot wall of muscle was shadowing me everywhere I went.His name was Damien.Tall. Broad. Sharp jaw, tattoo snaking up his neck, eyes that looked like they could burn a hole through me with one stare. He didn’t smile. He didn’t talk unless it was an order. And every time I tried to ignore him, he reminded me who was in control.Tonight was the worst.I had a gala to attend, some boring charity event where I was expected to look pretty, smile, and stay out of trouble. But trouble followed me the second Damien stepped inside the room. He stood at the edge of the hall, in a black suit that fit him far too well, his gaze locked on me like a predator watching prey.It made my skin burn. Not just with annoyance. Something else. Something I didn’t want to admit.I sipped my champagne, pretending not to notice him. Pretending not to

The car ride back was silent. My body was wrecked, thighs trembling, throat raw from taking him, but Damien’s hand never left my thigh. His grip was firm, possessive, like a reminder: you’re mine.When we pulled into his building, he didn’t even give me a chance to walk. He lifted me out, carried me into the elevator, and pressed me against the mirrored wall, kissing me hard, brutal. His tongue claimed me the way his body had demanding, unstoppable.By the time we reached his apartment, my dress was torn, my lips swollen, and my mind a blur.The second the door shut, he shoved me against it, ripping the rest of the fabric down my body. “Clothes off. Now.”My hands fumbled, but he didn’t wait. He grabbed the leather cuffs hanging by his door—like they’d been waiting for me and snapped them around my wrists, chaining me to the metal hook embedded in the wall.“Damien. . .” I gasped, my arms stretched above my head.His palm cracked against my ass, hard. “Shut up.”I whimpered, my knees

It started as a joke.I had been drinking with friends, the kind of half-drunk, half-bored night where someone suggested we try “summoning the Devil.” We lit candles, drew stupid little circles, whispered Latin we didn’t even understand. Everyone laughed when nothing happened.But I didn’t laugh.Because when I got home that night, something followed me.The air in my bedroom felt heavy, the shadows darker than usual. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, whispering the words I remembered from earlier. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe I wanted proof. Maybe I wanted something dangerous.“I’d sell my soul,” I murmured, pressing my lips close to the glass. “For something real. For someone who could ruin me.”The candle on my nightstand blew out.I froze.And then—he appeared.Not all at once. First, a shadow sliding up the wall. Then a shape, tall, broad, made of smoke and fire until it solidified into a man. A man too beautiful to be real—jet-black hair, sharp jaw, e