Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

He let go of my wrists at once.I pushed him back, still shaking and dripping, and ran naked across the suite. The bathroom door slammed open. The sound of my own retching filled the quiet room, the sound of the vomit impossible to ignore.Mr. White followed more slowly. He stood in the doorway, still bare, watching me kneel on the cold marble floor with my hair falling forward. When the worst of it passed I turned my head and looked at him over my shoulder. My eyes were wet. My mouth was trembling.Neither of us spoke.He stepped past me, turned on the shower, and adjusted the water until it ran warm. Then he helped me up without a word, guided me under the spray, and washed me himself—gentle hands over my sore breasts, between my thighs, rinsing away the mess we had made. I stood still and let him. When he finished he wrapped a thick towel around me and led me back to the master bedroom.“Stay here,” he said quietly. “Don’t move.”He dressed in under five minutes and left.I sat on

“Keep those legs open, snowflake,” he ordered. “I’m not done playing with what’s mine.”He kept the thick head of his cock resting right against my entrance, not pushing in, just letting the heavy weight of it sit there while he slowly rolled his hips. The movement was small at first—tiny, controlled circles that dragged the swollen tip through my soaked folds over and over. Every time the ridge of the head caught on my clit, a sharp spark shot up my spine. The wet sound was soft but constant, like someone slowly stirring something thick and sticky.“Listen to that,” he murmured, eyes fixed between my legs. “Your cunt’s already making those greedy little noises and I haven’t even put it in yet.”He shifted his stance, planted one hand on the table beside my hip, and began rolling his hips harder. The head of his cock pressed more firmly, spreading me open a fraction at a time. I felt every millimeter of stretch as the blunt tip worked its way past my entrance. He didn’t slam forward.

Anna frowned, not at the beautiful and sexy reflection of herself staring back at her from the mirror. No. But at the thought she was getting married to a simple business man. He had enough money, cars and mansions, but it didn't excite her as the thought of marrying a mafia boss did."What if my husband doesn't have tattoos?" She asked her reflection from the mirror "Get him to draw one for you anna" a voice answered her, footsteps echoed into the room.She turned. Mara.She pouted, feigning a cute face as she stretched her hand towards her sister. Mara hugged her, patting her back a little."You look pretty girl, daddy is waiting, let's go out"Anna nodded behind her and together, the both walked out of the room.The walk to the reception hall was short, yet every step felt heavier than the last. Anna's fingers trembled against her fathers hand as the distant hum of gathered guests grew louder. With her bouquet at hand and a dress that hugged her slender waist and pushed her fu

I woke up to the sound of my own breathing in cool, filtered air—the kind that only exists in sealed places. My head ached in a dull, distant way, and when I tried to sit up, the room tilted for a second before settling.It was a windowless space with white walls, soft recessed lighting, and a bed that was far too comfortable for a prison, sealed by one heavy door with no handle on my side. I was still wearing the clothes I last remembered—dark jeans, a black top, and boots—with nothing torn and no blood, though my phone and watch were gone.The door made a low hydraulic sound and opened to reveal three men. The first was tall and lean with dark, short-cut hair and a carefully blank expression; he carried a tablet and barely looked at me at first, as if I were just another reading to record, though his pale eyes were assessing when they finally met mine. The second was broader and heavier in the shoulders, with a scar cutting through one eyebrow, looking at me with unfeigned hostili

I finished the coffee in two long swallows. It burned going down my throat, but the heat helped cut through the cold that had settled under my skin.Rian stood ip after I did, turning toward the door and expecting me to follow without offering a hand or stepping back to give me space. The corridor felt the same as before—white, seamless, and watched—as my bare feet made almost no sound on the sealed concrete while his heavy boots echoed.We didn’t speak on the walk, and the observation room door slid open before we even reached it. Elian was already inside with his tablet glowing and his sleeves rolled to the same precise point on his forearms, while Voss leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed, the scar through his eyebrow standing out starkly under the hard light as he tracked me from the moment I crossed the door.Elian looked up and commanded flatly, “Remove the shirt and sweatpants. Leave the bra and panties, and place the clothes on the chair.”I stopped just inside th