All Chapters of Désiré Me 2: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

DIANEAnger simmered inside me all night, a serpent of live embers coiled beneath my ribs. It devoured my sleep, turned the sheets into restraints, and transformed the darkness of my room into an obsessive stage where the same scene replayed again and again—his retreat, the sharp slam of the door, the echo of my own stunned silence. My body, still vibrating from his aborted departure, burned with frustration. I only found rest in the early hours of the morning, a thin, spiteful sleep haunted by dark eyes I forced to look at me.When I woke, the fury had settled. It was no longer hot. It was cold now. Sharpened. Determined. A blade of ice I held firmly inside myself.Under the spray of the shower, I washed him off my skin. The water carried away the ghostly memory of his hands, the scent of his skin lingering on mine. But it didn’t touch the decision now carved into the core of my being. He opened that door. He made his choice. Now I will make mine.I dress with deliberate care. A shor

DIANEAnger is a silent engine. It inhabits me, drives me. These past few days, I've orchestrated every smile, every burst of laughter like ammunition. I send them, one after another, toward the Liam fortress. And I feel him cracking. In the rigidity of his back when I pass by, in the too-hard gleam of his gaze. He's raw. An open wound that I cheerfully greet every morning.This afternoon, Clara is sprawled on my sofa. She sips her smoothie, looking bored."Your bodyguard there... Liam. There's something... prehistoric about him. Dangerously calm. You'd think he thinks in growls."A slow smile stretches my lips. Prehistoric. Perhaps. But even cavemen understand the language of exclusion.The plan forms, crystalline, cruel. A little get-together. Clara, of course. And two perfectly chosen admirers: Théo, handsome and stupid, and Gabriel, shy to the point of pain. Men from my world. Men he'll be able to see, but never touch.I don't mention it to my father. Just a study evening between

DIANEVictory tastes like cold ash. The days following the party are flatly calm, sinister. Liam has returned to a statue-like state. More professional than ever. More distant than the North Pole. My performance has frozen him, apparently. Extinguished him. The fire I thought I saw in his eyes was merely a reflection of my own madness.A dull frustration gnaws at me. I wanted to punish him, to torture him. I succeeded. But his total submission, this tomb-like silence, is a defeat in itself. I killed the beast. I only wanted to tame it.That evening, my father dines in town. The house is an immense ghost ship, silent, too clean. I prowl the library, unable to concentrate on a book, unable to bear the emptiness of my own suite. I feel raw, irritable. The silk of my robe scratches my skin. Even the air feels too heavy.I decide to go to the indoor pool. Perhaps the icy water will soothe this fire that has nowhere to go. The hallway leading there is long, dimly lit by wall sconces. My ste

LIAM"Are you scared?"I ask, while sliding the straps of her dress down her arms."A little."She admits, her voice barely audible."Good girl."The dress falls to her feet in a silky rustle, revealing her almost naked body, clad only in a black thong and matching lace bra."You're gorgeous."My fingers follow the curves of her shoulders, descend along her arms, before settling on her breasts, cupping them in my palms. Her nipples harden beneath the lace, and she stifles a moan."Liam... I... I've never...""I know."My lips find hers again, more softly this time, while my hands work to undo her bra."And I'm proud to be your first."The fabric slips away, releasing her full breasts, their pink, hard tips begging for my attention. I take one nipple between my lips, suckle it gently before nibbling, just enough to draw a stifled cry from her."Oh, fuck..."Her hands get lost in my hair, hold me against her.I continue my descent, drag my mouth along her stomach, kneel before her. My f

LiamThe nightlight casts a trembling golden glow on the walls, like a slow breath. It dances along the curve of Mona’s hips, the hollow of her arched back, the beads of sweat sliding between her shoulder blades. I’m there, kneeling between her spread thighs, my fingers already buried in her damp heat, and I feel her body tighten like a drawn bow beneath my palm. She moans , a rough sound that cracks in her throat , and her fingers dig into the rumpled sheets, twisting them into clenched fists.“Fuck, Liam…” she murmurs, her voice thick, almost a growl. “You’re looking at me again like you’re about to devour me whole.”I laugh softly, my lips brushing the inside of her thigh, where the skin is so thin I can see her pulse beating beneath my tongue. My warm breath makes her shiver. She’s already soaked, her pussy pulsing against my fingers, hungry, and when I slide two of them inside her, she lifts suddenly, the muscles in her legs tightening.“You’re a real slut,” I growl as I push my