Novel & Cerita Champagne And Shackles Theme

Disclaimer: This story has 18+ Sexual Theme and Violence, no one under 18 is allowed to read this. *"Are you sure you're ready for this? Are you willing to give yourself to me?" The intensity of his gaze made me want to do anything for him. His eyelids were heavy, his breath wild and thirsty for me—exactly what I had always wanted, for him to be crazy for me. "I give you all of myself, as long as you'll have me," I whispered in his ear, kissing his neck. His hand moved up my back, slowly unhooking my bra, caressing my neck with the back of his fingers. As my bra fell away, he took a moment to look at me, sighing in amazement. "You are beautiful, Julia," he murmured, kissing my neck. I tilted my head back, heart pounding as he whispered against the skin of my chest, "You are mine, Julia." He pressed his ear to my chest. "Did you hear that? That heartbeat calls my name!"* *Growing up in my childhood town, it was my dream to pursue my Music Career. Like any ordinary teenager, I had millions of dreams: To go on a world tour, perform on stage, to become famous. I couldn't have thought I was cursed decades before I was even born, and then I had to come back to my mother's hometown, thinking I might escape him, while accidentally landing in his trap. And then, I met them - two captivating men who stole my heart with their charismatic presence and mysterious allure. Now I'm torn between them in a world where I'm not allowed to fall in love. --- I'm Julia Murphy, and I'm marked by a demon, who won't stop at anything until he gets his claws on me.*

"Nina is that you. You look so beautiful" a guy said. "Have some drink" "No, she is leaving," said the harsh voice, and next thing I know champagne was all over my dress. I gasped as it stained it. Before I could react he grabbed me and dragged me to the pool area. I yanked my hand. "What the hell. You ruined my clothes" I half yelled. "What the fuck you are doing in my party looking like a slut" he yelled angrily while pinning me to the wall. Listening to his words my blood boiled. "Let me guess you came here to ruin my mood by showing your ugly face," he said letting me know his hate. "Stop giving so much importance to yourself. I'm here because of your mom. My face must be ugly but ugly souls like you are not even worth wasting my life's a single second" I said angrily pushed him but he didn't move. "I can hide my ugly soul behind this face but ugly ducklings like you carry their ugliness which can't even be hidden by beautiful dress because they stain everything around them with their ugliness," his words were hurting my soul but I won't cry. With all my power I pushed him making him fall in the pool. "Happy Birthday," I said with a smirk on my face but he didn't let me go. Things he did to me after it still send a shiver to my spine. One thing was clear on that day that I don't want to see his face again in this life. But I don't know what the hell I'm doing standing in front of him in Church wearing a wedding gown and looking at his angry victory smirk on his face with my glassy eyes.

“Shush” he cuts her off. “Raise up your skirt right now” “Master…” He cuts in again. “Raise up your skirt right now and don’t make me repeat myself” She took a deep breathe, this is not the first time he has punished her this way, It started a month ago. “Okay master” She raised up her uniform skirt and her white panties came to view, his eyes bulging out. He swallowed. “You’re beautiful, it’s like each time you raise that beautiful skirt of yours up, it’s my first. Come here, I want you to see yourself” he hold her by the hand and takes her to the mirror. “Look at yourself, you’re beautiful. Your legs are slender and you’ve got such a nice crutch” he admires her as she watches herself, her skirt still raised. He bent down and began to kiss her legs, kissing all the way up to her neck. He grabbed her ass from behind trailing kisses om her beck before one of his hand rested oh her boobs and the other went into her panties rubbing her clit and squeezing her full boobs hard. “I heard you’re a virgin too” he moaned as he nibbled her ear continuing his attack on her innocent body. “Are you done master?” She asked ready to run away and go confess her sinful thoughts and to put her body to punishment for wanting more. “Done? Oh honey, I’m just getting started with you” with that he released her boobs from the shackles of a bra and tore her shirt pressing her to the mirror, he breast on it waiting and screaming to be sucked. “What a lewd thought!” She quarrels herself. He dragged her pant up, seperating her pussy lips with it.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife, Blair, the daughter of the city's richest man, straddled my lap, her kiss deep and intoxicating as she toyed with my lower lip. The same night, we just announced our pregnancy to the world. Just then, Blair's best friend, Chloe, asked in French, her tone suggestive: "Blair, you're absolutely glowing. But tell me honestly, how does it feel to get railed by another man while carrying a baby?" Blair let out a soft laugh, a familiar sound that sent a chill down my spine. She replied, also in French: "It feels absolutely incredible, Chloe. He's like a wild wolf. Just yesterday, he had his head buried between my thighs, using his mouth to bring me to tears before taking me so deep I forgot my own name." Her fingers were still toying with my collar, but her gaze was already distant. "But remember, keep this from Kevin. If he finds out what I've been doing behind his back while pregnant, it will be a disaster." The socialite sisters gathered around them shared knowing chuckles, raising their glasses and promising to keep the secret. The warmth in my veins turned to ice. My fervent passion to welcome a new life was instantly reduced to a pathetic joke. They had all forgotten that I spent my childhood in southern France. I understood every single syllable. I forced myself to remain calm, my face fixed in the perfect smile expected of a blissful husband about to welcome his first child, but the hand holding my champagne glass was trembling. I didn't fly into a rage. I didn't smash everything in sight. Instead, I took out my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days prior for the Aegis Agency, a highly classified organization on the other side of the world, and clicked "Accept." In three days, I would vanish from Blair's world.

On our seventh year anniversary, my girlfriend, Rachel Winters, forces me to drink a glass of drugged champagne before dumping me onto the bed of an 80-year-old widow. "It's Bryon's first time attending a business meeting. He's still pure and oblivious, so he doesn't know how to satisfy an older widow's insatiable desire. "I have no choice but to ask you to seal this business deal on his behalf. Think of this as your way of helping me repay Bryon's family for raising me since young. "Don't worry, Corey. No one will know about this." After that, Rachel turns off the lights and leaves the room while ignoring my pleas for help. But the next day, the video of me and the widow going at it is spread across the Internet. My colleagues look down on me for resorting to such underhanded methods just to get promoted. They can't believe that I'm able to stomach the idea of sleeping with an 80-year-old widow. Thanks to the video, the company's reputation is greatly affected. Rachel holds a press conference immediately to address the issue. I thought she'd defend me, but I didn't expect her to change her tune. "I've already discussed this matter with the Dalton family. Corey Dalton shall take responsibility for what he's done to the widow. As for me, I will get engaged to Bryon Parson." I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. I've founded this company with Rachel and has stuck by her side through thick and thin, resulting in us rising as the new-time business moguls. But in the end, she decides to ditch me. "Corey, if you really want to stay by my side, you can remain as my side piece. In exchange, I'll help you shake that old woman off your tail." As I meet Rachel's smug gaze, I shake my head decisively. "I've already thought things through and decided that I'll be marrying the widow."

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.