The Possessed Dostoevsky

Born into an extremely influential family in the Far West of the United States, Janis Walter, of course had every right to throw her weight around in every way she could. She possessed characteristics most people believed was supposed to be for the male gender, and unfit for a feminine goddess like her. But you know what? They were wrong. Janis considered them all wrong and they dared not challenge her. On the opposite side was Jax Storms. Not wealthy, not poor...Just in between. Sure, like every western man, he was masculine, but what happens when he comes in contact with Janis who was overbearingly domineering? And in the most unlucky way too. They had a one night stand! ~. .~ Janis gasped in shock when she saw Jax, after haven not seen him since that night. Memories from that night immediately hit her and her cheeks flushed red immediately. He didn't look like he did the last time she had seen him; he looked very different, and more sophisticated. To her surprise, he turned out to be the CEO of the corporation that was closely in competition with hers. "Hello." Janis spoke and his eyes narrowed immediately, before giving her a fake smile that didn't even reach his eyes. "How are..." "I didn't come here for a reunion." Jax cut her off. He didn't like how she smiled at him, he believed it was fake and she was just like her younger sister, who looked down on people who had no status attached to their name. "Then what did you come here for?" She asked, unable to believe that the CEO standing in front of her had been the Uber guy who got her pregnant. "I want custody of my child." He deadpanned and the smile drained from her face.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

“Kiss me.” The words tumbled out and Lex stepped back instantly. He turned away from her and Isis felt her pride being butchered. “Isis, I-” His voice travelled through the room. It was laced with uncertainty. His back was still to her. "I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I-uh. Good bye, Mr. Greyson.” Isis replied as she slid off the desk. She needed to leave, before her embarrassment killed her. Isis grabbed her bag and stalked off towards the door. A grip like iron encased her shoulder and she was spun around to face Mr. Greyson, he pushed her against the door and dropped her bag onto the floor. He pinned her body with his, a hand around her waist bringing her body against his and his other hand cupping her face. He ran his thumb along her lower lips and took satisfaction in her shuddering. He drew her hands up and anchored them above her head, pinning them to the door. His mouth slowly covered hers and moved teasingly. Isis gasped at the skillful movement of his lips against hers. He possessed her fully, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted her, devoured her and nothing was sweeter for Lex. He fought to control his natural instincts firing to life and focused on giving her this but he was certain he would gain the most pain from it. He knew he would never forget this kiss, never meet its equal. He pulled away from her, their breath labored. He rested his forehead against hers and committed the moment to memory. He leaned off her, let her hands drop to her sides, he handed Isis her bag. "Good bye, Ms. Davenport.” He replied with some pain as he turned the door knob and allowed her to leave.