Her Price, His Obsession (Erotic Billionaire/Dark Romance)
🔞Explicit Content🔞
"Suck my c^ck, Rosabella. That's all you're good at. A hopeless orphan can only dream of luxury. Keep your filthy mouth out of my affair...use it only to make me cum."
******
Bella Hale has known suffering her entire life. Orphaned at sixteen, she survives on scraps and desperation. She does whatever it takes not to starve with only little dignity intact.
She envies the rich-people who seem immune to hardship and pain. Yet she promised herself that if she ever got her hands on one of them, she would never let go. She was done suffering.
Lucian Rodriguez is everything she should despise.
A cold, selfish, ruthless billionaire with little conscience and no mercy...
a man who knows how to smile for the world while keeping his darkness well hidden.
Their worlds collide when Lucian's four-month-old daughter goes missing... and Bella finds her.
Lucian offers no gratitude...and Bella refuses to let the opportunity slip. She demands compensation. Not just money, but security. A lifetime guarantee that she will never be poor again. In return, she will do whatever he wants. Her body. Her life. He can have it all.
Bella is taken into his world-strictly as a deal.
What she doesn't realize is that when you make a deal with the devil, you should never expect it to be fair.
And she will learn too late that being poor was far better than belonging to Lucian Rodriguez.
A deal turns into obsession.
Survival into desire.
Desire into Hate.
Hate into Love.
That love and commitment becomes the biggest and worst mistake.
Will Bella's desperate deal destroy her?
Or Will she become Lucian's destruction?
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Chapter 7
Bella hesitated. She was a pro at sucking dicks but not in the living room.
"Let's go up to your room," she suggested.
Lucian stepped closer, reaching for her. His hand closed around her throat, firm and rough, drawing a soft moan from her lips.
"This is my house," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Every corner belongs to me. If I want to fuck your pussy right here, I will. I said kneel...and don't you dare object."
A shiver ran through her at his dominance.
Bella's eyes darted around, checking for Miss Margaret. Then, slowly, she sank to her knees.
Lucian unbuckled his belt. His cock sprang free. It was thick, long, heavily veined, as tanned as the rest of him. It looked like it belonged to a stallion.
Bella's mouth watered. She'd serviced plenty of cocks in her time, but never like this-never with this raw, aching hunger. None had ever made her feel true pleasure until now.
Lucian gazed down at her, his hard cock slapping against her cheek, then rubbing slowly along her chin in deliberate, teasing strokes.
"You've never seen length like this before, have you?" he taunted, voice thick with arrogance. "None of those other guys ever gave it to you this good, did they, you dirty little cock-sucker?"
To her own surprise, the words didn't offend her, they ignited her. Heat pooled low in her belly, her thighs pressing together as the arousal heightened.
"Come on," he urged, gripping the base of his shaft. "Show me what that pretty mouth can really do."
Bella wrapped her soft hands around his impressive length, stroking up and down with slow, reverent pumps. She leaned in, tongue darting out to lick the bead of precum glistening at the tip, savoring the salty taste. Then she parted her lips and took him into her warm mouth.
Her hands settled on his hips for leverage as she swallowed him whole in one smooth glide, throat relaxing around his thickness. She pulled back with a gasp, only to drive forward again...deeper, faster...bobbing her head with a hungry rhythm.
"Hmm, that's it," Lucian moaned, fingers threading into her hair. "Take every inch."
"You suck so good," he rasped, hips rocking slightly to meet her.
Bella took him to the hilt once more, slurping greedily, worshipping his cock like it was the only thing that mattered in her world. Because right now, it was.
Lucian's breath grew ragged as he watched her. "Strip," he commanded, voice rough with need. "I want to see those perfect tits bounce while you take this huge dick... and then I'm going to paint them with my cum."
Bella kept her eyes locked on his, a defiant glare burning through the tears welling at the corners as she took him deep, throat fluttering around his length with every thrust of her head.
"Don't look at me like that," Lucian murmured in anger. "I didn't force you, did I? And you're getting slow."
His hands moved to the hem of her crop top and yanked it upward in one rough motion, exposing her bare breasts to the cool air.
"No bra?" he asked, one brow arching.
He pulled out his dick so she could speak.
"It doesn't fit anymore," she managed between breaths, lips glossy and swollen. "I've been squeezing into the old one... and since I wasn't going anywhere today, I just... didn't bother."
He let out a hungry grunt, like her confession had poured gasoline on the fire already raging in him. His cock twitched hard against her cheek, demanding more.
Without warning, his fingers tangled tight in her hair, gripping her head in place. Then he drove forward in a brutal manner , fucking her mouth with a punishing rhythm that stole her breath and made her throat burn.
Bella gagged, eyes watering, but she didn't pull away. She took every savage thrust, hands braced on his thighs, nails digging in as she fought to keep up with him.
"Hmm, Bella," he groaned, hips snapping forward. "This mouth is fucking perfect. I bet that pussy of yours would taste twice as good... but we're saving the best for last, aren't we?"
Bella's fingers dug into his thigh, tapping urgently, signalling that she could barely breathe, tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. But Lucian didn't stop. He drove into her mouth with the same merciless rhythm, chasing the edge, until his entire body tensed.
With a growl, he yanked free at the last second. Thick ropes of hot cum erupted across her tits, painting her skin in heavy, glistening streaks. Still spasming, he slapped his slick, throbbing cock against her breasts, smearing his release over her nipples and watching it drip down her curves.
"Uhh, fuck Bella," he groaned, as he milked the last drops onto her body.
Lucian buckled his trousers slowly, tucking himself away before stepping back from her. Without a backward glance, he turned and headed toward the stairs.
Bella rose slowly to her feet, the cooling slickness on her chest a sticky reminder of what she'd just done. Worth it, she thought...her trade for the phone she desperately wanted.
"Will I be getting the phone today?" she asked, voice steady but with a hint of insistence. "And I have something else to tell you."
Lucian paused mid-step and looked back at her, his expression was calm but clearly held some irritation.
"Speak now. I don't have all day for women's issues."
"Your daughter's formula is almost finished," she said, meeting his gaze. "I'll need money to buy more."
He tilted his head slightly, waiting. "Is that all?"
"No, I'll tell you the rest tonight...after you've bought me the phone."
"I have a conference tonight," Lucian said coldly "After it's over, you can come to me with whatever you need to say, and bring the child with you. But no matter what, do not speak out of turn. Act accordingly."
"The child?" Bella snapped before she could stop herself. "Is that what you call your daughter? You didn't even bother naming her. What kind of father does that make you? I had to name her Zara for you."
Lucian's hands clenched at his sides.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he lashed out. "speaking to me in that bitchy tone? I give you a little privilege and you forget your place. I don't listen to the words of women...especially not a penniless one like you. Don't ever question me again."
His tone dropped, quiet but threatening.
"The girl is in your care. Call her whatever you want. You're here because of a deal, and if you cross me again, I won't just throw you out...I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars."
Bella's heart faltered, a cold wave of fear crashing over her. Her mind spun: What had she truly gotten herself into? Was she really going to let a man speak to her this way? But then the memories flooded back...poverty, desperation, the terror of a prison cell. She couldn't risk it.
She lowered her head.
"I... I'm sorry," she whispered. "It won't happen again."
Even as the words left her mouth, she knew how hard it would be to keep them true. Her tongue had always been her downfall...but for her future, for her life, she would try.
"Get dressed," Lucian said curtly. "I'll take you to buy a phone and formula. And remember what I said about the conference."
She nodded, shame and bitterness twisting in her chest. All of this, every insult...every threat, because she needed money.
Without another word, she turned and hurried upstairs.
Inside her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, her knees weak. After a moment, she went to the bathroom and stepped under the shower. Hot water poured over her skin, washing away the remnants of the day, but not the thoughts crowding her mind.
What had she walked into?
How trapped was she already?
And was there any way out that wouldn't cost her everything?
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8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.
7.2
"Still playing dirty, Huntress?" he taunted, pinning me with those piercing grey-blue eyes.
"Still hiding behind your daddy's money, Reaper?" I shot back, my blood boiling.
Lanaya Roux and Maverick Hayden are college hockey royalty-and bitter rivals. As the captains of competing university teams, their hatred on the ice is matched only by the legendary feud between their billionaire families' empires.
But when their ruthless fathers force them into a fake engagement to secure an $18 billion corporate merger, Lanaya and Maverick are thrown into the ultimate game of survival.
The rules are simple: Live together in the same penthouse. Smile for the cameras. Pretend to be madly in love for six months.
It was supposed to be strictly business. But behind closed doors, the venom they spit at each other quickly morphs into a scorching, undeniable addiction. Maverick is an arrogant, aggressively protective alpha who refuses to let her go, and Lanaya is the fiercely independent captain who refuses to submit.
Beneath their explosive chemistry lies a devastating secret: a shared tragedy from eight years ago that claimed the life of Lanaya's brother and shattered their innocent childhood bond.
With the national hockey championship on the line, scandalous secrets surfacing, and unseen enemies sabotaging their every move, the line between love and hate has never been so dangerous.
What happens when the fake engagement to your worst enemy becomes the only real thing in your life?
7.2
I was securing the diamond clasp of my necklace when the security monitor blinked to life, revealing my husband burying his face between his assistant's thighs.
Just an hour later, Dante Moretti stood by my side at the Gala, playing the part of the devoted Capo, while his mistress smirked at me from across the room in a dress that screamed for attention.
I wanted to leave. I had packed my bags, ready to disappear.
But then the doctor told me the news: I was six weeks pregnant with the Vitiello-Moretti heir.
I thought the baby might save us. I thought it would stop the madness.
I was wrong.
When his mistress accused me of betrayal to cover her own tracks, Dante didn't listen to his wife. He listened to the woman warming his bed.
In a blind rage, the man who swore to protect me struck me down.
I felt the sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen before I even hit the stone floor.
As blood stained my pristine white dress, I realized he hadn't just broken his vows.
He had killed our unborn son.
So, when the opportunity came to detonate the gas line and fake my own death, I didn't hesitate.
I let the world believe Seraphina Moretti died in that explosion.
Ten years later, I returned to a city that thought I was a ghost.
I dismantled his supply lines, froze his assets, and watched his empire crumble piece by piece.
And when he was finally on his knees in the rain, broken and destitute, I stepped out of the shadows.
I didn't come back for his money.
I came back to hand him the ultrasound photo of the child he murdered.
"Hello, Dante."
9.8
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon.
9.3
Elliana sat on the cold marble floor, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Overjoyed, she went to her husband Garrett’s study to surprise him.
But the room was empty. On his iPad, she accidentally opened a muted security video from the night before. As a graphic novelist trained in facial anatomy, she easily read Garrett’s lips as he spoke to their housekeeper.
"Increase the hallucinogens and the birth control. Let her become a complete lunatic."
The truth shattered her reality. Her three years of inexplicable exhaustion and mental collapses were orchestrated to keep her away from her ex-fiancé, who was now married to Garrett’s sister, Cristina. The nightmare worsened during a horrific highway crash. As their SUV flipped and caught fire, Garrett ruthlessly abandoned a pregnant Elliana in the crushed backseat. He dragged Cristina to safety, leaving Elliana to burn. She survived, but her right hand—her drawing hand—was permanently destroyed.
Lying in the hospital with her career ruined and her intellectual property stolen by the husband who forged her signature while she was drugged, a freezing void of hatred consumed her. She was nothing but a sedated decoy to hide Garrett's twisted, incestuous obsession with his own sister.
When Garrett knelt by her hospital bed with fake tears, Elliana didn't scream or expose him. Instead, she forced a pathetic, dependent smile, playing the perfect broken wife. She was going back to his penthouse to steal his encrypted files, ready to feed him to Manhattan's most cutthroat divorce lawyer and watch his empire burn.
8.9
Five years ago, Arabella Sterling vanished without a trace, disgraced, heartbroken, and branded her billionaire benefactor's dirty secret.
What the world never knew was that she'd also been his wife.
Or that the man she loved-and the son she gave everything for-chose another woman over her.
Now, she's back as The Reformer, a world-renowned business strategist celebrated for resurrecting dying empires.
Her newest client? The Sterling Group.
Her ex-husband's empire.
Adrian Sterling has spent years trying to atone for the lies that destroyed them both.
But when Arabella walks into his boardroom, colder, sharper, untouchable...he realizes redemption may come at a cost he can't pay.
Because this time, she's not here to save him.
She's here to ruin him.