The Devil's Bride (His Lustful Obsession)
Siena has known pain longer than she's known love.
Raised by cruel guardians who taught her to be silent, obedient, small, she never imagined a life beyond survival-until the night she is sold at a secret auction and bought by the one man no one dares touch.
Dominic Blackwell.
The Devil in a tailored suit.
A man who takes what he wants... and keeps what he claims.
Dominic doesn't believe in innocence, but Siena's shatters him.
He buys her for one night-and ends up unable to let her go.
To the world, he is untouchable.
To Siena, he is danger, desire, and the first taste of power she's ever had.
But desire has a price.
As Siena begins to rise from the ashes of her past, she catches the attention of another man, who is determined to take her away from Dominic -Lucien Ward, his rival, his shadow, the one who believes he can save Siena from the darkness consuming her life.
Freedom on one side.
Obsession on the other.
And a girl who never asked to be fought for.
When rivals clash, when secrets burn, when blood stains the floor and love becomes a weapon, Siena must choose:
Run from the Devil...
or become the only woman he has ever bowed to.
In a world built on desire, violence, and possession, Siena will discover that love isn't the light.
It's the fire.And she was born to burn in it..
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Chapter 2
The first time he saw her, she was kneeling.
Not out of fear, not in shame - but with an elegance so defiant it made his cock hard in seconds.
She was blindfolded in black silk, her lips slightly parted, dressed in nothing but a sheer white slip that clung to her like it had secrets. Her position when he first saw her was as a result of where she was at the time of which was an auction house. Bound against her will.
The auction room was a hidden enclave beneath Manhattan's elite. Everyone in this crowd wore masks - but no one was hiding. Not really. Not from what they wanted.
And tonight, he wanted her. He wanted her like he had never wanted any woman - anything infact, in his whole life.
He leaned back in his chair, whiskey in one hand, paddle in the other. All around him, the rich murmured, fingers twitching with the thrill of ownership. Of power.
But she didn't flinch. She didn't beg. She knelt like she knew the rules and had long since decided they didn't apply to her.
Her name wasn't listed. Just her number: 43.
The auctioneer's voice sliced through the tension.
"Submission trained. Untouched. No prior ownership. Five nights. No safewords."
A murmur of approval was heard from the spectators. Their eyes turned greedy.
His fingers tightened around the paddle.
He didn't want five nights. He wanted forever.
"Opening bid?" the auctioneer called.
"Ten thousand," someone shouted.
"Twenty," another echoed.
"Fifty," he said flatly. His voice cut through the air like a blade. The room fell silent.
The auctioneer looked up sharply. "Fifty thousand. Going once..."
His eyes fell on her lips - still trembling, still unkissed - and imagined how she'd taste when she moaned his name.
"Going twice..."
One man at the back raised a paddle. "Sixty."
He didn't blink. "One hundred thousand."
A collective gasp.
The auctioneer hesitated. "Sir, are you-"
"One hundred. Cash." he stood. "Now finish it."
Silence. Then, a slow, precise smile from the auctioneer.
"Sold. To Number 9. Congratulations, sir."
He moved forward as the crowd parted, part predator, part promise.
Her breath caught as he stopped in front of her. She couldn't see him - but he would swear she could feel him.
He crouched down.
She was trembling now. Just slightly.
He took her chin in his hand, tilting her face upward. She smelled like honey and danger. His voice was low, for her ears alone.
"You belong to me now, little dove."
She swallowed, the sound delicious.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She whispered, "Siena."
He smirked. "Siena. You will not speak unless I ask a question. You will not come unless I say so. And you will learn the word 'please' in a hundred different ways."
A hitch of breath. Her thighs pressed together.
He slid one hand up her inner thigh, stopping just before the slip ended. Her skin was soft, untouched.
"Stand," he commanded.
She obeyed.
Her legs were shaking as he led her away from the stage, one hand possessive on the small of her back. He felt her pulse thrumming beneath her skin.
They passed velvet curtains into his private suite, soundproofed and soaked in red light. She stepped inside, and he locked the door behind them.
"Take it off," he ordered.
She hesitated. Then, with trembling hands, pulled the slip over her head. She stood naked before him - every inch of her flawless, glowing, breathless.
He walked around her slowly.
"You don't know what I am yet, Siena," he murmured. "But you will."
He pulled a length of rope from the drawer. Silk. Black. New.
"Turn around. Hands behind your back", hr commanded.
She obeyed - and with every knot he tied, every loop that kissed her wrists and shoulders, she gasped like he was unwrapping her soul.
When he finished, she was bound, bare, and beautiful - her chest rising and falling rapidly.
He stepped close, lips against her ear. "I don't fuck. I ruin", he whispered the threat.
He pushed her gently against the padded wall and knelt behind her. His mouth tasted her thighs, nibbled the inside of her knees. Her breath turned ragged, knees already wobbling.
"Please..." she whispered before catching herself.
He smiled. "You'll learn when to beg", he promised .
He slid a blindfold back over her eyes and whispered, "Tonight, you're going to scream into my mouth."
She whimpered.
And he hadn't even touched her properly yet.
********
She lay sprawled on the padded bench, wrists bound above her head, thighs trembling from the anticipation he'd been building for what felt like hours.
Every breath Siena took was shallow, desperate. Every inch of her body tingled, flushed, aching to be touched - to be taken.
But he didn't give in.
Instead, he leaned over her, dragging the edge of a feather slowly down her sternum, between her breasts, stopping just above the aching pulse of her core.
"Tell me," he murmured, lips brushing her earlobe, "what do you want?"
She gasped, arching toward him instinctively. "I want you."
"You already have me," he said darkly. "But you want something more. Say it."
"I want to come," she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of her need.
He smiled against her skin. "Then suffer for it."
His fingers didn't slip between her legs. Instead, they ghosted around the edges of her thighs, drawing patterns on her skin as though she were a canvas made for torment. His mouth followed-hot, open kisses on the inside of her knee, the curve of her hip. But he never touched the place she ached most.
Siena writhed, moaning, frustrated beyond sanity.
"You're dripping," he observed casually, watching her body respond. "And yet you've done nothing to earn it."
She turned her head, teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Please," she whispered.
He reached down and grazed her inner thigh with just one knuckle - one single stroke - and her body spasmed.
"That's all it takes?" he said with a low chuckle. "You're that desperate?"
She nodded, panting. "Yes. God, yes."
But instead of giving her what she craved, he stood.
Just like that.
The heat vanished.
The tension snapped.
Siena opened her eyes - half-lidded and heavy with desire - only to see him buttoning his shirt.
"Where are you going?" she breathed, confused. "You're... you're leaving me like this?"
"I'm teaching you," he said coldly. "You do not come because you want to. You come because I allow it. You exist for my pleasure - and I haven't decided if you've earned any."
Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. She was shaking with arousal, with humiliation, with helpless lust.
"You're cruel," she whispered.
He leaned in again, brushing his mouth lightly against hers.
"No, Siena," he said. "I'm patient. And that's something you'll learn - tonight was never about pleasure."
He reached behind her head, untying the silk blindfold.
"It was about control."
Then he kissed her once - hard, hungry - before stepping out and locking the door behind him.
And she was left in the dark.
Panting. Wet. Unsatisfied.
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9.4
I thought the Burch family gave me a loving home when they took me out of the orphanage.
But when the global deep freeze apocalypse hit, my adoptive parents mercilessly kicked me out of the bunker to freeze to death.
As I lay dying in the snow, covered in horrific purple frostbite, my adoptive sister Kendal walked past me in a pristine designer jacket.
Around her neck was my only childhood possession—an antique gold necklace my adoptive mother had ripped off my neck to give to her.
Kendal gloated, bragging that my pendant held a magical space with infinite supplies and fresh food while the rest of the world starved.
I realized I had spent years emptying my life savings to fund their luxury cars and fake medical emergencies.
They had drained my bank accounts, stolen my bloodline's heirloom, and used my magical lifeline to live like royalty while leaving me to die.
I took my last ragged breath in that blinding blizzard, consumed by a toxic hatred.
Why was I so hopelessly weak? Why did I let them take everything from me?
Opening my eyes again, the painful frostbite scars were gone. My skin was warm.
I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up: November 12.
It was exactly three days before the world ended.
When my adoptive mother called, faking a tearful emergency to demand another thirty thousand dollars, I smiled coldly.
"Just tell me where to send the money, Mom."
This time, I'm taking my space back, and I'm going to drain them dry.
8.6
THE SKY IS A CAGE. THE EARTH IS A GRAVE. SHE IS THE KEY.
In a broken, post-apocalyptic world, Dr. Evelyn Harper is the last hope of the sky-borne survivors; until she is cast down to the deadly, toxic surface below.
There, she does not find death. She finds Ren, a savage, powerful Alpha werewolf who rules the mutated survivors of the Ash.
They are enemies by birth. She is human. He is a beast. She belongs to the stars. He belongs to the ruins.
But the moment they touch, a ghost heartbeat explodes between them; a raw, inescapable psychic bond that marks her as his fated Luna.
To her people, she is a tool.To him, she is a prophecy. To each other, they are a cross-star fatal attraction too dangerous to want, too powerful to resist.
Loving him means betraying her kind. Saving her people means destroying his. But the bond between them is not just forbidden; it is ancient, hungry, and impossible to break.
She came to fix the world.He will make her rule it.
8.7
I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong.
Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak.
I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess.
The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years.
I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to.
But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.
7.5
To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years.
But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms.
"Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now."
He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school.
He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge.
He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy.
He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me.
I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present.
Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty?
Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.
7.7
I've been hiding my face from the world for seven years.
He's been hiding his heart for just as long.
When Grammy-winning musician Dante Rivers offers me $150,000 to be his fake girlfriend for six months, I should say no.
I'm Veil-the anonymous digital artist with millions of fans and a face no one has ever seen. I don't do cameras. I don't do crowds. And I definitely don't do fake relationships with devastatingly private men whose studio walls are covered in my artwork.
But my father's last dream is slipping away-and this contract is the only way to save it.
The rules are simple:
No real feelings.
No crossed boundaries.
No falling for Dante Rivers.
Except nothing about him is simple.
Not the way he shields me from paparazzi like I matter.
Not the way his music sounds like secrets meant only for me.
Not the way he looks at me like he sees through every wall I've built.
What he doesn't know is that I'm already part of his life.
I'm the anonymous artist behind his album covers.
The one he's trusted with his most private thoughts.
The ghost he's been searching for without ever meeting.
And now I'm falling for him twice-
once as the girl in his guesthouse
and once as the mystery he doesn't know he's already holding.
When the truth comes out, it won't just break the contract.
It might break us.
7.0
I stood at the altar, ready to bind my soul to Holden, the man I had loved since we were pups.
But the moment his stepsister, Jaidyn, let out a shrill scream, he ripped his hand away from mine.
He abandoned me in front of the entire pack, cradling her in his arms and claiming his wolf had chosen her over me.
The humiliation didn't end there.
When I tried to leave, Holden kidnapped me.
He locked a silver collar around my neck, searing my skin and cutting off my connection to the world.
He dragged me to a filthy dungeon, ignoring my screams, and began draining my blood to "save" Jaidyn.
As my life force faded into the IV bag, I watched Jaidyn smirk behind his back, her "wounds" healing instantly.
Holden called me a monster for hurting her, blind to the truth.
To him, I was just a weak, latent wolf—a spare blood bag for his mistress.
But they made a fatal mistake.
They didn't know that the "weakness" inside me was actually a dormant power waiting to explode.
And they certainly didn't know that my rejection of Holden had already summoned a new mate.
The terrifying Lycan King, Alphons, was coming.
And when he arrives, he will burn their world to the ground.