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 3
She woke to the scent of leather and fire.
The room was warm, dim, the ropes still loosely draped around her wrists. Someone had covered her with a blanket sometime during the night - but her body still ached from denial. From desire. From him.
He returned at dawn.
Siena sat up as the door opened, her heart kicking like a wild thing.
He stepped in wearing black slacks and a blood-red shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He didn't speak - not yet. His presence alone did the work. Her pulse quickened. Her legs instinctively drew together.
"I see you're still wet," he said coolly, eyes scanning her like an x-ray.
She looked down, ashamed at how her body betrayed her.
"You left me tied up," she said, voice trembling. "Why?" she asked.
"To test you", he replied.
"Test what?" Her eyes showing her puzzlement.
He walked forward, slow, deliberate, until he was standing before her.
"To see if you'd break," he said, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. "You didn't."
Then, in a softer tone: "I'm impressed."
"Is that what you want?" she snapped. "Obedience?"
"No," he said. "I want surrender. There's a difference."
He stepped closer, his hand sliding behind her neck, tilting her chin upward. "Do you want to know my name now?"
She nodded.
He leaned in, mouth brushing hers. "Dominic Black."
The name burned into her.
"Dominic," she whispered.
"Say it again", he requested, his stance like an animal ready to pounce.
"Dominic", she repeated.
His eyes darkened. "You sound like sin when you say it."
Then his mouth crashed into hers.
This kiss wasn't teasing. It was claiming. He lifted her effortlessly and slammed her against the padded wall, pinning her wrists above her head. She moaned into his mouth, lips parting, tongue tangling with his.
"You want me now?" he growled.
"Yes. Fuck, yes", she replied, her eyes wild.
Dominic yanked the blanket from her, baring every inch of her flushed, waiting skin. He dragged his belt slowly from the loops of his pants - the sound making her shudder.
"You remember what I said?" he asked, looping the belt around her wrists, tightening them just above her head.
"You ruin," she gasped. "You don't fuck." Repeating his words excited her more than she cared to admit. Maybe she wanted to be ruined.
"Exactly", he replied in response to her answer.
He slapped her thigh - a warning - then slipped two fingers between her legs. She was soaked.
"Oh my God," she cried.
"You're going to come when I say," he said. "Not before."
She whimpered as he withdrew his fingers and licked them, slow and deliberate.
"Sweet. Untamed", he murmured in approval.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
And then... he devoured her.
Tongue dragging through her folds, mouth unrelenting, sucking her clit with just enough pressure to make her buck, but not enough to send her over the edge. She thrashed, crying out, but the belt held her in place.
"Please," she panted. "Please let me..."
"No," he growled against her. "Not yet."
She sobbed - not from pain, but from the exquisite agony of it all.
And when he finally pushed two fingers deep inside her, curling just right, her body shattered.
"Now," he whispered. "Come for me."
She screamed - and it wasn't just pleasure. It was freedom, released only through submission.
When he rose, she collapsed into him, body trembling.
He held her close.
"You'll come to crave the denial," Dominic whispered. "Because only I will give you the permission your body begs for."
And Siena realized something terrifying.
She didn't just want more.
She wanted everything he had to give - no matter how dark it got.
*******
Dominic had told her he would have ake her to his dungeon. And that is as what he did next.
But the dungeon wasn't what Siena expected.
No chains on bloodstained walls. No torture devices or horror-movie theatrics.
It was... elegant.
The room was sunken into marble and obsidian, illuminated by flickering gold light from wall sconces. Padded benches and mirrored panels surrounded them, and in the center stood a large, four-post frame of polished black steel. Silk ropes and leather cuffs hung from hooks. A closet nearby was slightly ajar, revealing racks of riding crops, paddles, and something that looked like a whip made from strands of fine velvet.
Dominic stood behind her, watching her every breath.
"You step inside this room," he said lowly, "and you don't belong to yourself anymore. You don't even belong to me."
Siena's heart raced. "Then who do I belong to?"
He stepped close, lips brushing her ear. "To your need."
She trembled.
"Strip."
She did.
Naked, trembling, heart hammering, she stood before the frame. He walked a slow circle around her, dragging a finger up her spine. She shivered at the light contact, more intimate than a slap.
"On your knees."
She dropped to the cool stone, her nipples tightening from more than just the chill. His hand threaded into her hair, gripping-not hurting, just owning. She moaned softly.
"You're not here to please me today," Dominic said. "You're here to learn about yourself."
He released her and crossed the room. When he returned, he held two things: a narrow, black paddle and a glass plug.
Siena's lips parted.
He knelt beside her. "This isn't punishment, Siena. Not yet. It's discipline. Structure. The body learns through sensation, and the mind through surrender."
He held up the plug. "You'll wear this while I teach you."
She flushed.
"Have you ever worn one before?"
She shook her head.
"Good," he whispered. "Then today you'll understand what being truly full feels like."
He slicked it with oil and guided her gently over the padded bench, her ass lifted high, thighs parted.
Siena moaned into the cushion as he pushed it slowly inside her. The burn made her cry out - not from pain, but the intensity, the depth of it. She felt owned.
Dominic massaged her thighs, waiting for her breathing to slow. Then he spoke:
"Ten strikes. Count each. Miss one, we start again."
She nodded shakily. "Yes, Sir."
Crack.
The paddle struck her ass with a sharp sting, and her breath hitched.
"One," she gasped.
Crack.
"Two..."
Her voice shook, but with each strike, the pain melted into heat - and the heat into something more. By the fifth, she was dripping. By the eighth, she was moaning his name between numbers.
Crack.
"Nine..."
The last was hardest. His aim precise, deliberate.
Crack.
"Ten."
She sagged, gasping, pulse wild.
Dominic knelt again, brushing his lips across the red curve of her ass. "Beautiful. Brave."
He pulled the plug out slowly - and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness.
But instead of replacing it with more pain, he slid two fingers into her from behind.
Siena cried out, her body clenching desperately.
"Did you enjoy your lesson?" he asked softly.
"Yes," she sobbed. "God, yes."
He curled his fingers just right. She started to unravel.
But then... he stopped. Again.
He pulled away, her orgasm lingering on the edge like a scream caught in the throat.
She twisted toward him, pleading. "Please don't leave me like this again. I'll do anything." She was shocked that he had reduced her to this.She was begging him to take her, to make her come. She never thought in her wildest dream that it could get to this. But the truth was that he knew how to make her body nit only to respond to him but to crave him violently and come violently as well.
Dominic grabbed her chin.
"You'll come," he said. "But not like this."
He helped her up, then carried her to a velvet chaise. She straddled his lap, bare, flushed, straining to be filled. He cupped her hips and held her above him - close enough to feel, but not take.
"Now ride me," he said, voice low. "But you don't come until I do."
She nodded.
And as she slid down onto him, her moan echoed through the dungeon. His name was not Dominic, she thought in her ecstasy. His name was Sin!
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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.