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 5
It began with a whisper.
Siena stood just outside the edge of the private lounge, wearing nothing but a silk robe and the collar Dominic had never removed. She wasn't leashed tonight - and that should've made her feel free.
Only it didn't.
Inside, Dominic was laughing with a woman who was stunning, poised, and wrapped in a strapless black dress that hugged her body like a second skin. She sat too close, touched his arm too often, and every time Siena blinked, that woman's lips got closer to his.
Siena's stomach twisted.
She shouldn't care. She had no claim. No right.
But rage bloomed under her skin anyway.
He hadn't told her about her. About any other women. And watching them now - watching the mysterious brunette slide a manicured hand along his thigh, whisper something that made him smirk - made Siena's body burn in the worst way.
He belonged to her, didn't he?
When Dominic finally turned his head, he found Siena watching. Their eyes locked.
His smirk vanished.
He stood. Walked to her. Slowly. Like a storm.
Siena didn't speak. She held his gaze, jaw tight, heart pounding.
He stopped inches away.
"Jealous?" he asked, voice low.
She didn't answer.
His fingers cupped her throat - not choking, just holding. Reminding her.
"I said no questions. No interference. No watching unless permitted."
Still, she stayed silent and that made it worse.
"You're disobedient," he said.
Her lips trembled. "I-" she started.
"No excuses", he retorted
He turned sharply, dragging her with him - not out of the room, but deeper into the club, down the corridor she hadn't yet seen. Red doors. Black locks.
He opened the last one and shoved it closed behind them.
Inside, the room was smaller - colder. Only one light overhead. A cross. A bench. Chains. A mirror.
"Strip," he snapped.
She obeyed.
"On the cross."
She hesitated - and that alone earned her the first slap.
Across her face.
Not brutal. Not enough to hurt - but enough to sting. Enough to make her see.
"You don't hesitate with me."
She stepped onto the Saint Andrew's Cross, arms raised above her head. He secured her wrists, her ankles, her body spread wide, vulnerable, naked and trembling.
He walked around her slowly.
"You disobeyed because you were emotional. You thought what we had gave you rights."
He stepped close, dragging the crop down her sternum. "You want to be owned, Siena? Ownership doesn't come without discipline."
He flicked the crop across her breast.
She cried out, shocked, aroused.
Another flick - her inner thigh this time. The sound echoed.
"I didn't touch her," he said between blows. "But if I had, it wouldn't matter. Because you're mine."
Crack.
She gasped, her body arching.
He hit her again. "Say it."
"I'm yours," she whimpered.
He struck harder. "Again."
"I'm yours, Sir!" she repeated.
The pain melted into heat. Into surrender. Into something her body craved.
He tossed the crop and stepped in front of her, slipping two fingers between her legs.
"You're soaked", he observed, his face smirking with satisfaction.
"I can't help it," she moaned.
"You're not supposed to."
He dropped to his knees. Licked her. Kissed her. Bit her.
And just as she was close to coming...
He stopped again.
Siena groaned, her body shaking.
"Please," she whispered.
He grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth down to his.
"You'll come when I say, not when you're desperate."
He unbuckled his belt and stepped behind her, undoing the chains at her ankles and pushing her legs wider apart. One hand wrapped around her waist. The other gripped her throat.
When he thrust into her, it was punishment.
Hard. Deep. Unrelenting.
Each stroke was a lesson, and she felt every inch of it - every ounce of his frustration, of his dominance, of his possession.
"You want to watch me with other women?" he growled.
"No," she sobbed.
"Then take this. Take what you earned", he growled as he thrust harder and deeper into her.
She came with a scream that tore from her soul - raw, broken, blinding.
And he followed her seconds later, roaring into her neck, biting down as they collapsed into the chains, both gasping, spent, and shaking.
He didn't unbind her right away.
He just held her there.
Chest to her back.
Heartbeat to heartbeat.
"You'll never need to be jealous again," Dominic whispered. "Because no one else will ever break you the way I do."
And deep down, Siena didn't want anyone else to.
********
The next day, he took her to another part of the house. The room was bathed in candlelight, warm and heavy with scent - sandalwood, blood-orange, and something darker. The walls were draped in crimson silk. At the center stood a low platform, surrounded by cushions and incense burners. Everything was softer here. Quieter. Like a chapel built for sin.
Siena stood at the threshold.
Naked. Collared. Ready.
Dominic knelt in front of her - fully clothed in a tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his chest rising and falling slow and steady. Before him lay a small wooden box. To his right, a silver chain. To his left, a ring. Not for the finger. It was meant for the collar.
She swallowed. Tonight, she would not be forced. Tonight, she would choose.
"You know what this is," Dominic said, voice deep and reverent. "It's not a contract. It's not a vow. It's surrender."
He opened the box.
Inside: a thin, silver blade - ceremonial, gleaming. A token of trust, not violence.
He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.
"I'll mark you tonight," he said softly. "Not to hurt. Not to own. To seal what already is."
Siena nodded, eyes burning.
"Say it," he whispered. "One last time."
She dropped to her knees, unprompted, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"I belong to you," she said, voice trembling. "My body. My mind. My pleasure. My pain. Everything."
He exhaled, shaking slightly. It was the first time she'd seen him undone.
He lifted the blade, pressed it against the soft inside of her hip, and with a slow, shallow stroke, carved a single line - not deep, not bleeding, but present. Permanent. A mark only he would ever see.
Her breath hitched.
He dipped his fingers into oil and smeared it gently over the mark, sealing it.
Then he reached for the silver ring.
"You may walk away now," Dominic said, holding it before her. "If you do, I'll let you go. No chains. No punishment. But if I place this on your collar, you are mine in every room. In every scene. Every moment. Forever."
Siena didn't hesitate.
She lifted her chin.
He smiled, a tremor in his mouth, and clicked the ring into place just below her throat.
It was done.
She was his.
And he treated that moment like a sacred thing.
Dominic stood, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, revealing inked muscle, scars she hadn't seen before - stories carved into his skin.
Then he lifted her into his arms and laid her gently on the altar of cushions.
"No restraints tonight," he whispered. "No denial. No punishment."
His hand slid between her legs, fingers slow and worshipful.
"Just surrender."
He kissed her as he entered her - deep, slow, unhurried - like claiming her wasn't something to be conquered but honored.
There were no spectators. No mirrors.
Only breath. Only bodies. Only them.
He moved inside her with devastating control, holding her hand against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. She cried as she came - not from pain, but from something so raw it stole her breath.
And when he finished, it wasn't with a roar.
It was with a whisper.
"My name is yours now, Siena," Dominic said, voice hoarse. "And I will never let you forget it."
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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.