로그인Sarah woke up to find that she was completely alone. It was already almost ten in the morning when she opened her eyes.Her body ached from what had happened the night before. She slowly scanned the room—there was no sign of Damian Thorne anywhere.She stood up, wrapped the white blanket around her body, and walked toward the door where her bag lay on the floor.She picked it up and opened it, searching for her phone. When she finally found it and checked the screen, her heart sank—29 missed calls from her mother, Eleanor. There were 12 missed calls from Luca, along with several text messages.She rubbed her forehead, forcing herself to remember what had happened the night before. With a heavy sigh, she went back to the bed, lay down, and exhaled slowly.-When Damian arrived back at the mansion at eight forty three in the morning, Eleanor immediately approached him.“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you since last night. You said there was traffic—so why are you only getti
The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the rumpled sheets, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.Sarah’s back arched off the mattress as Damian drove into her with a force that stole her breath, each thrust deep, unrelenting, his thick cock stretching her slick pussy to the point of ache.She clung to him, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders, her nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin.The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall, a steady beat to the filthy symphony of their bodies slapping together, the wet sounds of her arousal filling the room.Damian’s hands were iron clamps on her hips, his fingers pressing so hard she knew there’d be bruises tomorrow—marks she’d trace in the mirror, remembering this, the way he fucked her like he owned her.His breath came in rough, hot bursts against her ear, his voice a low, possessive growl. “You’re mine, Sarah. My fucking property.” The words sent a
The night air was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and damp pavement as Damian leaned against the cold brick wall outside the event hall, his broad shoulders tense beneath the tailored cut of his suit.The ember of his cigarette glowed like a warning in the dark, each drag slow, deliberate—an attempt to burn away the image seared into his mind. Sarah. Laughing. Touching him. That fucking pretty boy, Luca, with his smug grin and hands all over what Damian still considered his.The memory of her fingers brushing Luca’s arm, the way she’d tilted her head back when he whispered something in her ear—it coiled in Damian’s gut like a serpent, venomous and relentless.His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration sharp against his thigh. He exhaled a stream of smoke before pulling it out, the screen lighting up with Eleanor’s name.His jaw tightened. He didn’t have the patience for her tonight, not when the taste of betrayal was still bitter on his tongue. He answered, his voice low,
The first light of dawn had barely touched the skyline when Damian stepped into the empty elevator of Thorne & Co.’s headquarters, his polished Oxfords clicking against the marble floor.The building was still, the hum of the city outside muted by the thick glass walls, but his pulse was anything but quiet.His fingers twitched around the leather portfolio in his hand, the weight of the documents inside—finalized, signed, sealed—sending a thrill through him.The merger with the American investor had gone through. After months of negotiations, late-night calls across time zones, and enough red tape to strangle a man, it was done.Tonight, the gala would be more than a celebration; it would be a statement. Thorne & Co. was no longer just a European powerhouse—it was a global force.He exhaled sharply as the elevator ascended, the reflection in the mirrored walls showing a man who looked every bit the part: tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt, a tie knotted with precision. But his dark
The organ music swelled, a saccharine tide Sarah wanted to drown in. After one week. One week of agonizing replays, sleepless nights punctuated by the ghosts of whispered promises and shattered trust in that secret room. Now, here she was, watching her mother glide serenely down the aisle towards Damian. Her Damian. Or, more accurately, Eleanor's Damian.Sarah’s stomach churned. She should be happy. This was her mother's fairytale. A second chance at love after years of quiet widowhood. But all she felt was a suffocating guilt, a lead weight anchoring her heart to the floor.Naomi, her best friend since kindergarten, squeezed her hand. "Forget that jerk," she hissed, her voice barely audible above the music. "She doesn't deserve either of you."Sarah managed a faint smile, more grimace than genuine amusement. Easy for Naomi to say. Naomi wasn't carrying the burden of knowing. She wasn't the one who had stumbled upon her mother and Damian, in a moment of unguarded passion, in that hidd
The mansion door groaned shut behind Eleanor, her silhouette swallowed by the mist curling along the grounds. Sarah exhaled, ready to follow—until a sudden chill brushed the back of her neck.Damian appeared beside her she didn’t get two steps before his hand clamped around her wrist, his fingers like steel bands, unyielding.The heat of his bare torso pressed against her back as he yanked her against him, the scent of his cologne—dark, spiced, intoxicating—filling her lungs as she gasped.His suit jacket had been discarded hours ago, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hard planes of his chest,“Running already?” His breath was hot against her ear, his lips brushing the shell of it just long enough to send a traitorous shiver down her spine. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part.”Sarah’s pulse hammered in her throat, her blouse clinging to her skin, the silk damp with sweat. “Let go of me,” she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual bite, thick with somet
After they finished eating at the restaurant, Damian offered to take them to see the mansion where they would live after the wedding.Sarah declined, but her mother, Eleanor, insisted on going and said, “Please, Sarah. You know I can’t do this without you.” After her mother’s pleading, Sarah had no
The bridal boutique’s air was thick with the scent of silk and lace, the kind of sweet, suffocating perfume that clung to the throat like regret.Sarah stood frozen in her bridesmaid gown, the emerald fabric clinging to her hips, the neckline dipping just low enough to tease the swell of her breast
Damian’s place was a penthouse downtown, all floor-to-ceiling windows and sleek, modern furniture that looked like it cost more than her annual salary.The elevator ride up was suffocating, the mirrored walls reflecting her flushed face, the way her nipples were still hard from the chill of the par
Eleanor and Damian sat at their small round table in the cozy kitchen, enjoying a warm breakfast. The morning sun streamed through the window, making the room feel bright and cheerful. They laughed and shared stories, both feeling a sense of happiness in each other's company.Just then, Sarah emerg







