INICIAR SESIÓN“You're making this hard for me, Leo…” tears spilled out from Daveson's eyes as he was pressed against the wall with Leonard's tall frame hovering before him. “...shhhh…it's also difficult for me too, imagine knowing you're a traitor but I feel powerless to do anything. What the fuck have you done to me Dave….” His breath hitched. Daveson's dad got imprisoned and died the night he was released at the hospital. Daveson's world shattered and crumbled, his mum left him too leaving him with nothing to survive on and he was just sixteen. Four years later, the young Daveson was now grown and changed to a man seeking for revenge of his father's death. He finds hints and evidences of the perpetrator of the whole event and it's Lissa Heyden, New York's top lady. Working his way through, he gets into the Heyden's house and meets Leonard Heyden who seemed to be both his blessing and nemesis. How would he fall in love with the son of the person who ruined his family and why should he love when all he got in his past love was heartbreak. A lot of dark hidden secrets capable of breaking mutual trust soon come to view. Let's delve into their world of forbidden romance and revenge, it's also perfect for hate to love fans.
Ver más"You're making this hard for me, Leo…" tears spilled out from Daveson's eyes as he was pressed against the wall with Leonard's tall frame hovering before him.
"...shhhh…it's also difficult for me too, imagine knowing you're a traitor but I feel powerless to do anything. What the fuck have you done to me Dave…." His breath hitched.
Leonard's hands came up to frame Daveson's face, thumbs brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made Daveson's chest ache. "Don't cry," he murmured, his violet eyes dark with desire and something deeper, more dangerous. "I can't think straight when you cry."
"Then don't think," Daveson whispered, his voice breaking. His hands found Leonard's chest, feeling the rapid thundering of his heart beneath the expensive silk shirt. "Just... touch me. Make me forget everything else."
A low groan escaped Leonard's throat. "Dave, if I start, I won't be able to stop."
"Good." Daveson fisted his hands in Leonard's shirt, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "I don't want you to stop."
That was all the permission Leonard needed. His mouth crashed down on Daveson's, claiming him with a hunger that stole the breath from his lungs. This wasn't the gentle kiss from earlier—this was raw need, desperation, months of tension finally exploding between them.
Daveson opened for him immediately, their tongues meeting in a dance that was both battle and surrender. Leonard tasted like whiskey and sin, and Daveson couldn't get enough. His fingers tangled in Leonard's yellow hair, tugging at the wavy curls as Leonard pressed him harder against the wall.
"God, Dave," Leonard panted against his lips, his hands sliding down to grip Daveson's hips. "You drive me fucking crazy. Every day watching you, wanting you, knowing I shouldn't..."
"Show me," Daveson demanded, rolling his hips forward. The friction made them both gasp. "Show me how much you want me."
Leonard's eyes blazed. His hands moved to Daveson's thighs, lifting him effortlessly. Daveson wrapped his legs around Leonard's waist instinctively, feeling the solid strength of him, the power barely restrained in his lean muscular frame.
"Feel that?" Leonard ground against him, and Daveson could feel exactly how affected he was, hard and thick and straining against the confines of his tailored slacks. "That's what you do to me. Every fucking day."
Daveson moaned, his head falling back against the wall as pleasure shot through him. "Leo..."
"Say it again." Leonard's mouth found his throat, lips and teeth marking a path down to his collar. "Say my name like that again."
"Leo," Daveson breathed, his hands sliding under Leonard's shirt, desperate to feel skin. "Please..."
Leonard captured his mouth again, swallowing his pleas as his hands roamed everywhere, sliding under Daveson's shirt, mapping the planes of his lean torso, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples until Daveson was trembling in his arms.
"You're so beautiful," Leonard murmured between kisses, his voice rough with need. "So fucking perfect. I want to memorize every inch of you."
His hand slid lower, palming Daveson through his pants, and Daveson cried out at the contact. The sound echoed in the empty hallway, obscene and desperate.
"Shh," Leonard soothed, though his own breathing was ragged. "Someone might hear."
"I don't care," Daveson gasped, but Leonard's hand covered his mouth gently.
"I do. I'm not letting anyone interrupt this." Leonard's free hand worked at Daveson's belt, his movements practiced despite the urgency. "Not when I finally have you exactly where I want you."
Daveson's hands weren't idle either. He fumbled with Leonard's belt, needing to touch, needing to feel. When his fingers finally wrapped around Leonard's length through the thin fabric of his boxers, Leonard's hips jerked forward involuntarily.
"Fuck," Leonard hissed, his forehead dropping to Daveson's shoulder. "Dave, your hands..."
"You're so hard," Daveson marveled, his fingers exploring the impressive length and thickness of him. "So big, Leo. I can feel how much you want this."
Leonard's breath was coming in harsh pants now. "Want you. Only you. Been going crazy thinking about this."
He shifted their positions, supporting Daveson with one arm while his other hand slipped into Daveson's pants. The first touch of skin on skin made them both groan. Leonard's fingers wrapped around him, stroking slowly, deliberately, watching Daveson's face as pleasure washed over his features.
"Look at me," Leonard commanded softly. When Daveson's brown eyes met his, glazed with lust, Leonard smiled. "There you are. God, you're gorgeous like this. Falling apart for me."
"Only for you," Daveson admitted, the words escaping before he could stop them. His hand worked Leonard in tandem, matching his rhythm. "Only ever for you."
Something shifted in Leonard's expression—the hunger giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. "Dave, I—"
Footsteps. Distant but approaching.
They froze, eyes wide, reality crashing back in. Leonard carefully lowered Daveson to his feet, both of them frantically adjusting their clothes. Daveson's lips were swollen, his hair mussed, and there was a visible mark blooming on his throat where Leonard had sucked too hard.
"Shit," Leonard muttered, trying to smooth down Daveson's collar to hide the evidence. His own hair was a disaster, and his pants were doing a poor job of hiding his arousal. "The library. Now."
He grabbed Daveson's hand, practically dragging him down the hallway and into the massive Heyden library. The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind them, Leonard had Daveson pressed against it, their mouths meeting again with renewed urgency.
"Can't stop," Leonard gasped between kisses. "Can't fucking stop touching you."
"Don't," Daveson urged, his hands sliding down to grip Leonard's ass, pulling their hips together. The friction was exquisite torture. "Don't stop. Not yet."
Leonard walked them backward toward the large leather sofa in the corner, never breaking the kiss. When the back of his knees hit the furniture, he sat down heavily, pulling Daveson to straddle his lap.
This new position put them perfectly aligned, and Daveson couldn't help the moan that escaped as he ground down against Leonard's hardness. Leonard's hands gripped his hips, guiding his movements, creating a rhythm that had them both panting.
"Like this," Leonard encouraged, his voice wrecked. "Just like this, baby. Feel so good against me."
Daveson's hands found their way back under Leonard's shirt, nails raking lightly down his chest. Leonard shuddered beneath him, his hips jerking up to meet each roll of Daveson's body.
"Want to touch you properly," Daveson whispered against Leonard's ear. "Want to feel all of you."
"Yeah?" Leonard's hands moved to Daveson's shirt, unbuttoning it with surprising dexterity given how his fingers were shaking. "Want my hands on you? Want me to make you come apart?"
"Yes," Daveson hissed as Leonard's mouth found his chest, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin. "God, yes."
"I came into your home to expose your mother for what she actually did. I never wanted to hurt you. I did not know, when I started, that there would be a you to want anything about at all.""Do you understand what you're describing." Leonard's hands had curled at his sides, and he had pulled back, put distance between them on the bed that felt, to Daveson, like the widest distance that had ever existed between two people occupying the same six feet of space. "Every conversation. Every moment on that roof. The coffee, the drive home from the gala, last night in that room with the antiseptic when I told you I loved you. You're telling me all of that happened alongside a plan to burn my family to the ground.""Yes.""Just yes.""I won't lie to you about it, not after everything, not after last night. Yes. All of that happened alongside the plan. And somewhere in the middle of it, the plan stopped being the only true thing, and you became true too, and I did not know how to tell you that w
Daveson did not sleep.Leonard did, eventually, sometime past three, exhaustion finally winning out over the adrenaline that had kept him rigid and watchful for hours after the last of Ivanna's men had been zipped into bags and driven away from the east lawn in vehicles that did not officially exist. He slept with one hand still fisted loosely in the fabric of Daveson's shirt, as though some unconscious part of him intended to notice immediately if Daveson tried to leave the bed, and Daveson lay very still beside him and looked at the ceiling and did the thing he had been avoiding since one in the morning.He let himself actually think about it.The notebook was still in his desk drawer down the hall. The flagged transactions were still there, his father's name still attached to a ledger that Lissa Heyden had built her rise on the back of, still waiting for the moment Daveson had spent eighteen months preparing to deliver, the moment where the careful architecture of his presence in t
Six weeks before Ivanna ever set foot in this house through a side entrance, in a hospital that existed on no directory a person could consult if they went looking for it, Roarke John opened his eyes and understood, before he understood anything else, that he was supposed to be dead.The last clear memory he had was the parking structure outside the prison. Release papers folded in his coat pocket. Eleven years reduced on appeal, then reduced again to time served on a technicality his lawyer had fought so long for that Roarke had stopped believing in it, and then, astonishingly, the gate had opened and he had walked out into cold October air a free man for the first time in nearly a decade.He had gotten as far as the second level of the structure.He remembered a shape stepping out from between two parked cars. A second shape behind it. He remembered thinking, with the strange clarity that arrives in the half second before violence, she couldn't even wait one night, and then the memo
What happened in the half second after that shot went out did not, for a long time afterward, arrange itself in Daveson's memory as a sequence with a clean beginning and end. He knew that Leonard moved. He knew that one of Leonard's men, positioned behind Ivanna and closer than she had accounted for, returned fire in the same instant her shot went wide into the dark past Daveson's shoulder. He knew that Ivanna went down, and that she did not get back up, and that the quality of the night changed in the specific absolute way it changed when something that had been alive stopped being alive.The gunfire tapered. Then stopped.Leonard's men were securing the last of Ivanna's people, and the eastern treeline had gone quiet, and somewhere in the house lights were coming on, staff waking to a night that had broken open around them, and none of it mattered to Daveson nearly as much as the fact that Leonard had turned from where Ivanna's body lay and was crossing back to him with an expressio
He came back at two in the afternoon.Daveson knew the time because he'd been watching the light move across the floor since sometime around eleven, tracking the particular slow arc of it the way he'd tracked the IV clock at Dr. Chen's clinic, with the attention of a person who has determined that
"You want to do what?" Daveson stared at Leonard like he'd lost his mind."Pay Morrison," Leonard repeated. "But not with money."They stood in the hallway, Morrison's thirty-minute deadline ticking away like a bomb. Through the drawing room door, Leonard could hear his mother making phone calls, p
Inside the drawing room, Leonard felt like he couldn't breathe.Morrison sat across from him, that damned folder on the table between them, containing God knew what evidence of their relationship. Of the pregnancy. Of everything they'd been desperately trying to hide."You're making a mistake," Lis
Marcus's voice came through. "Mr. Heyden? Mrs. Heyden asked me to inform you that the Kanes have arrived early. They're waiting in the main drawing room.""Of course they are," Leonard muttered. Then louder: "Thank you, Marcus. We'll be right down."He looked at Daveson and Victoria. "Game faces on






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