All Chapters of Wildest Desires: A Dark Short Story Collection : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

142 Chapters

REHEARSAL WITH MY DIRECTOR IV

The five-minute break is a lie. I don't move from the chair, I can't. I just drape there like a discarded costume, my skin humming with the aftershocks of what she’s done. I watch Diane through the blur of my own sweat. She moves with a cold, terrifying efficiency, adjusting the standing lights until they are focused directly on the wall of mirrors. The glare is blinding, turning the studio into a bright, clinical cage."Get up, Jade," she says. It isn't an invitation. It is a cue, a cue to get to work. "The third act is about the eyes. A great actress doesn't just feel, she witnesses herself feeling. She detaches. She watches her own corruption like a hawk."I push myself off the chair, my legs feeling like they are made of cooling wax. I walk toward the mirrors, every step a struggle against the gravity of my own shame. I stop a foot away from the glass. The lights are so bright I can see every mark she has left on me, the red blossoming on my chest, the dampness on my thighs, and t

REHEARSAL WITH MY DIRECTOR V

The studio is nearly dark, lit only by the faint red glow of the exit sign and the moonlight spilling through the high, arched windows. I am still on the floor, my skin cooled by the sweat and the glass, but the core of me is a throbbing, heavy ache. I feel like a string that has been tuned too tight, one more touch and I will snap.Diane doesn't leave. She stands by the door, her hand on the light switch, watching me struggle to my knees. The Diva is gone, in the shadows, she looks like a predator waiting for her kill to stop twitching."You think because the exercise is over, you can stop being mine?" she asks, her voice a low, dangerous purr. She walks back to me, her bare feet silent on the wood. She doesn't help me up. She reaches down, grabs my chin, and forces me to look at her. Her eyes are twin pits of darkness. "I can still taste you, Jade. You’re soaked in the truth I dragged out of you. Do you really want to go home to your lonely apartment and pretend this didn't change y

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW I

The iron gates of the Thorne estate open, they retreat, sliding back like the teeth of a giant trap. I grip the steering wheel of my sedan, my knuckles white against the black leather. Everything about this place is designed to make a person feel small. The drive up to the main house is lined with ancient oaks that block out the afternoon sun, casting the world into a permanent, expensive shadow.I am not here for a social visit. Two weeks ago, Julian came home and collapsed into his leather armchair, smelling of gin and failure. A series of bad investments and a sudden market shift have wiped us out. Our home is being foreclosed. The cars are being repossessed. Worst of all is the look in Julian’s eyes, a hollow, vacant stare that tells me he has no plan. He is a man who has been broken by the world, and he is looking to me to fix it. He is my husband, and I am loyal, but I am tired of being the only one with a spine.That is why I am here. I am going to see Dominic, Julian’s father.

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW II

The door clicks shut with a finality that makes my breath hitch. Dominic doesn’t move immediately, he just stands by the entrance, his large frame silhouetted against the dark wood of the door. He has changed out of his suit into a deep charcoal silk robe that hangs heavy on his broad shoulders. He looks less like a businessman now and more like a king inspecting a new addition to his court.I stay on the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting in the silk of my slip. I feel small in the vastness of the room, my skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. Every second of silence feels like a physical pressure, a test to see if I will break or speak first. I do neither. I simply sit there, my heart thumping a quick pulse against my ribs, waiting for the first command."Stand up, Sarah," he says.His voice isn't loud, but it fills every corner of the room. It is the kind of voice that doesn't expect to be ignored. I stand. My legs feel like they are made of water, trembling so much I fear

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW III

The silk sheets feel like ice against my bare back, but the man hovering over me is a solid and hot. Dominic doesn’t just lie on top of me, he settles his entire weight with a deliberate, crushing force that makes me gasp.I can feel all of him. His hard cock, pressing between my thighs. His hard plain chest of muscles.His chest is a wall of solid, hot muscle, and as he pins my wrists above my head with one hand, I feel the sheer, terrifying scale of him. My hands feel tiny in his grip, my bones brittle against his strength.He doesn't move to satisfy himself immediately, like I expected. He just looks at me. His eyes are dark, scanning my face, my throat, and the way my breasts rise and fall with my panicked breathing."You’re shaking, Sarah," he murmurs. His voice is a low vibration I feel deep in my chest. "Is it the cold, or is it the fact that you know I can do whatever I want with you?""I... I don't know," I manage to whisper.He leans down, his face inches from mine. He smell

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW IV

The sun hasn't even fully cleared the horizon when I wake, but the weight of the previous night is already heavy on my skin. My body aches in places Julian has never even touched. My inner thighs are tender, a dull throb reminding me of the way Dominic pinned me down, and there is a faint, purple bruise blooming on my hip where his hand gripped me too hard.I wash myself in the marble shower, the hot water stinging the marks he left. As I dress in a sharp pencil skirt and a silk blouse, the kind of elegant armor I usually wear to feel in control, I realize I am not dressing for myself anymore. I am dressing to be stripped.At exactly eight, I walk into the dining room. Dominic is already there, but he isn't at the head of the table. He is sitting at a small, circular table by the window, a spread of black coffee and a single leather-bound ledger in front of him. He doesn't look up when I enter."Sit, Sarah," he says.I sit. The chair is hard, and the movement makes me wince slightly a

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW V

The library is a tomb of silence, the air smelling of old paper and the lingering scent of Dominic’s cigar. I stand by the massive wide desk, my skin prickling. Following his order has been the most terrifying and exhilarating thing I have ever done. Walking through the halls, passing the silent staff, knowing that I am bare beneath my silk skirt, makes every step feel like an act of defiance against my own morality.The door behind me opens. I don't turn. I don't need to. The heavy, measured thud of his footsteps tells me exactly who it was."Turn around, Sarah," Dominic commands.I turn. He is looking at me with that same cold, auditing gaze. He walks to the center of the room and sits in his oversized leather chair. He doesn't look tired. He looks energized by what he is unfolding."Did you follow my instruction?" he asks, his eyes dropping to the hem of my skirt."Yes, Sir," I whisper. To prove it, I reach down and bunch the fabric of my skirt in my hands, lifting it just enough.

MANAGED BY MY FATHER IN LAW VI

The dining room is a sea of crystal and silver, reflecting the flickering candlelight in a way that makes the whole room feel like a stage. Julian sits to my left, looking more alive than he has in months. The hollow look in his eyes is gone, replaced by a flush of relief. He looks younger, his suit pressed and his posture relaxed as he laughs at one of his father’s dry remarks. To any outsider, we are the picture of a successful family celebrating a narrow escape from ruin.But beneath the tablecloth, in the dark, my reality is falling apart.Every time I shift in my chair, the silk of my gown rubs against my sensitized skin. I am still bare underneath, exactly as Dominic commanded. The cool air of the room circulates under the hem of my dress, but the heat between my legs is a constant, pulsing throb. I feel the heavy, wet reminder of the library, the physical proof of my betrayal clinging to my inner thighs. I feel like I have been filled to the brim by my father-in-law, so full th

SPELLED MY ANCESTOR TO LIFE I

The air in the gallery is thick with the smell of dust and old oil. I hold the grimoire in my hands, its leather cover cold and cracked against my palms. My flashlight flickers, casting long, shaky shadows over the rows of faces staring at me from their frames. They are all my ancestors, but only one of them matters.I stop in front of the largest portrait. Duke Julian. He stands in a field of dark velvet, his eyes so sharp they seem to cut through the canvas. He is beautiful in a way that feels dangerous. His lips are pulled into a slight, arrogant smirk, and his hand rests on the hilt of a sword as if he’s just waiting for a reason to draw it. The legends say he was a monster of a man, a hedonist who broke every law of God and nature. Looking at him now, my skin prickles. I’ve spent my life reading about men like him, trapped in a modern world that feels too clean, too quiet.I want to feel something real. Even if it ruins me.I open the book to the page marked with a black ribbon.

SPELLED MY ANCESTOR TO LIFE II

Julian growls, his teeth grazing the side of my neck. He bites me, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark that will last. He is marking his territory. He is claiming the energy he needs to survive the night. He moves his hands down, grabbing my ass and lifting my hips to meet his thrusts. He is hammering into me now, his breath coming in jagged, desperate gasps.The sound in the room is just the wet slap of our bodies and the echoes of my moans. I feel the first peak rising, a pressure that makes my toes curl. My vision is blurring, the dark gallery spinning around me."Don't you dare close your eyes," Julian commands, his voice breaking with the effort. "Look at me. Know who is taking you."I force my eyes open. I see him. I see the Duke, the monster from the painting, his face tight with a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He looks like he’s fighting a war. Just as the release hits me, I see his hand. It was starting to turn to smoke again, but as I climax, the grey color

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