“Christ, How long have you fantasized about having my cock in your tight little hole?” Caelian groaned as he slapped his cock against my slick wet pussy making such an erotic sound in the room that would have embarrassed me because I was dripping wet, if not that I am scared I might die of too much pleasurable torture. ***** I am Diane and for the most part, I am a scholarship student with straight-A grades, no social life, and the good kid my father worries less about unlike my troublesome siblings who have been a handful after mom’s death. But at night, in the secret of my room and the confines of my wall, as my hand shakily traces the seam of my pant before pushing it to the side and my head falls back in desire, I stroke myself to the thought of a man 10 years older than me, unattainable, way out of my league and cruel. Oh did I mention that the media calls him the Devil Spawn and he has never been seen with any woman draped around him at social events twice and he had a reputation for breaking hearts with a dazzling smile? Grumpy Caelian Valentino is not a good guy by any means, he was called ruthless by rivals and the perfect gift of the Devil by enraged exes but that’s the appeal and it is alright because he is just a dirty forbidden indulgence. It isn’t like something absurd will happen and I will end up working for him as his housekeeper right?

“You are to cease all association with Damon and stop seeing him with immediate effect,” I narrowed my eyes at Damien and at his heated gaze, I made myself appear so small on his bed where I sat, still scared that Evangeline might walk in and have a misconception. “But I am not done with my mission,” I insisted. He scoffed and eyed Damon’s crisp white shirt I had on with disdain. “Of course, you are not done.” I scowled at his tone. “What does that mean?” “It means” he muttered slowly leaving the spot where he was standing in front of his dresser eying my frame, “I bought you,” he enunciated closing the space between us with long strides. “I own you,” he stopped at the edge of the bed and bent his head to meet my gaze, his impossibly long lashes resting on his cheeks. “You belong to me,” then producing a startled gasp from my lips I didn’t see coming, he fisted his hand at the collar of the shirt and in one yank tore it. ****** My story must have started before now but this is all that I remember. I am a human among Vampires and my race had been defeated by the Vampires three years ago. We are called pets; handpicked and secluded from other human slaves. We were easy on the eyes; pretty, they had said, hence, we were kept to be more than mere food unlike the other humans who were preyed on by the vampires. I haven’t seen what have become of the human race, the same way I have never seen a mirror for the past three years. I remember nothing, I was nothing. I have no name and was known only by the number on my collar. ’14.’ I’m ‘14’ and this is my story. He thinks he can break me but how exactly do you break something that has already been broken?