The confrontation with Lila lingered like poison in Freya’s veins. Every smile the woman gave her at dinner felt like a blade pressed against her throat. Victor remained blissfully unaware, laughing with Draven over old stories while Freya sat across the table, thighs still sticky from the quick, desperate f**k Draven had given her in the guest bathroom an hour earlier. The contrast was maddening — polite conversation on the surface, raw sin underneath.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Draven had bent her over the sink, hand clamped over her mouth as he pounded into her from behind, whispering, “One day I’m going to f**k you in front of the whole world so they know who you belong to.” The danger made her come harder than ever.
But Lila’s warning echoed in her head: *I will de
