His Secret Obsession

Chapter 7

Zara's Pov

It was supposed to be over.

That was the lie I whispered to myself while I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower, trying to erase the feel of Lucien’s hands, those filthy, violent hands that made me c*m so hard I forgot who I was. Who he was.

But the moment I stepped out of the penthouse suite, I knew he wasn’t done with me.

Neither was I.

My phone buzzed.

Sebastian Voss: Dinner. Eight. You’ll look stunning in the red one I sent.

I stared at the message, my stomach twisting. Not from guilt, f**k that, but from the sick thrill of power. The red dress he meant was draped over my bed, still with the tag. Designer, of course. Tailored like he already knew my measurements.

That was the thing about Sebastian. He never missed.

Just like Lucien never forgave.

I slipped into the dress, my thighs still sore from the way Lucien had pinned them open last night. Every step reminded me of his rough fingers, the way he’d dragged his tongue across my c**t just to whisper, "You’ll beg for it, slut. And I won’t give it to you."

And I had. I f*****g begged.

By the time I walked into Sebastian’s private dining hall, I had the face of a woman with secrets.

He stood as I approached, eyes raking over me. “Zara,” he purred, like he owned the name.

I sat down. Crossed my legs. “Sebastian.”

The food was untouched. We didn’t eat. We didn’t talk. Not about the company. Not about my mother. Not about the fact that I’d had my mouth wrapped around his c**k just weeks before she said yes to his ring.

His hand reached across the table, brushing my wrist.

“I don’t like when you disappear,” he said, voice low.

“I don’t like when people try to control me.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s why I chose you.”

I laughed, because what the hell else could I do? Between Lucien’s bruises and Sebastian’s games, I was drowning. And somewhere in me...I f*****g liked it.

Across the city, Lucien Moretti stood over a man begging for his life.

“He grabbed her ass,” Matteo muttered.

Lucien didn’t blink. “That so?”

“Yeah. Outside her building.”

Lucien’s jaw ticked. He didn’t speak again.

Just raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

Blood splattered across the marble.

“She’s mine,” he growled.

Back at the penthouse, I peeled the red dress off slowly. Alone.

Or so I thought.

A shadow moved. I gasped. He stepped out.

Lucien.

Black shirt. Blood on the collar.

“What the f**k are you doing here?”

He walked to me slowly, like a predator. “You think I don’t know where you go, who you’re with?”

“I’m not yours.”

He reached for me, dragged a finger down my arm. “Then why do you smell like me?”

My knees buckled. He caught me.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said, pressing me against the wall. “Now shut up and let me remind you how much.”

He dropped to his knees.

Ripped my panties clean off.

And licked me like I was his last meal.

The world fell away.

His tongue was brutal. Vicious. He teased my c**t until I sobbed, then stopped. Pulled back. Smirked.

“Beg for it.”

“Lucien… ”

“Say it.”

“Please. Please let me cum.”

He stood up. Dragged the head of his d**k along my slit. Pressed it in an inch then pulled out.

“You want to come?”

“Yes… f**k! Yes!”

He slammed into me so hard the breath left my lungs.

“I’ll give it to you, w***e. But you’ll scream my name when you do.”

He f****d me until I forgot who Sebastian was.

Until I forgot my own name.

Only his.

Lucien.

Lucien.

Lucien.