His Secret Obsession

Chapter Two

Zara's Pov

I hated how his scent clung to my skin.

I hated how my thighs were still slick from him.

I hated that when I closed my eyes, I could still feel the way he f****d me like he wanted to ruin me.

But most of all, I hated that it wasn’t enough.

The city lights blurred beneath the limo’s tinted windows as I sat there, dazed, legs pressed together like that might stop the ache still throbbing between them. My throat was raw from begging from screaming his name. And the bastard didn’t even say goodbye.

He’d left me there. Bent over the leather couch in his penthouse like I was some filthy thing he could use and discard. My dress ripped. My lips swollen. My cunt leaking his c*m like it was a brand.

And it was.

“f**k,” I hissed under my breath, grinding my teeth. I hated how wet I still was, how every bump of the car made me shift, made my c**t pulse again.

I wasn’t going to be one of those girls. I had control. I had pride.

And still... When I got home, the first thing I did was lock myself in the bathroom and shove two fingers inside me, chasing the ghost of the orgasm he’d denied me twice.

I couldn't c*m. Not like this.

Not without him.

……..

It’s been three days.

Three days of silence.

Three days of checking my phone and pretending I wasn’t.

And then his name lit up my screen.

Lucien Moretti

‘Come downstairs.’

I didn’t think. Didn’t reply.

Didn’t care that I looked like sin in a silk slip I hadn’t meant anyone to see.

I was already out the door.

The moment I stepped out, the night air slapped me, humid and electric. His car was parked in front of my building like he owned it. I saw him, standing there, leaning against the sleek black hood in all his dark, lethal glory.

He didn’t say a word. Just lit a cigarette and stared.

“Stalking me now?” I snapped, arms crossed under my breasts, n*****s hard under the thin fabric. His eyes dropped, lingered. But he didn’t speak.

He took a slow drag, then flicked the cigarette away like it didn’t matter, like nothing did except me standing there, exposed and furious.

“Say something, asshole.” I snapped

“You still dripping for me?” His voice was low, rough velvet over steel.

“Three f*****g days and I bet your p***y’s still aching.”

I wanted to slap him. I wanted him to rip me apart and f**k me.

Instead, I turned to leave.

“Don’t f*****g walk away from me, Zara.”

His hand grabbed my wrist. Hard.

I spun, ready to slap him.

But he caught it mid-air. And then he was in front of me. Chest to chest. His other hand sliding up my thigh, under the silk, fingers so close to where I needed him. I could scream.

“You want me to f**k you right here, don’t you? Out in the open.” he murmured against my ear, hot breath making me tremble

I bit my lip to keep from gasping. I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t.

He slid one finger along my slit.

“So f*****g wet.”

“f**k you,”

He chuckled darkly. “You are.”

And then he pulled back.

Leaving me throbbing. Empty. Angry.

He walked to the car, opened the door, and looked back. “Get in, or I’ll bend you over that hood and let the whole street see what a needy little slut you are.”

Lucien's Pov

I should've stayed away.

I told myself I didn’t give a f**k.

Told myself she was a one-time mistake.

But I lied.

Because from the second I walked away from her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her p***y squeezing around my c**k. Couldn’t stop hearing the way she begged me not to stop. Couldn’t stop wanting to break her again.

And again.

She was my f*****g addiction and I hated it.

Sitting in my car now, legs pressed tight together, fists clenched in her lap, she looked like a goddess and a w***e rolled into one. So fragile. So dirty.

And all f*****g mine.

“I hate you,” she spat.

“You said that last time,” I murmured. “Right before you screamed my name.”

“You think this is a game? I hate what you do to me. You…You make me feel like I’m losing control.”

“You never had it,” I said, leaning in. “You lost it the second you let me inside you.”

I cupped her face. Brushed my thumb over her lips.

“You want to hate me so bad, Zara,” I whispered, mouth almost brushing hers. “But you’d let me ruin you all over again, wouldn’t you?”

“I… .I hate you,” she said again, softer this time.

I kissed her. Just a graze. Then pulled away.

“Say it again.”

“I f*****g hate…”

I shoved her down onto the seat.

“Spread your legs.”

“No”

I slapped her inner thigh as she gasped.

“Now.”

She did.

And f**k, her p***y was glistening.

“Touch yourself,” I growled. “Rub that c**t. Show me how much you hate me.”

She bit her lip. Her hand moved between her legs.

Her fingers worked fast.

I watched. I f*****g watched like a man possessed.

“Slower,” I ordered.

She moaned. Eyes closed.

“No, look at me. Keep your eyes on mine while you f**k that clit.”

Her legs trembled.

“You want to c*m?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

I leaned in, whispered, “Too bad.”

Then I grabbed her hand away and buried two fingers inside her.

“Beg,”

“Please…Lucien, please..”

“Beg like you mean it. Say you want my d**k. Say you want me to make you c*m like no one ever has.”

“I want your dick..fuck…I want you, please, I need it..I’m gonna…”

I pulled out. I enjoy seeing her beg to make her cum

“No…” she sobbed. “Don’t stop”

I licked my fingers.

“Taste yourself, baby girl.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not cumming till I say so.”

She was panting now. Writhing. Desperate.

I undid my belt. Freed my c**k.

“Get on your knees.”

Zara's POV

He f****d my mouth like he owned it.

Like he’d die if he didn’t.

His c**k hit the back of my throat over and over, his hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place while I gagged, tears running down my cheeks, my p***y soaking the seat.

And I loved every second.

Because this was hate. This was chaos. This was pain and pleasure and punishment and obsession twisted together so tight it was tearing me apart.

When he came, it was down my throat, hot and thick. He pulled back just enough for me to swallow, then dragged me onto his lap, slammed me down on his c**k.

No warning. No mercy.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept going. f****d me harder, deeper, like he wanted to obliterate every thought I’d ever had.

And when I screamed his name again, I knew I was already too far gone.

This wasn’t lust anymore.

This was something else.

Something darker.

Something that would destroy us both.