One night. One mistake. One man who refuses to let her go. Amara Leighton is a rising art curator with a tainted past and a desperate need to stay invisible in the elite world of New York's wealthy. But when she agrees to a nameless, faceless one-night stand at a masked rooftop party, she unknowingly invites the devil into her life. Lucien Wolfe is a billionaire tech mogul with ruthless ambition and an obsession for control. He never mixes business with pleasure-until Amara. Their night together was meant to be anonymous. Temporary. But when he discovers who she is, Lucien makes it his mission to pull her back into his world... and under his control. Now, she works for the man who already owns her body-and is dangerously close to owning her soul. But beneath Lucien's charm lies a vendetta, and beneath Amara's fear hides a secret that could collapse everything. As passion twists into obsession and their chemistry blurs into something darker, neither is prepared for how far they're willing to go-or what they're willing to destroy-for a love born from deception. Because in Lucien's world... Obsession always has a price.
The rooftop club's bass thrummed its way down Amara's spine as a second heartbeat-speedier, crazier, and far more reckless than the first. She shouldn't have come. She'd had a morning meeting at the gallery, and her shoes were killing her like damnation. But she was here now, sipping something amber and potent, dressed in a blood-red satin dress that clung to her like sin, and being leered at by men who kept secrets better than suits.
"Another drink, Miss Leighton?"
She turned to the bartender-a slim brunette with a pierced lip and a knowing smile.
"No, thanks. I'm not here to drown anything tonight."
She was lying. She was always drowning something. Regret. Guilt. Desire.
Especially tonight.
Her eyes cut through the group-taut bodies, loose ethics. New York's aristocracy, disguising themselves incognito in black tie and silk masks. Invitation-only. You weren't allowed in unless you wielded power, wealth, or a name murmured behind hands.
Amara had none of those anymore.
But she did possess an assumed name, a phony invitation, and a body men loved to sin with. That sufficed.
Your mask is slipping," a soft voice spoke behind her, and her heart tripped over itself.
She turned around.
And lost her breath.
He stood somewhat to the side from the rest of the group. Black from head to toe. No tie. A half-mask fashioned in matte obsidian covered the upper half of his face, showing only a jaw carved like temptation and lips that could rewrite scripture.
His presence attacked her like smoke-sluggish, dense, deadly. There was something about him that screamed restraint. Controlled menace. A man who broke rules by existing. But it was his voice-deep, gravelly-that slipped beneath her skin like bourbon-saturated silk.
"Maybe I like being noticed," she shot back, cold in the face of the flame now raging under her dress.
His eyes, guarded behind masked obscurity, searched her as if memorizing the color of her flesh against the strobe lights. "Perhaps I don't."
"What do you like?" she asked, tilting her head. Playing with danger was her one vice.
"One night," he replied bluntly. "No names. No histories. Just need."
Her throat was dry. No man ever approached her so plainly-so neatly with desire. Most men faked. Promised. Created issues.
This one did not.
"I don't usually do this," she breathed, even as her body deceived her in a creeping step forward.
He did the same-graceful, panther-quick. "Neither do I."
Another lie. She knew it. He probably did this every night. Tonight, however, so would she.
He held out a gloved hand. She did not hesitate, then inserted her hand into his. The shock was instantaneous-static and flame colliding beneath skin.
"I have a suite on the top floor," he said to her. "Or we can get this done in a messier location."
A challenge.
She blinked. "I like clean sheets."
A slow, evil smile. "I like watching them get destroyed."
---
The suite was a glass cathedral of darkness. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a skyline dense with light, and a king-sized bed built for destruction.
He closed the door behind them, and in that click, Amara felt something change. Reality blurred. Her heartbeat was a drum of wild expectation.
He spoke not as he removed his gloves, each movement calculated. Her breath caught as he approached, not touching, merely regarding. She felt him in her bones, flesh made of gravity.
"Take off the dress," he instructed.
Not a request.
A command.
She hesitated-but for a moment. Then she leaned forward, slid the straps off her shoulders, and allowed the satin to fall like a sigh to her ankles.
His breath hitched.
Below, she wore nothing but a midnight-colored lace thong. Her nipples pushing against the chill, and his gaze devoured her.
He did not approach.
He moved around her-slow, stalking prey he didn't wish to devour too quickly. "Turn around."
She did.
Fingers stroked against her back. Traced the line of her spine. Down to the crease of her hips. She felt each touch like a prayer.
"Your're real," he whispered. "Too fucking real."
And then his hands were on her-hot, hard, desperate. He spun her around, kissed her like she was property, and she dissolved into him, into the insanity.
The mask remained in place.
His tongue danced against hers, probing, taking control, before he bit her lip-hard enough to make her gasp.
Clothing stripped off in strips. Her thong ripped. His shirt took off. She saw tattoos on his chest-lines, symbols, maybe a name-but he pushed her onto the bed before she could demand to know.
And when he entered her, there was no gentleness.
No sweetness.
Only need. Black. Unyielding. True.
He fucked like a starving man. Possessive. Strong.
And she accepted it like a woman who had not been touched in years.
He gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, deeper, pulling moans from her that didn't sound like hers. The headboard slammed. Sheets tangled. Her nails carved his back. She didn't know where he ended and she began.
"Say you're mine," he growled into her neck.
"No names, remember?" she panted, even as her hips chased him like fire.
"I don't need your name," he whispered, biting her shoulder. "Just your surrender."
And in that moment, she gave it.
Her orgasm washed over her like a wave of lightning and heat, and when he followed, gasping her name-or someone's name-it didn't matter.
Because for those few minutes, she was his.
And he was hers.
---
She woke up alone.
The sheets were chilled. Her body ached in all the right places. On the pillow beside her, coiled like a secret, lay a diamond pendant in the shape of a teardrop.
And no card.
She stared at it, pulse thudding.
Who loses diamonds after a one-night stand?
Amara picked it up, heart racing. There was something written on the back.
A date.
Not the one for today. But one from so very long ago.
She swallowed.
The past she'd thought she'd buried just rattled at her door again.
And it was hidden.
A man like Travis Sinclair wants nothing more than a woman who matches his sexual prowess and is used to getting everything he wants. A cold-hearted billionaire ,he lives by one rule - no love, no commitment. Ayanna Davies isn't looking for a relationship. She's focused on her work and the financial security it brings. As a high end escort, her client is full of filthy rich men who are willing to pay handsomely for her services. But when Travis Sinclair becomes one of her clients, she begins twice about mixing work with pleasure. Not knowing that he is an old acquaintance whom she despises.
“You need a bride, I need a groom. Why don’t we get married?” Both abandoned at the altar, Elyse decided to tie the knot with the disabled stranger from the venue next door. Pitying his state, she vowed to spoil him once they were married. Little did she know that he was actually a powerful tycoon. Jayden thought Elyse only married him for his money, and planned to divorce her when she was no longer of use to him. But after becoming her husband, he was faced with a new dilemma. “She keeps asking for a divorce, but I don’t want that! What should I do?”
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"
Three years of marriage couldn't melt Theo's frozen heart. When an art gallery collapsed on Lena, he was off romancing another woman—lavishing her with a private jet. Three steel pins held Lena's shoulder together, but her heart remained broken. She filed for divorce and told everyone that he was impotent. Rising from the rubble, Lena blazed onto the design world's A‑list. She expected him to sail off with his true love—until Theo reappeared at her runway, pressing her against the wall. "Impotent, huh? Care to give it a try?"
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"