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Her Master's desire

"Take her," the dangerous man orders casually, like I'm the most boring little human he's ever encountered in his life. "I said stay the fuck away!" I yell at him this time, causing him to tilt his head in amusement. "A little girl like you shouldn't be swearing at your elders. It's bad habit. Your daddy should have taught you better." Hold on. My daddy. And if I heard correctly the first time, the other man had mentioned something about 'daughter' and 'grown woman'. Shit! What's going on? This must be Darius Hunter! And how do they know about my existence!? Oh no! My father! Have they taken him? Have they hurt him? "Darius... Hunter?" I stutter in sheer terror, the dangerous man tensing as I mention his name. "You know my name. I don't know if I should be impressed or disappointed," Darius chuckles, amusement seeping into his tone. "Errrm... I... Where's my father...?" My demand sounds more like a plea, my voice shuddering in painful anticipation. "Waiting for you at my place. He said we should come get you. I didn't expect you to be old enough to beat up my man. I am definitely impressed, and your value, my dear, has just gone up." --------------------------- Allison, a confined young woman who finds solace in books and writing, is thrust into a world of danger and deceit when her father, Frank, a reformed gambler turned priest, sells her to Darius Hunter, the infamous "Devil of California," to settle an old debt. Darius tries everything possible to break Allison for his pleasure, promising himself not to touch her innocence. Yet, as Allison navigates the treacherous waters of her new life, she discovers hidden strengths, forms unexpected bonds, and unravels the dark secrets of her family’s past. Amidst turmoil and passion, Allison and Darius find themselves entangled in a powerful and transformative love story, punctuated by shocking twists and turns.

Favour_Abigail · Urban
Not enough ratings
88 Chs

Chapter 76

Darius's POV

I need her!

No, I miss her!

Or maybe I'm just aching with desire!

"Fuck you, Allison," I groan, the words escaping my lips like a desperate plea as I let this strange woman's skilled hands work their magic on me. Every stroke sends electric pulses through my body, yet my mind betrays me, conjuring vivid images of Allison's touch. Her hands—soft, familiar—would feel infinitely better, but this woman is a professional. She doesn't bat an eye at the name I call out; she's been paid to bring me pleasure, and she knows it.

Just as she leans in, lips tantalizingly close, I gently push her away. "That's enough," I murmur, my voice strained. I can't bear the thought of another woman's mouth on me, not when the memory of Allison's warmth is etched in my mind. But as the days drag on without intimacy, the pressure builds inside me, threatening to erupt.