Favour_Abigail

"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."
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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.

Her Master's desire

Why do I feel so disgusted with myself? Shame curls around my chest, tightening with every breath. I slept with him. I threw myself at him like a fool, and now here I am—trapped beneath his heavy arm, his body flush against my back, his morning arousal pressing into me like a cruel reminder of my recklessness.

Regret hangs over me like a storm cloud, thick and suffocating. This feels worse than a hangover.

His voice, deep and edged with amusement, startles me. I hadn't realized he was awake.

My eyes squeeze shut in sheer mortification. *Sir?* Really?

"I think we've grown past formality, wife."

The mockery in his voice is unbearable. He's enjoying this—my discomfort, my regret. I can feel it in the lazy, satisfied way he stretches behind me. *Damn it. I shouldn't have done this.* Now, he'll have the upper hand, laughing at me, teasing me all day.

Chapter 97