Jennatamine

In the opulent city of Caldris, where power and beauty collide behind closed doors, Riven Hale, a fiery and ambitious tattoo artist with a hidden past, is drawn into the dangerous world of high society when he’s commissioned by a mysterious billionaire to ink a private, intimate masterpiece.

That billionaire is Cassian Velthorne, heir to the ruthless Velthorne empire—a man known for his ice-cold demeanor, possessive desires, and dangerous secrets. Cassian never mixes business with pleasure—until Riven walks into his life with defiant eyes and lips begging to be kissed.

Their chemistry ignites during a single, heated night wrapped in silk sheets, dominance, and whispered confessions. But what starts as carnal obsession quickly spins into a web of power plays, jealousy, emotional vulnerability, and the emergence of unexpected rivals.

"Velvet Chains: Bound by Fire":

Riven didn't remember when the line between pain and pleasure began to blur. Maybe it was the way Cassian looked at him—like he could unravel him with a single breath. Maybe it was how desire with him was never just about lust—it was punishment, worship, addiction.

The room was dark, lit only by the flicker of a single candle. Shadows danced across the walls, echoing the tension thick in the air.

Cassian stood behind Riven, hands on his hips, lips grazing the nape of his neck. "You're mine," he said, voice rough with need, control fraying at the edges. "Say it."

Riven's breath hitched. "I'm yours."

Cassian's hands slid lower, fingers grazing the waistband of Riven's pants before yanking them down. Riven sucked in a breath, baring himself without hesitation, because the only thing more dangerous than Cassian's touch was his absence.

"You think I don't notice what you're hiding?" Cassian whispered, pressing Riven against the wall. "Every look. Every time you pull away."

Riven opened his mouth, but Cassian's hand gripped his jaw, tilting his head back. "You burn for me, Riven. Just like I burn for you."

And then Cassian was inside him—no patience, no slow buildup—just a raw, primal possession that shattered every coherent thought. Riven gasped, nails scratching at the wall, forehead pressed to the cool surface.

Cassian set a rhythm that bordered on brutal—delicious, consuming. With every thrust, every breathless growl, he forced Riven to feel, to stay in the moment, to break and melt and become something new.

"You don't get to run anymore," Cassian growled. "Not from me. Not from this."

Riven moaned, the pressure building too fast. "I wasn't running," he gasped. "I was falling."

Cassian wrapped a hand around him, dragging him to the edge as his teeth scraped Riven's shoulder, marking him again and again—scars over scars, branding him where no one else could touch.

Riven cried out, pleasure spiking into pain, and back again. He shattered in Cassian's grip, trembling as Cassian spilled into him a moment later with a deep, guttural sound.

He turned Riven around, held his face in his hands, and whispered, "You think you've reached your breaking point. But you haven't even begun to see how far we can go."

Riven looked at him—eyes glassy, lips bruised—and for the first time, smiled through the exhaustion. "Then take me there."

Cassian kissed him again—slow, deep, possessive.

Breaking Point