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Velvet Chains: Bound by Desires

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Bound to Please

Elena didn’t know what she expected after that night, but it certainly wasn’t the silence that followed.

Three days.

No calls.

No messages.

No velvet envelopes.

Just the echo of his voice in her head and the phantom pressure of silk around her wrists.

She hated how her body reacted when she thought of him. How her breath caught when someone passed by her art studio in a tailored suit. How her fingers trembled when she touched her own skin—searching for the same fire he’d lit in her.

She was unraveling.

And she was furious that he wasn't there to watch.

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The message came on the fourth night. Short. Cold.

> Room 19. 11 PM. Do not be late. Wear black. No underwear.

She was already dressed before she could tell herself no.

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The room was darker than before. Lit only by floor lanterns casting golden shadows across the walls. No furniture. Just a single silk rope hanging from the ceiling.

She froze.

A low chuckle filled the space.

"You came," he said. Not a question—an observation.

He emerged from the shadows like a secret, dressed in all black. Mask still on. Always on.

"And you wore what I asked. Good girl."

She lifted her chin. “You disappeared.”

He walked in a slow circle around her. “You were wet for me for three days. Weren’t you?”

She flushed violently. “That’s none of your—”

He stopped behind her. Close. Too close.

“You touched yourself thinking of me, Elena?”

She clenched her fists. “No.”

"Liar."

His voice dropped into something that made her legs wobble.

“Rule three. No lies.”

Before she could speak, he reached forward, lifted her wrists, and gently guided them to the rope. He tied them overhead—tight, but not painful.

Then stepped back.

“You’ll beg tonight,” he said simply.

"For what?"

He moved behind her again, fingers ghosting down her spine. “Release. Forgiveness. Me.”

She swallowed hard.

“You're already shaking," he murmured. "And I haven't even touched you."

And then he did.

His hands roamed slowly over her hips, up her sides, under the thin black silk of her dress. His touch was a contradiction—firm but reverent, exploring but claiming.

He leaned in, mouth at her ear. "Tonight, your body belongs to me. Every whimper, every shiver, every scream—I want it all."

Then she felt it: the sharp, icy kiss of leather striking her inner thigh.

She cried out.

“You’ll tell me what you want,” he whispered.

The crop struck again. Then again. Building rhythm. Building need.

“Say it.”

“No,” she gasped, biting her lip.

He laughed—dark and low. “Then I’ll keep going.”

She squirmed, but the bonds held.

His voice was silk and sin. “Tell me, Elena... do you want to come?”

She wanted to scream it. She wanted to sob it.

But pride was a cruel master.

“No.”

His mouth pressed to her ear again. “Then I’ll make you beg for it.”

He dropped to his knees behind her, dragging his hands up her thighs, parting her with ease. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him.

Felt his breath.

Felt his tongue.

Felt her sanity unravel.

And finally—her voice broke.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

“Please let me come.”

His breath was fire. “Louder.”

“Please,” she moaned. “I need to—please, Sir—”

He growled against her skin, and suddenly, the pressure was overwhelming. Her knees buckled, but the rope held her in place as pleasure detonated inside her like an explosion.

When she collapsed, trembling and breathless, he whispered into her ear:

“That was for lying.”

EP6 Teaser: The Red Room

She’s seen glimpses—

Brushed past the door with the crimson seal.

Felt its gravity every time Damien whispered, You’re not ready.

But tonight, the door opens.

And what lies beyond it?

Isn’t just a room.

It’s a revelation.

Red walls.

Black restraints.