His Exclusive Stripper: You Are Mine, Don

I walked until I reached a bus station. I waited for a few minutes before the bus arrived, feeling the cool breeze and the night air on my face. It was exactly what I needed. I had walked all day searching for Evelyn but hadn’t found her. I had even had sex with four men just to get the money for this mission, a testament to how far I was willing to go. I would do whatever it took to get Evelyn to Antonio. I wanted to see him torture her with his own hands. I craved to hear her screams and cries when he did that. I could wait for that moment. It was all I could imagine in my head. After Evelyn was dealt with by Antonio, I’d have him all to myself again.

The thought of Antonio’s touch sent shivers down my spine. I love dicks naturally, but there was something unique about Antonio’s that I couldn’t even describe. It had an ingredient that made me think about him every day and want him every day. I could let him fuck me all the day. On top of that, Antonio would finally give me the money for my face surgery, and I’d look beautiful again. I wouldn’t have to hide behind layers of thick makeup.

I didn’t realize how lost in my thoughts I had been until I suddenly found myself staring at people alighting from the bus. This was my stop, the junction to Antonio’s mansion. I quickly got out and started walking towards the gate. The guards recognized me and let me in without a word. I headed straight to Antonio’s room, my heart pounding with anticipation.

I tried to open his room’s door, but it was locked.

“Who is there?” he asked through the door.

“It’s me, Reina. Why did you lock your door? Can’t I get in?”

He ignored my questions and said, “Did you get her?”

“No, I didn’t, but I will make sure I find her. I will do anything,” I said with determination. “Can I get in now?” I asked again, my voice almost pleading.

“I want to be alone. I don’t need you here,” he said coldly.

“Fine. I’ll be here if you need me,” I said, trying to mask my disappointment. I walked to my room, my steps heavy with fatigue.From NôvelDrama.Org.

When I got to my room, I collapsed onto the bed immediately, feeling the exhaustion from the day’s events. After a moment, I forced myself up, took off my clothes, grabbed a towel, and rushed into the bathroom.

The bathroom was spacious, with marble tiles that gleamed under the soft light. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body. The steam enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth to soothe my aching muscles. I lathered my body with a luxurious soap that smelled of lavender and chamomile, the rich foam covering my skin. I massaged it in slowly, taking my time to wash away the grime and tension of the day. I ran my fingers through my hair, working the shampoo into a thick lather before rinsing it out. The hot water felt like a balm, relaxing every part of me.

After what felt like an eternity, I turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping myself in a soft, fluffy towel. I dried myself off and applied my creams, each stroke of the lotion a ritual that made me feel pampered and renewed. I slipped into a silk nightgown, the fabric cool and smooth against my skin.

I lay down on the bed, my mind wandering back to thoughts of Antonio torturing Evelyn and then fucking me every day once she was out of the way. The thought of his dominance and power made me wet instantly. I couldn’t help but touch myself, my fingers tracing the outline of my desire. I kept thinking about Antonio, his hands on me, his body dominating mine, and drifted into a restless sleep, filled with dreams of what was to come.

_-_-_-_-

Back in Antonio’s room, he was drowning in alcohol, the sharp scent of whiskey mingling with the stale air. He poured another glass, his hands shaking slightly, and downed it in one gulp. The burn of the liquor did nothing to dull the ache in his chest. He couldn’t shake the image of Evelyn and her ex out of his mind. The betrayal stung deeper than he had anticipated. Evelyn had been different. She had managed to bring out the soft part of him, the part he had long buried under layers of ruthlessness and power.

He had taken care of her, showered her with love, care and even gifts, and would have done any other thing for her. Yet, she had chosen to betray him. The thought gnawed at him, each memory of their time together now tainted with bitterness. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the bottle and hurled it against the wall. It shattered with a loud crash, shards of glass flying everywhere as the amber liquid splashed and dripped down the wall.

“Why, Evelyn?!!!” he screamed, his voice raw and filled with anguish. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried to control his emotions. But the anger was too much to contain.

“I’ll make you suffer. You, of all people, betray me?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with venom. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. His fists clenched, knuckles white from the pressure, and he walked over to the wall where the bottle had shattered. Without thinking, he punched the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his hand. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment he was feeling.

“Fuck you, Evelyn!” he screamed again, his voice echoing in the empty room. He punched the wall repeatedly, each blow a futile attempt to release the anger and hurt. His knuckles started to bleed, but he didn’t care. The physical pain was a distraction, a brief respite from the agony in his heart.

He finally sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, his breathing heavy and labored. His hand throbbed, the skin raw and bloody, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was Evelyn. How she had smiled at him, touched him, made him believe in something more. And then she had shattered it all.

He remembered the nights they had spent together, the way she had looked at him with those eyes that seemed to see right through his facade. He had let his guard down, let her into his heart , and she had torn him apart. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow.

Antonio’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble of memories and rage. He couldn’t understand why someone like Evelyn had done it. Hadn’t he been enough? The questions swirled in his mind, each one more painful than the last.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall, and let out a long, ragged breath. He knew one thing for sure: he would make her pay. He would find her and make her regret ever betraying him. The thought gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction, a dark promise that he clung to amidst the chaos in his mind.

As he sat there, the room around him a wreckage of broken glass and spilled whiskey, he made a vow to himself. Evelyn would suffer for what she had done. He would see to it personally. And once he had his revenge, maybe, just maybe, the pain would lessen. But until then, he would be consumed by the fire of his rage, a fire that Evelyn had ignited with her betrayal.

Antonio quickly looked at himself and noticed the mess he had become. His clothes were disheveled, and there were bloodstains on his knuckles from where he had punched the wall. His reflection in the mirror showed a man undone by rage and betrayal. He needed to regain control.

He stood up and walked to the bathroom, his steps unsteady. The bathroom was a sanctuary of sorts, pristine and orderly, a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. He turned on the shower, the sound of the water cascading down almost soothing. Steam began to fill the room as he undressed, peeling off his clothes and leaving them in a heap on the floor.

Antonio stepped under the hot spray, the water hitting his skin like a balm. He closed his eyes and let the heat seep into his muscles, easing the tension that had built up over the past few hours. He reached for the soap, a rich, fragrant bar that smelled of sandalwood and citrus, and began to lather it over his body. He scrubbed himself vigorously, as if he could wash away the all of the anger and frustration along with the grime.