SHE belongs to HIM

SHE belongs to HIM

TheFilthyDiaries

5.0
Comment(s)
905
View
28
Chapters

Her life changes when a handsome billionaire saves her from her step-brother trying to kiss her. She falls in love with him but he's keeping something from her. This is a forbidden love story that leads to a suspenseful end...

Chapter 1 001

The soft breeze blew gently against fiery silken tresses. The stirring of her long locks tickled her side and she moved, brushing at the disturbance without opening her eyes. She'd been lying out there for a while, enjoying the heat of the sun against her long limbs and the wonder of being stationary without having anyone harping at her.

The silence was almost a friend. Long lost and often sought, it shuddered through the clearing making her realize that the passing of time was as swift as the water rushing across the smooth pebbles in the brook. Rising seemed almost impossible, her limbs lethargic and heavy but she managed, leaning down to pick up her shawl. She used the well-worn piece of fabric to cover her head, hiding her pink cheeks and bright eyes.

"There you are!"

Kinlye glanced up, little moved by the harsh voice. She barely acknowledged the man until he grabbed her arm.

"Momma's been calling for you for over an hour." His voice was an angry growl, his hand rough against her skin, digging into her flesh with little care of how he hurt her. "Where have you been?"

"What business is it of yours?" Kinlye snapped, regretting her hasty words when his grip tightened even more.

"It is my business, especially if you were causing trouble again. Don't think Momma doesn't know of the way you flit back and forth between the grocer and the baker. I've seen the eyes you make at them, shameless and disgusting it is."

"I've never..." she began, only to be interrupted.

"Don't you even think of trying your lies out on me," he hissed. "I know what lies inside of you, what sins you will commit. I know of your plans."

Kinlye shrugged, pulling against his grip. When he got this wound up, it was almost impossible to calm him down. "Let me go." She stood her ground, not allowing herself to be dragged further.

"Slut. Harlot," he cursed softly, his eyes on the people passing around them now. "If you do not move on your own volition then I shall have to let the good people of the town know of your wickedness. Then they can help me move you."

"Why Daniel?" she cried suddenly, knowing he wasn't bluffing. "Why do you treat me with such disgust and hatred?

I'm your only sister."

"Look to yourself for the answer, Kinlye," Daniel growled, shaking her. "You look the part of town slattern; you open your thighs for any man who has the price. But not your brother, no, I'm not even allowed to look."

"I've ... I've never," she said, grabbing his arms to slow the shaking he was giving her. "I've never so much as kissed a man," she moaned.

"Lies," Daniel cried again. "I've heard the men speak of you, I've heard them tote on about their explicit affairs with you and how much you like it. Only a slut would allow herself to be passed around in such away.

"They lie!" Kinlye dug her feet in and refused to move an inch. "I've never lain with a man, Daniel. I wouldn't lie to you about that." She stared up and into her brother's expressive face, seeing the doubt there. "What will it take for you to believe me?"

Daniel smiled, his lips twitching as she said the exact words he'd been waiting to hear. He paused for just a moment before he lifted her bodily out of the way of the foot traffic around them and into a doorway that was quiet and semiprivate. "You can gift me with your veil of innocence," he said softly and in her ear. "Let me be the first and then I will know you're not the slut others have been calling you."

"B-but ... but you are my b-brother. It is a sin." Kinlye shook her head emphatically, her hands clasping each other and wringing under the cover of her shawl. "We would be damned."

"Who'll know besides the two of us? I don't plan to tell." Daniel twisted so that she was trapped between him and the door, his fingers pulling at her shawl. "Come on, Kinlye; prove your innocence to me. Make me believe."

"No, Daniel. Stop it!" Kinlye tried to make herself a piece of the wooden paneling behind her, slapping at Daniel's hands when he wouldn't leave her be. "What would Momma say?"

Daniel dug his hand in the heavy hair at the nape of her neck, holding her face still so that he could find her lips. "She would say that it was about time," he rasped. Then his mouth came down hard upon the softness of hers and she squealed in fright and pain even as she fought to turn her head away.

His lips were hard and wet. They seemed to encompass the lower half of her face, leaving it wet with his drool. His hand was torturous, grabbing a fist full of her hair and holding her still, yanking, even more, when his tongue pushed against her lips, trying to find a way inside.

Kinlye whimpered at the pain, her hands in fists pushing against his chest. But he seemed like a boulder, unmovable, impenetrable, and unwilling to hear her cries. His other hand ran down her body, pinching and probing at her flesh. He thrust that hand down the back of her skirt, his fingers moving over the softness of her buttocks even as she screamed again.

Continue Reading

Other books by TheFilthyDiaries

More

You'll also like

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer
5.0

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan
4.9

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison
5.0

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book