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I was just supposed to survive Hell-not crave the succubus holding my leash.
I grew up on the streets, where survival meant keeping your head down and your feelings buried deep. I didn't have the luxury of wanting anything-not food, not safety, and definitely not love. Then I got dragged to Hell. Turns out, I was a Cambion-half-demon, half-human, and useful enough that someone decided I needed "training." I thought I was holding my own pretty well... until she showed up. Naamah. A succubus with curly hair, too much attitude, and a tail that never stopped getting in my damn business. She was supposed to seduce me. Distract me. Hell, maybe even break me. And yeah, maybe she did-just not the way either of us expected. Because I can't stop thinking about her. About that sharp tongue. That smirk. The way she calls me pet like she owns me-and the sick part is, some piece of me likes it. Wants more of it-of her. We spent months chained together, her holding the leash, me pretending I wasn't already halfway tamed. Now, we're free to walk away. That's what we both wanted... Right?Thanks for subscribing!
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