Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 183

ROSE’S POV

I sat cross-legged on the big bed in our bedroom back in the werewolf territory, the laptop balanced on my thighs.

The house was quiet except for the soft rustle of Damien moving around in the walk-in closet.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long minute before I finally typed the letters.

BDSM.

Enter.

The screen filled with results, and my face went up in flames instantly.

Pictures. Articles. Videos. Words I’d never seen before-words like “submissive, “dominant,” “flogging,”” bondage,” impact play.” There were lists of toys: cuffs, paddles, ropes, plugs. Descriptions of scenes that made my heart race and my stomach flip all at once.

Oh goddess.

What had I gotten myself into?

I scrolled too fast, eyes wide, heat crawling up my neck and into my cheeks. Some of it looked… intense. Really intense. Painful. Scary. But other parts-descriptions of trust, surrender, pleasure so deep it broke you open-made something low in my belly twist in a way that wasn’t fear at all.

Still

Did I really say yes to this? Could I actually handle it?

I didn’t even know what kind Damien liked. Spanking was one thing-he’d done that, and I’d loved it-but what if he wanted more? What if he wanted things that would leave marks? Things that would make me cry?

My breath came shorter. I clicked on a beginner’s guide, then quickly clicked away when the images got too graphic.

1 was so lost in the screen that I didn’t hear him until his

– voice came from the closet doorway.

“Baby, help me pick.”

I slammed the laptop shut so fast it almost fell off my lap.

My heart jumped into my throat. I shoved a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to look normal even though my face felt like it was on fire.

Damien leaned against the doorframe, shirtless, low-slung gray sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips.

God, the man was unfair. Every muscle in his chest and abs stood out in the sunlight, that perfect V disappearing under the waistband. His dark hair was messy from running his hands through it, and those sharp blue eyes were fixed on me with a lazy, knowing look.

He raised one brow. “Why do you look so flustered?”I shook my head too quickly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

His mouth curved into a slow, sexy smirk that told me he didn’t betieve me for a second. But he let it go-for now.

He walked toward me slowly, eyes roaming over every inch of me like he was memorizing it.

“You look perfect,” he murmured, stopping right in front of me. One hand slid to my waist, pulling me close. His thumb traced slow circles over the fabric. “Every male at that ball is going to wish he was me tonight.”

I bit my lip, warmth spreading through me. “And every female is going to wish she was me.”

His eyes darkened, that possessive spark | loved flashing in them. He leaned down, lips brushing my ear. “Good. Let them wish.”

He kissed the spot just below my ear…soft, teasing…then pulled back with a wicked little smile.

“One more thing is missing.”raised my brows. “What?”

He walked to the bedside drawer, opened it, and pulled out a small red box tied with a black ribbon. My heart gave a funny little flip.

He came back to me, eyes locked on mine, and held it out.

“What’s that?” I asked, voice softer now.

“You’ll see.”

He untied the ribbon slowly, deliberately, drawing it out until my pulse was racing. Then he lifted the lid.

My breath hitched.