The dining room at the Rivera estate glowed with the warm flicker of crystal chandeliers, their light catching on polished silverware and casting long shadows across the long mahogany table laden with roasted meats and fine wines. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged oak and tension, as Marcus leaned forward, his voice dripping with mockery. "Look at you, Xaden, wheeled in here like some broken doll. Can't even stand for a proper toast—must be embarrassing for the family name." His brothers chuckled, their eyes flicking dismissively over Xaden's wheelchair, its sleek frame gleaming subtly under the lights with custom titanium accents that hinted at resources far beyond the modest family facade.

Elena Vargas sat beside her new husband, her fingers tightening around her glass as heat rose in her cheeks. At twenty-nine, she had entered this arranged marriage out of duty, but something in Xaden's quiet resilience already stirred her. She rose abruptly, her voice cutting through the laughter like a blade. "That's enough. Xaden's strength isn't measured by his legs—it's in how he endures your cruelty without sinking to your level. Mock him again, and you'll answer to me." Her words hung in the air, fierce and protective, drawing Xaden's gaze to hers. Their eyes locked, and a spark ignited between them—an electric pull that made her pulse quicken and his breath catch, the first flicker of something deeper amid the deception of his hidden empire.

Around them, the room seemed to fade as Xaden's hand brushed hers under the table, a subtle warmth that belied his secret wealth—the private jet schedules he juggled in his mind, the empire he commanded from shadows. Elena felt it too, an unexpected attraction blooming in the charged silence, her body leaning closer instinctively as the family's taunts dissolved into background noise.

The tension from the dining room followed them like a living thing, thick and electric, until they finally retreated to the privacy of their shared suite in the estate's east wing. Elena's heart hammered as she wheeled Xaden inside, the door clicking shut behind them, muting the distant echoes of Marcus's laughter. Her protective fire from earlier still burned, but now it mingled with something hotter, an ache low in her belly that made her skin flush as she turned to face him. Xaden's eyes, dark and intense, locked onto hers with a hunger that stole her breath; his hands, strong from years of navigating his world in silence, reached for her, pulling her down onto his lap in the wheelchair. The cool titanium frame pressed against her thighs as she straddled him, her dress riding up, and she gasped at the hard ridge of his cock straining against his trousers, pressing insistently against her dampening panties.

Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, tongues tangling as Elena rocked her hips, grinding her pussy against him through the fabric, feeling the heat and pulse of his arousal build with every movement. Xaden's fingers deftly unzipped her dress, exposing her breasts to the cool air, his thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened into peaks that he leaned forward to suckle, drawing a moan from deep in her throat. She freed his cock, wrapping her hand around its thick length, stroking from base to tip where a bead of precum glistened, then guided him to her entrance, sinking down slowly. The wheelchair creaked softly under their combined weight as she rode him, her pussy clenching around his shaft with each thrust, the angle allowing him to fill her deeply while his hands gripped her hips, guiding her faster. Sensory details flooded her: the slick slide of their bodies, the scent of sweat and arousal mingling with his cologne, the way his breath hitched against her neck as pleasure coiled tighter. In the throes of climax, Xaden nearly let slip a command about his private holdings—a fleeting reference to board decisions that he swallowed back, masking it as a groan of "Yes, just like that," preserving his secret even as his cock throbbed and spilled inside her.

Elena buried her face in his shoulder, waves of orgasm crashing through her as

Hidden Empire of Desire