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Bitter Bargain BL R18


I- The Contract



The morning sky was a heavy blanket of grey, rain drumming a steady rhythm against the windows of the penthouse.


Adrian Hartley, a young man with tousled dark hair and piercing blue eyes, lay prone on the silk sheets, his arms tied behind his back.


Each breath was a struggle, his chest heaving against the firm mattress, while the bindings cut into his wrists.


Elliot Kane, the penthouse's domineering owner, loomed over him, his grip like iron.


With each thrust, Elliot's nails dug into Adrian's skin. Adrian's moans were swallowed by the plush bedding. There was a sound of pain and reluctant pleasure coursing through his body.


Elliot's movements were unyielding, his focus solely on satisfying his carnal desire. The scent of sweat and the musk of their bodies and the unspoken tension between them is evident.


Another thrust and the dam within Elliot finally broke. His juice flowed inside Adrian’s hole and he shoved Adrian away. He left him sprawled across the bed like discarded refuse.


Adrian's world tilted as he was unceremoniously pushed off the bed. He landed with a dull thud on the cold, marble floor.


His vision blurred momentarily, and he could only just catch his breath. He remained still, muscles trembling, the sting of the impact reverberating through his bones. He didn't expect kindness from Elliot; it was not part of their contract.


Elliot, ever indifferent, walked away, the sound of his footsteps receding into the adjoining bathroom.


The hiss of the shower followed.


Blindfolded and bound, Adrian lay motionless on the floor, the chill of the marble biting into his skin.


Adrian gritted his teeth as he struggled against the rope on his wrists. In this penthouse prison, showing weakness was pointless. He was no stranger to this treatment, yet each time it chipped away a little more of his resolve.


This wasn't a life he had chosen lightly.


Elliot Kane had lured Adrian into a contract born out of necessity. The promise of financial security for his family had been too alluring to refuse, even if it meant enduring Elliot's sadistic needs.


In the shadows of Elliot's empire, Adrian was little more than a plaything. He was a puppet bound by invisible strings. His role was clear: to satisfy the dominant man's dark desires, no questions asked, no emotions spared.


Elliot's hatred for weakness extended to his partners, his control must be absolute.

As the water continued to run in the bathroom, Adrian attempted to shift, the tight bindings cutting into his skin.


He was tired, every muscle aching from the rough encounter. The servant would come soon, as they always did, to untie him. Until then, he could do nothing but wait.


The sound of the shower stopped abruptly. Adrian's heart quickened. He anticipated the routine that would follow. Elliot would emerge, as pristine as ever, leaving Adrian to pick up the pieces of his dignity.


Moments later, the door creaked open, and the sharp click of footsteps echoed in the room. It wasn't Elliot. The servant, a young man with a look of perpetual boredom, approached and roughly untied Adrian's hands.


"Disgusting," the servant muttered.


With a quick motion, the blindfold was removed, flooding Adrian's eyes with the dim light of the room. The servant didn't wait for gratitude or a response; he simply turned and left, leaving Adrian to his solitude.


Adrian slowly sat up, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. The room was empty, save for the remnants of their earlier encounter scattered across the floor.


He pulled himself up, and gingerly made his way to the bathroom.


The mirror reflected a sight he was all too familiar with: a young man with shadows under his eyes, bruises marring his pale skin, and a resigned look etched into his features.


He washed quickly before retreating back to the bedroom.


Elliot's scent lingered in the air. Adrian climbed into the bed and curled up.


Finally, the rain had ceased, leaving the city enveloped in a damp, misty stillness.


Adrian Hartley sat at the edge of the enormous bed, staring out at the sprawling metropolis below.


It had been nearly six years since he had first entered this penthouse.


The room, though lavish, had never felt like his own. It was filled with cold, contemporary furniture and impersonal decor that mirrored the man who owned it. Adrian ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair.


"Tyler," he whispered the name of his brother into the empty room. "I'm struggling so much without you..."


His voice cracked as he spoke to the brother he had lost in a tragic accident years ago.


The penthouse was a silent witness to his one-sided conversations. If only he had spent more time with Tyler, cherished their moments together instead of chasing the next dream or ambition. Regret was a relentless companion that came too late to alter the past.


Adrian’s role in this contract with Elliot Kane was nothing short of humiliating.


In the world outside, alphas were the epitome of genetic superiority, and yet, here he was, an omega reduced to a mere tool for pheromone release.


Society revered omegas for their rare and coveted genetics, but in Elliot's eyes, Adrian was just a means to an end.


Elliot's disdain for omegas was notorious. Despite his need for Adrian's presence to quell the carnal needs of his alpha nature, he treated him with a detached cruelty that left Adrian feeling hollow and used.


The money from this arrangement had saved his family, but it had cost him his dignity and his freedom.


Adrian's childhood was a far cry from the luxury he found himself in now. His distinctly exotic features had marked him as different from a young age, leading to years in a series of foster homes.


Born to a mother of unknown origin and abandoned shortly after, he had been passed over for adoption until he was ten, his dark hair and striking eyes an unusual sight in the Midwest.


It wasn’t until the Millers, long-time volunteers at the orphanage, decided to take him in that Adrian experienced the warmth of a family. They had named him Adrian, a name they chose with care after researching his possible heritage. Though it turned out to be a mix of cultural influences rather than a precise linguistic match, it held a special place in his heart.




At the time, Adrian hadn't thought much about the meaning behind his name. He had been too overwhelmed by the joy of finally belonging somewhere. The Millers had given him everything he had longed for: a place to call home, parents who loved him, and an older brother, Tyler, who he had adored.


But that happiness was shattered on a fateful night when a drunk driver had crashed into their car. Tyler had died instantly, protecting Adrian with his own body, while their parents had slipped into comas from which they never awoke.


The doctors held out little hope, and Adrian was left to face the world alone, struggling to pay for their care.


"Tyler, I'm really having a hard time..." he whispered again,


Exhaustion eventually claimed him, and he drifted into a fitful sleep.




Morning arrived with the first light filtering through the rain-slicked windows. Adrian woke with a start, his body aching from the previous night's encounter.


Elliot had been particularly harsh, driven by the need to expel his pheromones before an upcoming business trip.


Adrian knew the signs all too well; Elliot's rut period was approaching, a time when his dominance turned almost savage.


"Ugh..." Adrian groaned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His wrists, chafed from the bindings, were bruised and tender. Every movement sent jolts of pain through his body.


Elliot demanded perfection. Adrian was to be in peak health at all times, ready to fulfill his role whenever Elliot required it. There was no room for weakness or delay.


The contract had been explicit about that, ensuring Adrian's availability to cater to Elliot's demanding schedule.


"Just get through today," he muttered to himself.


Adrian winced as he stood, his legs still shaky from the previous night's rough treatment. He had to recover quickly, both for his own sake and to avoid any additional ire from Elliot.


This weekend, he was determined to visit his parents in the hospital. Their condition had not changed in years, but the visits were his only solace.


"Hang in there," he whispered to his reflection in the mirror. The man staring back at him looked haggard, shadows under his eyes and a look of resigned determination etched into his features. "Just a little longer."


The contract allowed for these visitst. The financial security provided by Elliot ensured that his parents received the best possible care, their medical bills paid without question. It was the one silver lining in an otherwise bleak existence.

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