"Spread your legs for me." I climbed onto the mattress, heart pounding. I lay back and slowly opened my thighs, shutting my eyes tight because I knew how wet I was. The cool air hit my soaked panties, and I felt even more exposed. Andrea leaned down, hovering over me. Her lips pressed a small, almost gentle kiss to my neck. Then she whispered against my ear, breath warm, "I don't know what the fuck came over you tonight, Lalia, but don't ever do it again. Because there are repercussions, sweetheart." Her hands ran slowly down my thighs, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin. "These pretty thighs," she murmured. "Open your eyes, baby," she whispered. I opened my eyes, breathing hard. "Look at them. Look at what's between them. Look at your whole body. Do you see it?" I nodded. "They're mine," she said, voice low and possessive. "Every single limb. Every nerve. Every inch of your body is mine, Lalia. I don't want you to ever think they are not." ..... Lalia Bishop is tired of the pills, the white walls, and the careful way people talk to her like she's glass about to break. Diagnosed with borderline personality disorder after a suicide attempt, she's been in and out of psychiatric hospitals for years, cycling through therapists who either pity her, fear her, or grow frustrated with her unpredictability. None of them lasted until Dr. Andrea Cross.

Fleur arrived at Hogwarts with the thought of winning the Triwizard Tournament as the best Witch in Beauxbatons, and as a Veela, she knew her own worth and she would win the Tournament, so what happens when a wizard named Harry Potter from Ravenclaw becomes her biggest rival? Her biggest obstacle to winning the Tournament? And maybe something more? (Enemies to Lovers) (Harry/Fleur Only)

The club wasn't where she imagined herself working, but it was the only place that would take her. The air was thick with smoke, and the neon lights did little to chase away the darkness inside. People came and went-some looking for trouble, others caught in things they shouldn't have been. She'd seen men dragged into the back rooms, beaten up for not paying in time or failing to do their part. And then there was her-the club owner. Cold, calculated, and feared by everyone who walked through the doors. She ran this place with a tight grip, and she didn't tolerate mistakes. No one dared to cross her, not without consequences. And yet, every time their eyes met, something shifted, an unsettling pull that she couldn't quite explain. She didn't know what it meant, or why it unsettled her so much. But one thing was certain: the longer she stayed here, the more complicated everything would become...

Shay has learned how to disappear in plain sight. She moves through her days quietly-head down, emotions locked away, body trained to endure more than it should. Control is survival. Distance is safety. And no one ever looks close enough to see what she's learned to hide. Until someone does. Lilith Armstrong is everything Shay isn't allowed to want: composed, authoritative, untouchable. A woman who understands the body down to its smallest fracture-and sees far too much when she looks at Shay. What begins as instruction slowly becomes attention. What feels like guidance sharpens into something heavier, more dangerous, and impossible to ignore. Between the anatomy of the human body and the anatomy of restraint, lines blur. Power shifts. Desire festers in the quiet moments where it shouldn't exist. And Shay must decide whether being seen is worth the risk of being undone. Anatomy of Restraint is a dark, slow-burn psychological romance about control, obsession, and the intoxicating danger of crossing boundaries that were never meant to bend.

"I do have something in mind, actually." The words were certain and very clear. Celine leaned back against the couch, her smirk softening into something darker, quieter. "Well then," She said, voice smooth enough to make my spine tingle, "Come show me." My breath caught before I could even think. The room seemed to hum around us-the low buzz of the liquor, the faint rustle of the robe against my skin, her eyes following me as she'd already decided what was going to happen next. Something in my chest fluttered-or maybe it flipped. The words weren't loud, but they pulled at me anyway like a command wrapped in velvet. I hesitated, barely. Then the hesitation melted away, the same way the liquor did earlier. My body moved before my mind caught up, slow and deliberate 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, drawn to her like gravity wasn't a choice. 𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓 Monét was never one to follow rules, that word seemed unknown to her knowledge. Monét was a troublemaker, it ran in her blood-well half of her blood. Her father being the chief of the police, the rule follower, yet he made an exception for his daughter always running to her rescue when needed. Monét was also the type to get what she wants, so when she sees this older lawyer-you can guess what she wants. And she intends to get it, stopping at nothing. She wouldn't let anything stop her, not age, not her issues, not her father, not a judge. Nothing would stop her from getting what she wanted.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 was never supposed to be chosen. Yet, out of sixty thousand models, she was. Now under the control of StarCorp's cold and untouchable founder, 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐬𝐬, Ella finds herself pulled into a world of luxury, lust, and the impossible standards of fame. But Taylor plays a slow game. And Ella? She's determined to prove she's not as easy to break as the girls before her. [DISCLAIMER: The intended audience for this book is 18+.] © Tear Me Down may not be reproduced, copied, reposted or translated in any way unless explicit permission is given directly from the author.

When Priscilla walks into Sloane's office, she's just another patient-guarded, broken, slow to trust. Sloane, a dominant and calculating therapist, is used to control. She knows how to push, how to read people, how to get what she wants. But Priscilla is different. What begins as therapy twists into something deeper-an electric pull neither of them can ignore. Sloane tells herself it's about healing, but her control is precise, obsessive... seductive. And Priscilla, under Sloane's careful influence, begins to lose sight of where her pain ends and Sloane begins. Because Sloane isn't just hiding secrets. She's using them. And the most dangerous thing about her is how far she'll go to keep Priscilla close. [ wlw romance between a therapist and her patient. Hold on tight, this a messy-dark romance ]

"The past can't be changed... until it can. This time, Harry Potter won't let her die." In the final moments of the war, Harry Potter walks to his death-only to awaken in King's Cross and face the truth he was never meant to see. There, he meets Cassiopeia Black, the girl who once loved him unconditionally... and whom he had pushed away. When the red thread of fate between them snaps, Harry returns to finish the battle and discovers a web of betrayal, manipulation, and the heartbreaking cost of his ignorance. Grief-stricken and alone, Harry chooses death once more-only to be given a second chance. This time, he'll rewrite fate. This time, he'll save her.

Stephanie Walker is eighteen, moving across the country from Los Angeles to New York to begin her dream: law school at NYU. A new city, a new home, new friends, new everything. She's excited, but sleepless nights, old wounds, and quiet struggles follow her everywhere. She wants to live like any other college student, to blend in, to feel normal, but life hasn't been simple, and surviving on her own is harder than she expected. Every late night, every study session, every solitary drive home reminds her that life doesn't come with easy answers. Some nights, she leans on quiet habits she'd never tell anyone about, just to make it to morning. Elena Shay is thirty-two, NYU's Dean and a respected law professor. Her life is built on control, precision, and endless responsibility. At work, she's commanding, elegant, untouchable. Outside it, she's soft, warm, and human, but never careless. Elena doesn't date casually; she doesn't waste time or energy on anything that isn't worth it. She's deliberate, certain, and careful... Until Stephanie. Stephanie isn't just another student. She's sharp, captivating, and unafraid to be herself in a way that draws Elena in deeper than it should. Suddenly, the carefully maintained line between professional and personal life begins to blur. The rules, the expectations, the life Elena's worked so hard to control all scream that nothing between them can ever happen. And yet, the pull becomes impossible to ignore. As their worlds collide, Stephanie discovers a side of life she's never dared to touch: warmth, comfort, attention, and desire from someone who sees her fully, not as a girl with a "rough" childhood, but as a woman. Together, Elena and Stephanie fall into chaos, vulnerability, and longing they didn't know they were missing. Every glance, every touch, and every moment carries risk. Risk of exposure, of judgment, of everything crashing down, all shaped by the choices resting in their hands.

Ivy Williams didn't come to Heartfelt University for drama. She came to pass her classes, chain-smoke her way through the stress, and stay out of trouble. Then she met Professor Sinclair. Cold, condescending, and infuriatingly attractive, Sinclair seems to have made it her mission to ruin Ivy's life one lecture at a time. But Ivy gives as good as she gets-and the more they clash, the more the tension starts to twist into something else. Something neither of them is ready for but both of them want far too badly. Sharp words turn into slow glances. Power plays turn personal. And soon, the only thing more dangerous than their rivalry... is what might happen if it stops. [wlw]