"Morning, Mr. Serious," I say now, setting his usual cup on the table. I add two sugar packets because I can't help myself. He never uses them. He never even looks at them. But I like the idea of them sitting there, taunting him with sweetness. His eyes flick up to mine - stormy gray, the kind that make you feel like you're under interrogation for a crime you don't remember committing. "You should stop doing that." His voice is low, accented, like gravel dragged across velvet. Russian maybe? Or Italian. Or both. Either way, it does unholy things to my stomach. "Doing what?" I ask innocently, sliding the sugar closer to his hand. "That." His gaze drops to the packets. "I don't take sugar." I grin, all sunshine and sass. "You don't know that. Maybe one day you'll wake up and realize life's better with a little sweetness." ●・○・●・○・● Rafael Volkov doesn't do small talk. Or smiles. Or sugar in his coffee. As the mafia's underboss, he's built a reputation on silence, sharp suits, and an expression that could curdle milk. So of course, Lila Parker makes it her mission to crack him. The sunny diner waitress insists on slipping him extra sugar packets, calling him "Mr. Serious" behind the counter, and treating him like a normal guy instead of a walking red flag. He tells her to stop. She doesn't. He growls. She grins. And suddenly, his late-night coffee runs feel less like routine and more like... something he shouldn't want. The problem? In his world, affection is dangerous. Smiles get noticed. Weaknesses get used. And if Lila isn't careful, her little act of kindness might just paint a target on her back. Rafael swore he didn't have a sweet tooth. Turns out he was wrong. ●・○・●・○・● Word Count: 37,478

When an Atlanta dancer protecting her teenage sister crosses paths with a mysterious woman who seems to know far too much about her, their dangerous pull toward each other entangles them in a world of gang rivalries, buried pasts, and loyalty-shattering stakes. *** Mazi has always been the only thing holding her world together, working long nights at an Atlanta club and raising her rebellious little sister, Mac. But when Lee, a quiet stranger with unsettling knowledge about her life, steps into her VIP room, everything shifts. What begins as curiosity veers into something intense and irresistible, pulling them both into a storm of threats, gang tension, and past enemies. As tensions grow, Mazi battles the instinct to stand alone while Lee fights to prove she's more than the streets that shaped her. *** Adapted From: Studs Get It Wetter. She was just supposed to dance. Lee was just supposed to pay. But one touch turned obsession, and one kiss lit a war. Now the bodies are stacking, the streets are watching, and Mazi's learning the hard way... love can be just as deadly as loyalty. And in Atlanta? You don't get both. MUST READ.

after a prank gone terribly wrong, hayden jones is sent across country to caldwell academy, a school for the bitchy, the dangerous and the rebellious. and if that wasn't bad enough, it becomes much worse when hayden is accidentally put in the male dormitory, landing her in a room with the school's notorious heartbreaker, chase everett. [not edited...like at all]

*COMPLETED* My head bowed in a heavy mannor, not in respect, but in trepidation. I discern his unwavering gaze over my ill silhouette. "Look at me." I opened my eyes, though it made no difference. Black is still black, all I am left with are my four senses. He will kill me if I don't look. He will kill me if I do. He will look into my sightless eyes and see my futile existence isn't worth living. He will kill me, and he will be doing the pack a justice by it. He growls a low, throaty snarl to warn me about disobeying an alpha. There will be consequences, we both know that. His lingering growls let me know he is not going to allow me to contravene his word. I steadily inch my head upwards, visibly shaking everywhere else. Maybe he won't notice my depthless eyes from across the gazebo. My life depends on it. "You're blind." ~ Monet was born into a particularly prestigious area of her wolf pack, to parents of extremely high standards. Her legacy is to become the packs next healer, but when she was born completely devoid of melanin, all her mated parents saw was a disappointment. Being born an albino wolf pup meant a lot for Monet, but it mostly meant her condition had taken her eyesight along with it. What happens when Monet meets the Alpha of a neighboring pack? Will he accept her for what she is? ~CONTENT WARNING~ This book contains depictions of physical abuse, foul language, and upsetting scenary. This book is in no way, shape, or form glorifying domestic abuse of a parent or partner. This book is intended for individuals who feel at odds with their self due to their uniqueness. It is meant to shine light on those who differ from the majority; conquering, and overcoming those who lessen them for what makes them special. ~ Word count at completion date: 33,915 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

on the official wattpad page's reading list for black stories📖📚 She escaped her past in stilettos. He brought her back in boots. Gianna Sinclair built a glamorous life in Los Angeles-designer clothes, celebrity clients, and a reputation that sparkled as bright as the Hollywood sign. But beneath the polish lies a past she buried long ago in Prairie View, Texas-a sleepy town filled with dusty roads, painful memories, and a little sister she left behind. When her grandmother passes, Gianna is forced to return home for the first time in years. There, Gini-hurt, angry, and grieving-greets her with sharp words and deeper wounds. One explosive argument later, Gianna storms off, intent on leaving Prairie View for good. But fate as other plans. Only one wrong turn lands herself stranded on the backroads of open fields. Where she meets Weston Reid. Rugged. Quiet. Cowboy to the bone. Weston isn't looking for trouble, but trouble sure looks good in designer heels and ruined curls. He saves her. She challenges him. And as Gianna's glamorous world crashes into his rugged one, sparks fly hotter than the Southern sun. But love in Prairie View isn't simple. There are secrets buried deeper than the Texas clay. And Gianna will have to decide if she's willing to trade fame and fashion... for a second chance, a hometown healing-and the kind of love that doesn't give a damn about headlines. WARNING: Erotica Content

We met when he was in jail. Or at least he met me. Ghost changed my life and I don't think I ever want to go back to what it was before. THIS IS A MAFIA LOVE STORY! We have drama, action, AND mind blowing smut ofc.

🌸 Introduction 1981. A time when a woman's silence was mistaken for obedience. And marriage was not always love but duty. Saanchi was married into a house where expectations spoke louder than affection. She was soft-spoken, gentle... and trying to survive in a world that had already decided who she should be. But Ravindra - her quiet, stoic husband - was nothing like the man she feared he'd be. He didn't speak much. But when he did... his words shattered walls. This is not a fairytale. This is a story of slow-burning trust, stolen glances, and a man who chose to stand with his wife, not above her. In an era where women were expected to adjust - he chose to understand. And that made all the difference.

Isabelle is a hard-working woman. She is a freelance photographer, and damn good at it, making a killing from photographing weddings. Her heart has been broken enough times that she has finally accepted that the only time she will see it again, is through her lens. Well... Until the best man at one of the most extravagant weddings she's worked smirks at her. He is like a walking wet dream and she can't keep her eyes off him when he's near...but he is far more than a handsome man, and when the ground shifts underneath her, she slowly realizes she's become entangled in a world so different from her own, and so dangerous, she isn't sure she'll ever get back out alive. Part of the Ammunition Series: a series of interconnected standalone stories. Can be read in any order! #1 in mobster, 16.09.21 🖤 [[ Word count: ~100 000 ]]

Book #1, Choices series *** "Is that what you need Ms C?" Michael said in his deep baritone, his eyes still on the screen. "Passion? Rough fucking against a wall? Or do you need something slow and desperate?" *** We all have choices to make in life. Some have more lasting consequences. Polly became a single mother at fourteen to her now eighteen year old daughter, Sloan. She dedicated her entire life to raising her to the extent of losing herself. But now that Sloan is in college, Polly is ready to start living. Michael is a twenty-three year old recent college graduate. He exclusively dates women much older than himself. He also has a laundry list of sexual appetites that would scare most inexperienced partners. With Michael as her new neighbor, Polly has some choices to make - or will she decide to hand over some of those choices to this persistent and overwhelming man? And what happens when another man, Mason, is added to the mix? Can they survive? **Mature content** Porn with a plot This book won't appeal to everyone. Many kinks are explored - some of which are risky and not recommended in real life (such as any breeding/ impregnating). Some kinks explored (at varying degrees): domination, breeding, primal, exhibition, breastfeeding, age gaps (younger man / older woman), threesome/ménage à trois, polyamory, degradation, praise, and a small nod to MDlb (although nothing is said specifically about that).

"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.