"I hate how much I need you, Niyah..." From just enemies, to enemies with benefits, to lovers. I hate how much I want him. But I can't escape him. Why? Because we're lawfully locked. An office romance between rival lawyers who try to fight the tension between them until they finally give in. "You say you hate me but you fuck me the same day." *a lot of smut included*

Ava Sinclair is desperate. Her father's rare illness is bankrupting her, and time is running out. In a last-ditch move, she joins Velvet Circle-an elite underground agency where powerful men pay fortunes for one night of total control. Xavier Blackwood doesn't do love. He's a billionaire who treats women like transactions: hot, hard, gone by morning. No strings. No repeats. Until Ava steps into his world. One contract. Fifty thousand dollars every time he calls. No feelings. No questions. Just her body on demand. But obsession creeps in fast. His hands can't get enough of her curves. Her moans start sounding like surrender. And the money can't drown out the truth they're both avoiding: What happens when "just sex" becomes something neither can walk away from? A raw, steamy, addictive billionaire romance packed with dominance, possession, and heat that burns everything down.

❝There is no sinner like a young saint.❞ ||MATURE CONTENT|| In which a girl sets her eyes on a forbidden man. COMPLETED. All rights reserved. kingkatewrites 2023. cover by alluringathena

I dragged my nails lightly over his chest, slow, my eyes locked on his. "You told me I was in control, remember?" My voice dipped lower, sultry, daring. I leaned close enough that my lips brushed his ear. "Then say it, baby. Say you're my bitch." A dark laugh rumbled from his lips, low and sinful, the kind that made my stomach flip. His eyes didn't waver, didn't blink. "I'm your bitch," he said...calm, but hot as fuck. The words rolled off his tongue like he'd been waiting to say them, and God, the way he said it almost made me melt right there.

When junior auditor Anara Ellison pulls a stranger out of a Paris mess with nothing but nerve and an eyelash curler, she doesn't expect him to follow the proof back to New York. Archer Montclaire-an architect with clean lines and shadowed edges-shows up with a new coat, a steady hand, and a mouth that turns common sense into smoke. What starts as a debt becomes a slow-burn collision: lunch dates that feel like confessions, late-night arguments that end in honesty, friends who meddle, flowers "just because," and two people learning how to build something sturdy out of heat and trust. He opens every door; she draws every boundary; together they find a rhythm that's equal parts filthy and tender. This is a love story about precision and chaos, receipts and choosing each other-on purpose, every time.

"Soren, P-Please," I begged, my hand clasping around his wrist, desperate for him to thrust his finger inside me. "I love it when you beg, Amore. But we're running late." He stopped, and I definitely wanted to strangle him for making me frustrated. "I hate you," I groaned. He spun me around and placed one hand on the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. "No, you don't," he mumbled against my lips. He pulled away from the kiss, with a small peck on my forehead, and a light smack on my ass. "Did you strap on your holster?" He asked. ♡♡♡♡ Aurora Daniels, a young exhibition coordinator finding her footing in a new country, runs into a man who had given her the best sex of her life in a one-night stand. Soren Bianchi, the ruthless leader of the Italian mafia, hasn't stopped thinking about her from the first night they spent together.

ABOUT: Arden Ashbourne is a college student with a secret - by day, she's the top of her engineering class. By night, she dances under neon lights to survive. Her world is sharp, hungry, and unforgiving. Elias Carrington is untouchable - a wealthy, quiet pre-law student who moves through life like nothing can touch him. Cold. Controlled. Until her. What begins as glances turns to gravity. He watches her like she's art. Touches her like prayer. Loves her like ruin. But love like this doesn't come clean. It's messy. Raw. Slow-burning and soul-consuming. She was never meant to be his salvation, but now he can't breathe without her. And when he has her - in his arms, on his face, wrapped around his heart - he doesn't hold back. This is not a story of perfection. This is a story of what it means to be wanted in your entirety - bruised, beautiful, and burning. Mature. Obsessive. Intoxicating. This is worship dressed as love. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ "You," he growled, backing me into the wall just inside the loft and pressing his body hard against mine, "are the hottest, smartest fucking girl I've ever met." I was giddy, breathless, already burning. "Elias-" "Who's my smart girl?" he whispered against my ear, his breath hot, his hands already sliding under my shirt. My entire body lit up. The compliment. The heat in his voice. The sheer ownership threaded into that question. "I am," I gasped. He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes blazing, jaw tight. "Say it again." "I'm your smart girl," I whispered, flushed and aching. "Damn right you are." He kissed me then-hard, hungry, lips claiming mine with heat that melted straight down my spine. My back hit the wall with a soft thud, but I didn't care. I couldn't think. I could barely breathe. His tongue slid into my mouth, and I moaned into the kiss, hips rocking against his without meaning to.

"Will it kill you to back the fuck up?" I snapped. "Yes, princess," he whispered sweetly against my ear, voice full of that sick affection. "It would. I would drop dead right here if I couldn't be next to you." "My lucky day," I muttered sarcastically.

I cupped her face, planting a soft kiss on her beautiful lips. "Don't ever run from me, baby," I said softly, letting my thumb trace her jaw. "I love the chase." Her jaw tightened, her hands coming up to try and move mine. "Stop calling me baby, Ezra," she snapped, eyes flashing. I couldn't help but grin, dropping my voice to something low and dark. "Ohhh, now my baby has a problem with me calling her baby?" She shot me a glare, but I just tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing another kiss to her lips-gentler this time, lingering. "You don't get to tell me what to call you, baby." I leaned in closer, brushing my nose against hers. "You're whatever the fuck I call you."

|EDITED| I should've left. I knew I should've turned the hell around. Shut the door. Pretended I didn't see a damn thing. But I didn't. I stood there, frozen. Mesmerized. Cursed. She let the towel fall away. My breath caught when her breasts spilled free-round, medium-sized, her nipples already stiff. She palmed them, moaning low in her throat, her hips shifting against her fingers. Her waist was so damn small, and those thighs... Fuck. Those thick thighs spread wide, holding nothing back. Her clit swollen, her moans growing louder, filling every inch of space in the house. And all I could think was I want to be the one making her sound like that. I wanted to drop to my knees. Slide my mouth up her thighs. Bury my face in that sweet pussy until she screamed my name. God, she was so beautiful, so uninhibited. So fucking close. Amina and Mason have been friends forever. But not even forever prepares them for this. They've shared everything-secrets, laughs, and late-night talks-but never touched the spark simmering just beneath the surface. So when they decide to explore their sexual chemistry under a strict set of rules, it's supposed to be simple. No drama. No emotions. Just heat. But rules don't stand a chance when the lines blur between friendship and something far more dangerous. Because once they cross that line... there's no going back This book was inspired by the song. (That Way by Tate McRae ) !!WARNING!! THIS BOOK CONTAINS A LOT OF DETAILED SEXUAL CONTENT|