Jenifer Martin, a girl from California. A girl with a beautiful and the kindest heart. She has a superb business degree. But alas, sometimes bad things happen to good people. Her boyfriend of three years cheated on her with her only best friend since childhood. Damian Wilson, CEO of Wilson Clothing. He is handsome, he is super intelligent for the business world. Lives in New York City. He believes in love, but haven't found yet. He has one night stands just for his distraction though. A girl from California and guy from New York. How these two will meet? Maybe she will work for him or maybe not? Stay tuned to find out more about these two souls! Love, Anushka💛 Ranks:- #45 in nyc out of 1.56k stories. #4 in romance out of 1.95k stories PS- Current cover made by @_navyblueee_ Date:26/03/22

Cléo is in her junior year of college. She's sworn of love because she never truly saw it in a positive aspect. It's summertime, and Cléo is ready to party and have fun, but maybe something else is in store for her. Roman was born a lover boy. He grew up in a loving family who adored him and was always encouraged to show his love, but after countless heartbreaks, Roman decides to shelter himself from any feelings of love. Fate brought these two together or maybe pure coincidence ?

i'll always be there. with open arms, open legs, and... © WICKSUZI 2024

"let me tell you something, darling. you've unlocked a side of me, even I fear. but since you want to keep me up all night, challenging me, he's gonna show up at some point." Mateo whispers, huskily into my ear, gripping my neck. "what are you talking about?" I whisper. "like how I show no mercy when killing someone. I can also show no mercy in bed. you're not sensitive, so you should be able to take the degrading. right, Tesoro?" he asks, i nod. "you know it's not true though. you know I love and cherish you, beautiful," he says slowly. "right?" "mhm." I nod. Mateo slowly starts speeding up his thumb, on my clit. "right. now I know, my Tesoro isn't so vanilla and innocent. So tell me, love. do you have any kinks?" the question catches me off guard. do I? "ya," I mumble. "I want you to list them," he whispers, I can hear the smirk on his face. "bondage, CNC- shit- dirty talk, uh-um, choking, degrading, stimulation. fuck i can't think," I mumble. "you've said my favourites, but have you ever heard of darcyphilia?" he asks, slowly entering his finger again. "n-no." I stutter. "well, I want to fuck you, overstimulate you, edge you, until you're in tears, chanting your safe word." _________________________________ ⚠️ I WON'T CONSIDER THIS BDSM, BUT IT DOES CONTAIN HEAVY SMUT⚠️ ⚠️ THIS BOOK DOES NOT PROMOTE TEEN PREGNANCY⚠️ ⚠️EVERYTHING OTHER THEN THE MAFIA CULTURE AND RACIAL CULTURES ARE FICTION⚠️ ⚠️ THIS BOOK IS CONSIDERED 18+ BUT IF YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE IT... I AIN'T YOUR PARENT. BUT DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU⚠️ ⚠️YES THE GIRL IS ON BIRTH CONTROL FROM THE GET-GO⚠️

A love as sweet as a Frank Ocean song. Now Playing: Frank Ocean - Dear April

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it a memory... You know you're in love when you can say anything to the person and you know they won't laugh at you. When you can see their face when you close your eyes. When you can still feel their arms around you holding you tight after they're gone. When you can still taste their kiss after you have said goodbye. You can tell you're in love when you miss them before they're gone. When their voice lingers in your ears. When their presence eases any pain. When their name sends chills down your spin. When they're the only thing you can think about. You know you're in love when you can see all their hopes and dreams and their soul when you look into their eyes. When they call you at four in the morning to say, "I Love You" and mean it. When your tears stain not only their shirt, but also their heart. When even a simple chore done with them can become a lasting memory. Ultimately, you know you're in love when you can't imagine living without them and can't figure how did you live before you knew them. When they fulfill every need and without them you're incomplete. The love of someone else completes the heart, and sound and mind all at once. 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎-𝐟𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟎, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏