"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.

***18+ MATURE CONTENT INVOLVED INCLUDING SEX AND VIOLENCE*** "You're always fucking begging." His tone was almost mocking and his grip was getting slightly tighter. "Doesn't take much does it?" I was caught off guard by his change in dynamic but it turned me on at the same time. My breath hitched, my fingers tightening slightly against his arm. "I-" I faltered, heat rushing to my face. "I'm not-" "Don't argue with me," Toni growled. My mouth closed instantly and Toni softened his grip on my throat only a little. "Tell me what you want," Toni said. My voice shook slightly. "I want you." "Not good enough." There was a pause before I finally spoke. "I want you...to fuck me." Toni's expression shifted to a satisfied one. His thumb brushed lightly against my throat, holding me there. "Needy little thing," he added under his breath. 💋

I looked up to see mrs Harrison staring with an annoyed face "Get in the car already or do you want me to put you in like a little princess" She barked. "No ma'am sorry ma'am" ........................................................... Natasha a 23 year old maid who just wants to make a living for herself unintentional catches the eye of a tier one billionaires wife What happens when the two world colides

TW: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, MANIPULATION THROUGH RELIGION Eden never believed in saints, but Father Callum Devereaux makes sin look holy. Fresh off a breakdown and back in her childhood home, she only wants quiet. Instead, she attracts the full attention of the parish's dangerously captivating new priest who seems far more interested in Eden than in saving souls. The collar says he's forbidden. The look in his eyes says she's already his.

❝Fucking hell, Angel. Please, continue riding me like this. It feels so good. Please❞ he moans to me, letting his mouth open wide to show his own pleasure. I won't stop. I lean over his body and let my palm press onto his mouth, letting my four fingers grab one side of his face as my thumb grabs the other. I can never get tired of him talking no matter the occasion, but right now, this will go exactly as I want. "I don't remember giving you permission to talk, or touch my breasts." He exhales his pleasure as he pulls his hands beside his head submissively. His lips move, and his voice begins to rumble against my hand. I pull it away for a moment. "P-please. I love them." he moans. I raise an eyebrow, slowing down the movement of my hips to torture him. "What do you love?" I ask him, teasing the words out of him. It's no secret, but I'd rather him broadcast it on his shirt than only tell me once. I keep myself steady, not wanting to reach another orgasm myself. "Your breasts." he admits. "You love...?" I ask. "You." He moans, telling me what I want to hear. → Having to deal with the trauma of losing a parent, the Inferno goes about life taking what he pleases and not caring for the feelings of others. When secrets are revealed, so is his true self. His persona is at stake when he indulges in a forbidden romance with someone he's known to be family all of his life. The inferno. Lucifer on Earth. #1 Manxwoman #2 Forbiddenromance #2 Blackwoman #2 Slowbuild

Amara Avery thought she used up all her luck when she won VIP tickets to Lollapalooza Mumbai. It was supposed to be the ultimate escape: three days of music, luxury, and forgetting about life back in Macon, Georgia. She didn't expect Rudra Singh Rajvansh. And she definitely didn't expect the untouchable Crown Prince to ruin her favorite sneakers in the VIP lounge, look her dead in the eye, and refuse to apologize. In a crowd of thousands, his dark, calculating gaze signaled one thing: she was already trapped. Rudra isn't a fairytale prince. He is a beautiful, terrifying predator in a bespoke suit who rules the city's underworld with an iron fist. He doesn't ask for permission he takes. And the moment he crossed her path, he decided he was going to own the sovereign Black queen who dared to look back at him without blinking. The festival ends. The bags are packed. But when Amara hands over her passport at the gate, her entire world drops. Flagged. Grounded. Blacklisted by order of the Crown. He claims the world is too dangerous for her to roam free. But as his shadow closes in, Amara realizes the most lethal thing in India is the monster holding her captive. "You didn't lose your slipper, Amara. I stepped on it so you couldn't run."

🔞⚠️ *** "Confess! Confess how much you get wet when I look at you while I'm on that podium, how your nipples harden sharply beneath your clothes, and how your skin blazes with heat every time my eyes lock onto yours." His words didn't merely reveal a secret; they ripped through me, sinking deep into my flesh and igniting a slow-burning fire beneath my skin. The warmth spread like wildfire, searing every nerve ending. His words tasted like sin-heavy, forbidden, intoxicating. His hands curved possessively around my waist, pulling me into the dangerous gravity of his presence, his breath whispering dark promises hot against the back of my neck. So close, so raw-his body pressed against mine spun a web of wicked temptation that made my knees weak and my thoughts slip free. I wanted to fall, to lose myself completely in this sin that we were weaving between us, hungry and unrepentant. Our love was a shadow creeping over sacred ground, forbidden as the fruit God guarded fiercely. Like Adam and Eve before us, we stood trembling on the edge of damnation, reaching for that tantalizing knowledge we were told to avoid. But this time, it wasn't Eve who tasted the fruit first -it was Adam. And Father Lazarus didn't just nibble quietly; no, he devoured the entire apple in one reckless, desperate bite, swallowing sin whole without pause. ******

Blind to his relentless gaze, Ciauna moves through her day, unaware of the noose tightening around her. It only took one glance-just one-for Obeye to decide she would be his. From that moment, he watched from the shadows, his patience unnervingly steady, biding his time and savoring the anticipation before he struck. By the time Ciauna feels the shift in the air, a chilling prickle at the back of her neck, it's far too late. He has her now, ensnared in his grip, forced to bend to his every dark whim-no escape, no turning back. But the worst part? A small, unyielding part of her doesn't want to resist him at all. ________________ As I reached the edge of his desk, his hands gripped my hips, the sudden contact making me gasp. His touch was firm, almost painful, as he spun me around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. "Look out there," he said, his breath hot against my ear. "See all of that?" I nodded, my eyes blurring with unshed tears as I took in the twinkling lights of the cityscape. "That's your world," he whispered, his grip tightening. "And I control it. Now, bend over the desk." 📚 Now Available on Amazon This story is officially published. You can now read the full, edited version on Amazon Kindle. (Link in bio)

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