ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴇ ɢᴀꜱᴘᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀᴛᴀʀᴀ'ꜱ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ʜᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀꜰ, ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴜɢɢɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʟᴇᴀꜱʜ. "ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʀᴜʟᴇ," ᴀᴛᴀʀᴀ ᴍᴜʀᴍᴜʀᴇᴅ, ʜᴇʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴇ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀɪɴᴛ ʙʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʟᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. "ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ." ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʀᴀᴍᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʀɪʙꜱ. "ʏ-ʏᴇꜱ, ᴍᴀ'ᴀᴍ," ꜱʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴍᴍᴇʀᴇᴅ. ᴀ ʜᴜᴍ ᴠɪʙʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴛᴀʀᴀ'ꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ, ʟᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇᴅ. ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ, ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ɢʀᴀꜱᴘ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ... ꜱʜᴇ ɪɴʜᴀʟᴇᴅ, ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ ꜱᴘɪʟʟɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀɪʙʙᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙʀᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ. ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴍᴇʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ. ʜᴇʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴛɪɢʜᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ʙʀɪᴇꜰʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀꜰ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴅʀᴇᴡ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. "ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ?" ᴀᴛᴀʀᴀ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ, ʜᴇʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛɪʟᴛɪɴɢ, ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏꜱɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴛʏ. ɪᴄᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴏᴅᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ᴠᴇɪɴꜱ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ꜰᴜᴄᴋ.

"𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐩," 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝. "𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐳𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧. 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝. "𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞." 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐳𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐮𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝. "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝.

BDSM 18+ "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢. 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘴. "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺." 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. "𝘐-𝘐..." "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬, "𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯?" 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬. Two obsessions. One girl.

Solène only wanted a fresh start in London, far from the shadows of her past. But when she stumbles into a hidden war raging beneath the city's surface, she realizes escape was never an option-and survival may come at a price she isn't ready to pay.

𝑻𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒚, 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆. Written By: Tzipora Rosen Edited By: Leah C Benton

"Who do you belong to?" Ezmeralda demanded, her tone sharp, the question more than just a claim-it was a command. "You-" Olivia groaned, struggling to finish the sentence as her body shook violently. "I belong to El Jefa," she sputtered out desperately, her pride dissolving in the heat of the moment. She no longer cared about holding onto any sense of self; the pleasure was too overwhelming, too good to resist. "Cum, pretty girl," Ezmeralda allowed with a satisfied smile, granting Olivia the release she so desperately craved. Olivia's birthday night takes an unexpected turn when she and her best friend, Phoebe, venture out in search of an authentic Cuban experience. Tired of the typical tourist spots, Olivia persuades a reluctant Phoebe to explore a local restaurant she remembered seeing from their taxi ride. Upon stumbling on something Olivia shouldn't have seen, the girls are thrust into a nightmare, held captive by Ezmeralda, who reveals her affiliation with the Cuban cartel. She gives them a chilling ultimatum: marry into the cartel or face certain death. Olivia, desperate to protect Phoebe, tries to negotiate, offering herself in exchange for her friend's freedom. However, Ezmeralda dismisses the compromise, making it clear that in the cartel, there are no negotiations - only orders and consequences. WARNING: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: DEATH OF A CHILD SMUT VIOLENCE USE OF SUBSTANCES this is a dark romance so please do not expect it to all sunshine and rainbows. all sexual scenes are consensual and legal. 🏆 #1 Cuba 🏆 #6 gxg

Tensions erupt after Olivia's impulsive mistake leaves an innocent man dead, forcing Ezmeralda to reassert control over her fracturing inner circle. As guilt and fear ripple through their group, new alliances are tested, secrets surface, and Miya learns the dangerous price of proximity to the cartel. In a world ruled by power and loyalty, Ezmeralda's unyielding grip ensures that no one escapes unscathed. Written By: Tzipora Rosen Edited By: Leah Catherine Benton 🏆 #3 wanted 🏆 #1 Cuba

Just as Annabeth's hands reached to grab the back of her jacket, Sonya pivoted smoothly, one arm coiling around Annabeth's waist like a whip. There was a sharp gasp-Annabeth's-and then her spine slammed against the edge of the bar, the breath knocked clean from her chest. Sonya's forearm pressed hard across her collarbone, pinning her in place with infuriating ease. "If you wanted my attention, sugar, all you had to do was ask," Sonya murmured, her voice sultry and rough, lips inches from Annabeth's. "Get off me," Annabeth snarled, squirming beneath her hold. Sonya arched a brow, leaning in even closer until her body molded against the younger woman's-thigh to thigh, hip to hip. "You're feistier than the girls next door," she whispered against the shell of Annabeth's ear, her breath hot. "Careful now, Anna. I've always had a thing for resistance." Annabeth jerked against her, face twisting in rage. "Let. Me. Go. You stink of whiskey and whores," she spat, kicking against Sonya's shin. Sonya didn't flinch. "Say please," she drawled, her voice silk and steel, utterly unbothered. "Manners go a long way in this town." "Never," Annabeth hissed.

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 ]

Mariah Jade Grey is 21 years old, freshly graduated, and trying to figure out what comes next. She's stylish, sarcastic, and guarded- always has been. After losing more than she ever talks about, she's learned not to get too close. Love doesn't stay. People don't stay. So she keeps herself safe: with ambition, independence, and the quiet ache of something missing. Kyra Reyes is 30 years old, the kind of woman with a camera in one hand and someone new on her arm- easy, unattached, free. Nothing ever sticks: not the girls she leaves tangled in her sheets, not the art that never quite feels finished, not the whispers about her being a player. But when it comes to Mariah, everything sticks. Every glance. Every laugh. Every moment that isn't supposed to mean anything, but somehow means everything. As their best friends build new lives and the city around them quiets down, Mariah and Kyra find themselves circling each other, drawn together by late nights, unspoken truths, and the weight of everything they won't say out loud. It's there in the way Kyra looks at her. It's there in the way Mariah never quite lets her go. And when the silence finally breaks, it changes everything. What they have isn't just friendship. But it isn't love. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Almost. But is almost ever enough?