𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢. Book One in the Bittersweet Series. Created: 27/12/18 Published: 16/02/19 Completed: 03/01/20 Edited: As of March 2022 Completed rewrite: 25/01/23

𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘸𝘸𝘮 𝘴picy 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴. 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗇.

"Let me eat this pussy, ma." ♧👻♧

Aniyah Young, a student studying psychology and business. She's bold, snarky and fun. At the age of 21, Aniyah wants to indulge in her fantasies, though she has only had a few one-night stands and some shitty relationships, she's mostly had to finish the job herself. Matteo Morelli, a psychology professor. He studies the brain, and focuses on people's behaviours; he's very strong in some areas and extremely skilled in others. He's 33 with a lot of experience, having worked at the college for over 6 years, he's built a reputation for himself. Keeping his sex life on the low, his pleasure and business has and will always be separated... or so he thought? If you value your sanity or innocence, I suggest you don't open this book and give wattpad a rest. ;) THIRD PERSON NOT FULLY EDITED* Teacherxstudent relationship. One is fun, the other is serious. Can they work out?

"You belong right here, Elysia. Not in New York with Julian, or out somewhere in the city galavanting around with Andrew, or anywhere near Canelley," He mumbled against a fresh mark on the base of my neck. "Right here, nowhere else." For two years Elysia Leal and Salvatore Grant's relationship had been strictly professional. She ran his errands and he ran his business. That is, until, a situation at work puts them in an awkward position causing the lines in their relationship to blur and feelings to ensue.

Stalker romance Book two out now. 1 in toxic 6/21/25 1 in dark romance 5/19/25 1 in disturbing 8/18/25 1 in big age gap 7/1/25 1 in physiological 7/27/25 The argument didn't escalate. Liam doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. When he's angry, the room gets smaller. The oxygen vanishes. Your own heartbeat betrays you. And when he left the room, slamming the heavy door behind him, I stood there for hours, unmoving. Not because I didn't want to move-but because I didn't know if I was allowed to. That night, he didn't sleep beside me. And I unraveled. I went through three different outfits. I brushed my hair seventy times. I practiced walking with books on my head like Rosa used to force me to. I whispered apologies into the dark, unsure if he could hear me. But he must have. Because in the morning, he was in the kitchen, making coffee like nothing happened. And when I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his back, he sighed and said, "There's my good girl." CURRENTLY WRITING BOOK 2

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.

+18 When Leonardo Ford takes over his father's Company He doesn't just take over the Business. but also her...and everything, she's touched, breathed, smelt or tasted. Anything can happen In The Office.... WARNING: This story contains dark themes, degrading, obsession, NASTY sexual scenes, Reader discretion is advised.

The first time I saw her and met her, it wasn't what I had imagined. Her beauty was angelic, her voice was soft and low, and her eyes-her eyes as big as the sun....filled with so much innocence. The moment my fingers flipped through the pages of her book something dark inside of me woke up, the need to claim her and break her all together. Known as one of best selling authors, writes the kind of stories that make people's skin crawl. Filled with her dark fantasies, sinful acts, the need to be let loose, strips the desire down to her deepest internal feelings. No one would ever guess a woman like Lucille jones, could think such vile things and turn it into art. - Love doesn't have to be delicate to be real; it can be docile like a lamb or submissive like its predator.