"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.

Jasmin is a struggling dance teacher living off of what was left of her inheritance. And it is quickly depleting. Charles couldn't be more well off if he tried. He's a loving family man and well respected, content with his life at this stage. Their lives collide when he is sent to collect his grandson from the same club that she is trying to lose herself in. The attraction is immediate, the feeling of having met before overwhelming. But he's married, and she's too young to take up with him, not that he's the type of man to ever cheat. He knows he should forget her. She knows that he wouldn't look twice at her. But he can't, and he does. Their world's are irrevocably changed because they couldn't stay apart if they tried, no matter how deadly the consequences.

She just looked up at me, breath catching in her throat, eyes wide and wet beneath the streetlight. The pink of her dress shimmered under the glow, her skin gleaming like bronze polished by heat and defiance. "You want to dance drunk in some stranger's hands?" I demanded, jaw tight. "Fine. Just say it." She stared at me. Furious. Flushed. Shaking. Then she whispered, "Why does it matter so much?" I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because the truth would've ripped open everything. So it came out before I could stop it-low, guttural, the sound of something breaking free. "Because you're not theirs." She froze. And then... she stepped closer. Just a breath. Just a whisper of space left between us. "Then kiss me," she said, voice soft but certain. "You always stop. You always pull away. You tell me you notice me. That you protect me. But you never kiss me." She looked up at me, trembling. "So kiss me. Or let me go." I didn't move. Not for a heartbeat. Not for five. Because I knew what would happen once I did. There would be no turning back. Not for her. Not for me. She looked like sin and sweetness wrapped in fire and I'd already gone too long pretending I didn't want to burn. So I moved. One hand slid to her waist, dragging her closer. The other tangled in the back of her curls, angling her mouth to mine. And then I kissed her. God, I kissed her. Like she was the only source of oxygen left in the world. Like her lips were something I could consume. Like kissing her could fix every cracked, corrupted thing inside me. It wasn't gentle. It was possession. Teeth, tongue, breathless heat and broken restraint. Her mouth opened under mine. I took advantage tasting rum, rebellion and something so soft I nearly lost my balance. Her fingers gripped my jacket like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.She moaned into me. That sound soft, desperate, mine shot straight to the center of my chest. I deepened the kiss, groaning as her body arched into mine,

Jade has absolutely no experience when it comes to romance, sexually to be specific. Her (sort of) childhood friend, however, is the opposite and offers to let her practice with him. How far will Jun go to teach his new roommate, Jade, the basics of physical touch? 💋

NOW ON KINDLE UNLIMITED! Read the full story, including exclusive scenes, via the link in my bio! 🔗 He came for a hiding place. He stayed for the cook. Serenity Davidson has no time for strays. She's too busy running the best soul food catering business in Greensboro and keeping her heart in the Dudley neighborhood. As a proud Dudley High alum, Serenity knows how to handle the heat but she isn't prepared for the starving, half-dead man collapsed on her front porch. She does what she does best: she feeds him. He says his name is Kevin. He says he's an unemployed factory worker with "bad asthma." He is lying. He is Lorenzo Moretti, the ruthless Don of the Sicilian Mafia, battered and hiding in plain sight. He intended to heal, exact his revenge, and disappear. But after weeks of Serenity's soul food, her warm bed, and her sharp tongue, Lorenzo realizes he has a new addiction. He's not just going to take back his empire. He's taking the cook with him.

She's used to being the punchline. He's ready to burn down the theater. Journee Doyle has perfected the art of invisibility. As a plus-size woman in a world obsessed with size zero, she knows her role: be the funny friend, the hard worker, and the one who takes every insult with a smile. By day, she's a ghost. By night, she waits tables at the prestigious Nocturne Crown Hotel, serving Manhattan's elite while trying to forget she exists. Until the night she can't. A backhanded compliment from a billionaire guest and a "clumsy" spill of red wine by a jealous waitress leave Journee humiliated in a room full of people who refuse to look her in the eye. She flees, thinking it's just another scar to hide. She's wrong. Someone was looking. Andrés Morales-the elusive, ruthless CEO of the Nocturne Crown empire. A man who rules New York from the shadows. To him, Journee isn't invisible. She is inevitable. Andrés saw the insult. He saw the tears she tried to hide. And when he rewinds the security tape, his fascination snaps into a dark, primal obsession. He doesn't just want to comfort her; he wants to ruin anyone who ever made her feel small. When a custom gown arrives at her doorstep, sent to an unlisted address, Journee realizes this is no fairy tale. It's a hunt. She thinks he's playing a cruel game. She thinks a man like him could never want a woman like her. So she runs. But she's forgetting one thing: Andrés Morales owns the city. And he loves a chase. He doesn't want her to fit into his world. He's reshaping the world to fit her.

One week. Nine hundred thousand dollars. That's all it took for broke engineering major Amara to click "Yes" on the most exclusive, most secretive contract of her life. Seven nights on a private Caribbean estate with a man who looks like sin and pays like a god. No names. No limits. Just a nondisclosure agreement and a promise the money will erase every debt her family ever had. She never imagined she might lose more than she was bargaining... or that the fine print would haunt her long after the seventh night. Luca Écarlate doesn't do girlfriends. The second he saw Amara's file, he decided she was perfect. ⚠️ BDSM / Trigger Warning ⚠️ This story contains explicit sexual content, power exchange, consensual non-consent elements, spanking, bondage, dominance/submission, breeding kink mentions, and very dark themes including past childhood trauma and non-con elements in backstory. This story contains mature themes and is intended for readers 18+. All characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 📌 If you're reading this story anywhere other than Wattpad under the username of the author (booksthattalkbyl), it has been stolen.

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."

​Amari Brown is a struggling nursing student who only cares about graduating, but her world shifts when she meets her cold, billionaire professor, Luca Russo. Luca is a protective single father who lives by strict rules-until the intense chemistry with his student forces him to risk it all. What starts as forbidden tension in the classroom quickly spirals into a heated, secret romance. Now, they must navigate a brewing scandal and the shadows of Luca's legacy to protect the family they've started to build. Some lessons are meant to be broken.