At thirty-six, he's a lethal ghost who views her strictly as an assignment. At twenty-one, she's a reckless scientist who refuses to be told when to breathe. He's supposed to keep her safe and keep his distance. Instead, she's ruining his detachment, and he's realizing some lines are meant to be broken.

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.

A spontaneous Friday night outing led Nova to a surprise destination: Ramiro's bed, the one person her brother can't stand- and the one who ignited a fire she can't seem to ignore. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?" 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙧. "𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?" 𝘼 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙩. 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜. "𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙤," 𝙄 𝙢𝙤𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙨. "𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙤?" 𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙙. "𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙤, 𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙧?"

✥ The Mob Boss & His Therapist ✥ [part one/ unedited] BEING EDITED FOR FURTHER PUBLISHING Rafael Rossi, a glass like fragile Italian mob boss, who has sworn to never let anyone on his demons that have only resulted him post traumatic stress disorder. He had one promise, to make those bleed who have made him bleed and his biggest motive being to never let anyone on the pain he has been carrying in his heart that has been bleeding for stitches till this day. He had grown out of love with the concept of love which had him only suffer. Little did the heartless mob boss know he would find someone who knew him more than he knew himself. Ravenna Romano, a kind & loving therapist, who had made a mission to help others escape their pain and make them fall in love with the idea of love once again. Losing her baby brother, Beau, at a young age had given her the curse of a bleeding heart which after a long toll, she learned pain can be only subsided by love. She knew darkness can only be taken away by the light of hope. Hope of a new fresh start. But she did not know that she would be helping the heartless Italian realise that his heart was waiting to be healed. Little did she know that she was going to be the therapist of Rafael Rossi. But would she be able to be his remedy when she choose the sweetest words to heal his brittle heart when he choose the most poisonous actions to break it. ﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎ "Mr.Rossi I really need you to open up to me for our sessions to work." She said in her sweet innocent voice as he felt himself rage at her pointless efforts on healing something that doesn't exist. "How about you start by opening up to me?" He asked while his eyes traveled down her ripe body. "Mr.Rossi, I don't understand." The caring heart of the therapist spoke as she felt his greedy gaze upon her untouched shrine . "Open up your legs Ms.Romano."

[18+] | smut warning "You're younger." "Doesn't change the fact that you are dripping wet for me." She said it was wrong. He proved it felt too good to care. He's her best friend's cousin. Sleeps across the hallway. Two years younger, and still knows how to make her bend. Moan. Beg. "Truth or dare?" he asks. "Dare." "Then don't make a sound while I fuck you." She said she wouldn't fall. But when his hand wraps around her throat and he growls, "I don't care who touched you before. You're mine now." She breaks.

"Be a good boy, Ares, and just follow my lead." His chest rose up rapidly, taking his hands into mine and placing them on my waist. Feeling him begin to grow hard and the pool of wetness between my legs ached my soul. I needed him now. A piece of his hair fell on his forehead, his thumbs moved in circular motion as I rocked my hips back and forth, holding onto his shoulders for support. I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing more of his toned chest; I was practically salivating at this sight. It was obvious that he was going to the gym, even just by looking at his arms you could tell. This man was pure perfection, and I was pure seduction. "W-we shouldn't be doing this," his voice was breathless and ragged. My back arched because of the growing sensation I was feeling; he dipped his head between my neck, placing light kisses. I fist his hair as my jaw drops; my panties are drenched. "We should, we had a deal." _____ Violet Gray was a sophomore in college and failing her classes. With her growing popularity due to her looks and partying every night, Violet had completely forgotten the true reason for being in school. She had two options: get kicked out of college or find a tutor. Violet didn't want either; she was embarrassed to be kicked out. Ares Meadows was the epitome of smart and talented; his grades were all straight A's. He didn't have time to party nor focus solely on his looks and popularity. Ares was a nerd with even more nerdy friends, but the way he looked distracted everyone from the fact that he was a nerd. But nobody wants an inexperienced man.

As he slammed me into the wall by my neck I try to kick him to resist but he instantly reflects grabbing my leg in a tight grip causing me to wince. " Kiara, darling, didn't I tell you were going to be on your knees for me today?" He says still holding my neck, his lips a inch away from mine. " You're delusional! I have men on their knees for me! I'll be damned if you think you're an exception!" I yell bringing our lips even closer. He tilts his head and reaches in my joggers and puts his hand on my clit over my underwear. "So why are you so soaked?" Lorenzo and Kiara are both dominants in the bdsm community. Which means their not compatible for each other. Or so we thought. When Kiara sees Lorenzo in the bdsm club she feels a weird attraction to him. But Lorenzo clearly isn't a submissive? When Lorenzo sees Kiara it's clear that she is a dominant. But when he sees the way she looks at him when they see each other for the first time it's an obvious look of submission. But Kiara isn't a submissive?

He gripped my waist flipping our position, my hands quickly gripping the headboard of my bed. My legs straddled his face, my cunt hovering over his mouth. He let out a breath, the cool air made my core clench. "vince this-" I moaned lifting my hips trying to move away. I could feel myself twitching in wanted pleasure. I wanted it so bad, but he- "fucking ride." ... Highest Rankings #1- fiction #1- brothersbestfriend #1- mafiaprincess #1- language #1- mobboss #1- daddyissues #1- daddysgirl #1- spicy #2- fluffandsmut #2- dominant #4- graphiccontent #3- mafiasmut #4- billionaire

« Beaucoup plus qu'une histoire d'amour. » with PLK

À 24 ans, Séréna Rolz est l'étoile montante du stylisme parisien, depuis deux ans, elle habille les plus grandes célébrités - acteurs de renom, footballeurs en pleine lumière et rappeurs en pleine ascension. Que ce soit pour les Ballons d'Or, les avant-premières ou les festivals, son œil affûté et sa créativité redéfinissent les codes de l'élégance urbaine. Derrière les projecteurs, Séréna trace sa route, fidèle à elle-même, portée par une ambition solide et un amour sincère pour son art. Elle reste aussi très attachée à ses racines... et à Ormaz, son ami d'enfance, devenu le pont entre elle et un certain rappeur incontournable. Mathieu Pruski, alias PLK, 28 ans, ne vit que pour la scène, avec des années de carrière derrière lui et une notoriété grandissante, il enchaîne les dates comme d'autres respirent. Mais derrière l'assurance du rappeur se cache un homme obsédé par une seule chose : laisser une trace, Marquer l'histoire du rap. Ne pas être oublié. Son quotidien, c'est la pression, les studios, les tournées... et de moins en moins de repères sincères. Quand leurs mondes se croisent - celui des projecteurs et celui des coulisses - un lien inattendu se crée entre la styliste discrète et le rappeur à la carapace bien forgée. Entre ambitions, blessures passées, et confidences volées en backstage, Séréna et PLK vont se découvrir, se confronter... et peut-être s'aider à trouver leur propre vérité.