Jadelola Adebayo. She wasn't royalty. She wasn't billionaire-born. But she was brilliant with her hands, her designs slipping across Lagos society like silk - literally. She told herself it was only business. She told herself she would present the sketches, bow politely, and leave. But destiny has a way of rearranging careful plans. Because somewhere in the palace, descending from his own convoy with the slow arrogance of a man who had never been denied, was Prince Damilola Damien Adediran. And when his path collided with hers, Lagos itself seemed to pause. The city would remember their story. The blogs would feast on whispers of it. But in this moment, the world had no idea. All that existed was the dangerous pull between a woman who thought herself safe within marriage, and the Prince who had already chosen her - the one he would name Arike. She scowled, though her pulse betrayed her. "I told you before. I'm married. I don't belong to you." He stepped closer, closing the distance in unhurried strides until her back grazed the wall. His hand lifted, not touching, just hovering by her cheek. "Say it again, Arike. Louder this time. Maybe then I'll believe you." Her breath caught. "You're shameless." "Mm." His grin widened, vulgar and beautiful all at once. "Shameless enough to imagine what your lips taste like when you're angry. Shameless enough to want to hear you gasp my name the way you're gasping now." "Stop." Her palms pressed against his chest. Firm muscle beneath the fabric. Too warm. Too alive. He groaned, deep and rough, the sound vibrating under her touch. "Every time you touch me, Arike, you make it worse. Do you know that?" "I'm not-" she stammered, but he cut her off, voice dipping lower. "You think I don't see the way your pulse jumps when I look at you? The way you bite your lip when you're trying to hold back? Don't lie to me, ìfé mi. Your body betrays you

Janeisha "Neisha" Bambi has always survived by keeping a low profile. She don't get caught up in the kind of business that comes with bodies, secrets, and street names that echo. But all it takes is one night-one favor for her best friend-to slide her straight into the orbit of Seven "Saint" Carter. Saint is discipline wrapped in menace. A man the streets don't just respect,they fear. The type Neisha promised herself she'd never look at twice. He doesn't chase, beg, or explain. Yet somehow, he does all of this for her. And when that calm, unreadable gaze settles on Neisha, her careful world starts to crack. Now Saint's patience is running out, Neisha's defenses are falling apart and the pull between them is starting to feel less like a choice and more like fate. He's trying to shield her from the life he lives. She's trying to decide if loving him is salvation or self-destruction.

★★★TOP 5 WATTPAD ROMANCE NOVEL (reached #5)!★★★ When Sera's new art teacher mistakes her for a model and demands that she strip naked, sparks start to fly. Will Mr Marek be able to keep his student at arm's length after seeing everything she has to offer? His Model Student is the latest SIZZLINGLY HOT student-teacher romance from Noël Cades.

He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.

C O M P L E T E D : 24/02/22 Sienna Callum was popular - scratch that - she was the queen of high school. She had tons of gorgeous friends wishing to be her, smoking hot flings, and an unbelievably trendy fashion sense. But, she needed one more thing. Decent grades to graduate. Roman Lawrence was a nerd - scratch that - THE nerd of high school. Yet, his exceptional intelligence made him stand out among those seeking to learn. He had one problem though, the girl he'd been crushing on since kindergarten didn't like him back. One of the reasons? His lack of experience.... sexually. This isn't boy meets girl. This is mouse meets vixen. This is what happens when these two opposites strike a deal and things get hot. "So, here's my offer: you tutor me in school, and I tutor you in sex." _____ W A R N I N G T H I S S T O R Y C O N T A I N S : ❤︎ sexual/mature content ❤︎ explicit language ❤︎ alcohol consumption ❤︎ mild violence _____ H I G H E S T R A N K I N G S : 1 #virginboy 1 #goodboybadgirl 1 #nerdboy 1 #scandalous 1 #populargirl 1 #tutor 1 #badgirlgoodboy 2 #forbidden 2 #eroticromance 3 #sexy _____ S T A R T E D - 05/03/2021 C O M P L E T E D - 24/02/2022 (word count: 200,000 - 250,000)

❝Read me your favorite pieces of poetry while I please you❞ I feel his hardness grow underneath me and watch as his chest begins to rise and fall. His lips part open with heavy breaths. I begin to unbutton his shirt slowly, kissing down his neck almost in the worse and possible - teasing way. The cross necklace lying there, his holiness slipping away inch by inch as I leave my sins along his untainted skin. "P-Please" The deep vibration I feel against my lips as they stay on his pulse. I smile and lift my head, with one slow grind of my hips. Alessio let's a hot moan fall from lips. His erection grows harder, as well as the pulse of my clit. My pussy directly above him. "Read to me Alessio" - Honey Rose is a eighteen year old nymphomaniac sin, her desire for sexual pleasure and the way words slipped off her tongue easily without regret, get her sent to Hartford Academy. Where studies and religion are the only things allowed to be spoken in the halls. In which a nymph corrupts the innocence of her Dean's Son. Cover by : RoseEmiliaSnape Highest Rankings - #1 in badgirlgoodboy. #1 in nymph. #1 in unholy. #1 in tension. #1 in naughty. #1 in boarding-school. #2 in forbidden. #2 in tutor. #5 in seduction. #6 in unholy. #7 in lust. #10 in innocent. #11 in temptation.

Running from hell isnʼt easy. Especially when someoneʼs dragging you back down into it. Belligerent, brash and always in shades of black, Freya is hardly a lady. Hidden away by her father, sheʼs lived a normal life despite being born into the dark waters of New Yorkʼs underworld. Heʼs cold, cruel and calculating, with a proclivity for destruction. Feared by even Made Men, Torren is the boss of the stateʼs most leachorous crime syndicate. Freya hates his crudity and possessiveness, but she canʼt deny the way her breath hitches at his rough touch, the deep timbre of his voice, and his dark, heated gaze. Torren hates her disobedience, her recklessness, and her chaos. To him, sheʼs only something to be tamed. And after he slips a ring on her hand, snatching away her future, she makes only one vow---to become his biggest torment.

I froze. A man was slumped against the graffiti-covered brick wall, blood blooming across his side. His white shirt was soaked through, and there was a gun just inches from his open hand. My heart slammed against my ribs. Run, Skye. You should run. But I didn't. Instead, I dropped my bag and took a cautious step closer. His head lifted. Piercing, icy blue eyes met mine, sharp even through the haze of pain. His face was all sharp edges and shadowed scruff, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. His accent was thick and rough, like broken glass. "Leave." I shook my head slowly. "You're bleeding. Bad." "Not your concern." His voice was lethal, but he flinched hard when he tried to move. "You're gonna die out here," I whispered, kneeling beside him. My hands trembled as I pressed a napkin from my apron against his side. "I'm studying to be a nurse. Let me help." He stared at me like I was something he couldn't comprehend. A stranger. A softness he didn't trust. Then his hand, heavy and warm, clamped around my wrist-not rough, but firm. "What's your name?" he rasped. "...Skye." A beat passed. Then another. "I am Mikhail." His eyes darkened. "And you shouldn't have found me."