Injured, terrified, and on the run, Kisa never expected salvation to come wrapped in tattoos, scars, and steel. When she crashes-bloody and unconscious-into the garage of Slater Wylde, a brooding mechanic with a body built for sin, she wakes to more than just safety. She wakes to obsession... Slater is rough. Dangerous. Addictive. Precisely the kind of trouble she should run from, but his touch feels like protection and devotion. With Kisa's past still haunting her, she decides to lie low and enjoy a little bit of pleasure from the hands of a Wylde. There's only one problem: Slater has no intention of letting her go. Sometimes, the deadliest remedy comes with oil-stained hands and a possessive streak that burns through the soul.

Thrown in at the deep-end when she gets a scholarship to an elite ballet Academy, Carly's only saving grace is her handsome personal tutor, Mr. Langley. Her ballet is below par, her classmates dislike her, and her only friend cares more about the environment than her. Even Mr. Langley dislikes her... at first. But as everything else goes downhill, their relationship blossoms into something passionate and intense. Their relationship is forbidden, but can they find a way to be together?

All characters and events in this story are completely fictional. If anything seems familiar it is completely coincidental. All situations in this story come completely from my imagination. ________________ "And you need to stop calling me 'shawty', I'm not your girl so stop pushing the issue, I don't want to be just another name in your little black book." I said sounding more appalled than I could ever really be. He started walking closer to me and before I knew it, he had my back against the wall and my left leg wrapped around his waist. The look that he gave made him look so powerful that I couldn't help but be intimidated and turned on at the same time. "Look mami I don't think you really hearin' me so let me break this shit down to you real brief. Imma be around for the time bein' whether you want to be or not, I'm not goin' no where. Just let me have one chance." "Prove it." ________________

C O M P L E T E D In which a Puerto Rican woman with a strong exterior (and a rather weak interior) learns that her past yields no power over her, and she can learn to love the man that she just wants to fuck. ~*~ Published: 12/09/2016 Cover: _salacious

"Y-you," she stuttered, staring at the handsome man sitting on the sleek black throne, "you're..." He rolled his eyes, waving his hand impatiently and said, "Hades. Come on, say it with me. Ha-des." "Hades," Ariel breathed out, still not believing the sight before her. Every picture she had seen of the gods had not depicted Hades' beauty. The god sitting before her was not a crusty old man with a white beard; no, he was a Calvin Klein model. "Yes," Hades clasped his hands together and grimaced, "the God of Death and riches; that's me." Ariel nodded, still refusing to believe but knowing she had to and Hades' grimace turned even bitter, "And you, darling, will be staying with me for quite some time." ~*~ Cover: _nymphomaniac Published: 8/6/14

"You're a what?" Devin's full lips frowned as she eyed the man that only stood 3 feet away from her. "A sex therapist. Now please fix your expression, Miss Rodriguez." His creamy baritone responded agitatedly as she shook her head from side to side. "I need therapy, sir. Not any fucking dick." She growled, attempting to make a full exit out of the office, but not before she felt his large strong hands cup her small tiny wrists. He spun her around gracefully, his head dropping down to the space between their heads as his husky Burberry cologne overtook her nostrils. "Je ne suis pas d'accord belle dame," He muttered that beautiful second language against her skin, the language of love, as he smirked. She almost practically collapsed in his arms at the sound of it and he knew that he had her. "Maybe some fucking dick is exactly what you need." ©Copyright KeKe Biddle 2014 All Rights Reserved.

Discontinued. Check out the new version...coming soon.

[This is a spin-off of The DILF but can be read as a stand-alone] [The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.] There was nothing Ophelia wanted better than to gouge Nikolai's long-lashed, consuming blue eyes out with a butter knife and mail them to the rest of the Alvonich family. Too bad they were in a very public, very esteemed place - Mikhail's wedding. "You don't think I'll press the button?" Nikolai's breath was warm and teasing in her ear. Ophelia had no idea what possessed her to take up his challenge of a vibrating thong, except that it was too late to back out now. She turned to glance at the infuriating man beside her. "Honestly, I don't care. It won't affect me." "Sweet Ophelia," he whispered, surprising her by flicking his tongue into her ear. Jumping, she glared at him, ignoring the important guests at her table, her father included. Before she could curse at Nikolai, he pressed the button, the swearwords turning to soft moans under her breath. Gripping the edge of the table, Ophelia felt the attack on her cl!t like a burn to her skin. Her father shot her a concerned look from across the table and Nikolai's voice was again in her ear. "Before the end of the night, Ophelia, we will f**k," he promised, releasing his finger from the remote control. "Only this time, it will be my name you scream."

[Edited Version ● Alternate Ending] "I will savour every part of your body; every nook and every cranny. I will make you feel like my last meal. And I will do it with your husband in the next room." Sofia's breathing became ragged. She held the stupid cookbook to her chest like a lifesaver, but she couldn't stop her heart bashing against it. And Vaughn? His hand had somehow slipped up the hem of her dress... (Cover by @ilovepizaaaa)

[Edited Version ● Alternate Ending] "Colin? I feel so awful lying to you so I have to tell you what happened..today," Frankie blurted out, nervously cracking her knuckles as she stared at her boyfriend from one side of the living room. Colin's bright blue eyes danced. "What is it, sweetheart?" "I...I bumped into my ex-husband in the elevator today." "And?" Frankie exhaled. "And we had sex. In the elevator." There was an interminable silence before Colin smiled. "We'll work through this, honey. Don't worry." "Work through this?" she spluttered in disbelief. "How? How can we, when all I want is for him to do it again? And again, and again, and again, and..." She trailed off, sighing. It pained her to see Colin's hurt expression, but then again, it pained her to know that Konstantin had made her climax in that elevator more times than Colin had in their whole relationship... *cover by @hartlings*