Before the pleasure there is consent whispered to the wrong voice.There is heat that doesn't soothe- it threatens. There is the body learning how to ache without asking to be spared. Before the pleasure there is restraint tightened until it bruises, discipline mistaken for holiness, obedience rehearsed like a seduction. Mouths stop just short of ruin. Hands hover, trembling- not from fear, but from knowing what will be unleashed once they land. Before the pleasure there is control pressed against the throat of desire, and chaos grinding its teeth, waiting for permission to bite. There is a girl who confuses numbness for power, who burns herself quiet just to feel something sharp enough to count. There is a boy who has mastered command but never surrender, who mistakes dominance for safety, and discipline for love. Before the pleasure there is ritual: the inhale, the hesitation, the lie that this is still optional. Because once it begins-it won't feel like falling. It will feel like being claimed by the thing that's been watching you the entire time. And the pleasure? The pleasure comes later. After the damage. After the confession. After you realize you were never in control-only prepared.

Lies, sex , betrayal, abuse. Falling in love with a sibling is dangerous but they didn't show a lack of care. Building secrets and trust but what happens when being toxic takes the trust away ? No matter how much they argue they would forever be weak to eachother. Nothing would keep them away until they drifted apart over one thing.

"What I got to do to get some pussy?" I asked her and she just stared at me. "We're back to this shit." She said rolling her eyes and I chuckled. "I'm for real let a nigga know." I told her sitting up looking into her eyes which sat low cuh she was fucked up. "30 days." She said and I looked at her confused. "What?" "Show me your worth my pussy." She said leaving me still confused and I guess she knew cuh she went on. "No kissing, feeling, or no sexual intercourse with me or any other bitch for 30 days." She told me making me laugh. "I'm serious." She said as I still laughed. "Is yo shit even that good?" I asked her already knowing the answer. "Hell yeah if it wasn't you wouldn't have ate it and still came back for more." She said and I chuckled and shook my head thinking about this shit. "So a month with no pussy or head from Nobody? And if I do, I can do whatever I want to you?" I asked her then bitting my bottom lip thinking about it. "Yep." She said nodding her head and poring us both shots. "Deal." I told her and she smiled. I grabbed my shot and we tapped our shots together then threw them down our throat.

A little rusty but still a good read regardless! Kyrie. She was brought up on the rich upper east side of manhattan. Her parents, dad especially always wanted to best for her. Everyone wants to make her this ideal housewife, her boyfriend included but she resents the idea. She wants to branch out and make her own money on her own terms while utilizing her nursing degree in mental health. Christopher. Dropped on his head as a toddler he never really got the chance to experience life. His mother checked him into a mental facility early on and left him there while she continued on with her life. Christopher is kind, sweet, and caring and has wanted nothing more than someone to love him despite his disability. What will happen when Kyrie gets assigned to Christopher?

"If only you were mine.." "Baby I'm thuggin' I can't be yo' boyfriend." WARNING: this book is very fast paced, and very sexual. for my slow burners, check out Shiloh's Paramour🫶🏾.

"You just don't look....safe." Essence said while sipping her drink. "Naw, I only ain't safe for the niggas that hate me." "But for you, I'll be real cautious..."

Janiyah was the kind of girl everyone adored - sweet, kind, and effortlessly alluring. Her beauty and vibrant personality drew people to get, making her the center of attention wherever she went. Always up for a good time, she never missed a chance to dance or have a good time. But no one could have predicted that one night, one party, would change her life. Copyright © 2014

Love. A four letter word that can be described in so many ways. It always seem like a never ending emotional roller coaster. Heartache after heartache, the constant pain in my chest as if all the oxygen in my body has been sucked away. Love. A four letter word. Love, a word he made me feel. A special kind of love, something I needed. A love like this. THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT: FOUL LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DRUG USE AND TRIGGERS