Dangerous. Unpredictable. Unstable. Possessive and Toxic. He was all things bad. Messy black hair, scars covered with tattoos and sadistic like tendencies. He was all things violent. A twitchy trigger finger, a facinatin for blood and murder he always got what he wanted. So why couldn't he have her? Amira had been sent to assassinate nightmare. All she had to do was gain his attention then kill him Right? Wrong. what Amira failed to realise was being the centre of this psychotic mans attention was a dangerous and unpredictable place to be. Nightmare always got what he wanted and he wanted her. 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁. ••••••••••••••••••••••••• An enemies to lovers story ♡︎ For... •••••••••••𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 ••••••••••• 𝗘𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸! "𝑆𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔" he muttered trailing the dagger over the edge of my jaw and down to my lips. A mistake. "ℎ𝑚𝑚" he grumbled inching closer to get a look at the 'accident' he had just caused. My lip had been cut thus blood trickled down to my chin. His dark onyx eyes watched it with a deep lustful intensity. The pad of his thumb runs over my now slightly sore and bleeding lip. His eyes light up in facination as he deliberately smears the blood across my lips. Already inches apart he slowly edges closer, our lips brushing against one another he glanced down a them. Paused. And whispered "𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢" Ranks 1st in action-romance 22/7/21 1st in mafia 9/5/21 1st in femme fatal 26/7/21 9th in assassin

*This is a FREE book with PAID exclusive chapters* [The Dad I'd Like to F*ck] "You should be careful," Devin said calmly, bending over to scoop Rory into his arms. "This bathtub can get incredibly slippery." "So I noticed," she said dryly. Mortified, she noticed how erect her nipples were. They stabbed the air like tiny knives of arousal and she was positive that Devin had noticed. "I think I can walk now," she said quickly. To her relief, he set her on the ground and reached for her towel. "This is the second time I'm rescuing you," he said, in that quiet way Rory was beginning to recognise as his annoyed tone. "Let's not make it a habit." Rory tightened the towel around herself, wincing from the motion. "I slipped in the tub. Hardly a rescue." A dirty look crossed his face. "I haven't had sex in two years, Rory. Consider yourself rescued..." He turned to leave "...from me." She was speechless. For starters, this had been the longest conversation she'd ever had with Devin Shaw and, secondly, she was positive that he wasn't as crazy as he let everyone believe he was...

[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."

"What would you like me to play; The violin or your pussy?" • • • He lived on the street. They called him a tramp. He slept with trash and found his meals in the garbage. Nobody knew who he was. Melody knew the moment she met him, something about him was off. Something about him was missing. Impassive and unpredictable, he always lurked around, his hulking figure a wandering question mark on the streets of New York. But give him a violin and watch him play...