[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*

When a downcast, introverted, and unmotivated twenty-eight-year-old hooks up with a stranger at a bar, the last thing she expected was to see him at work the next day. What happens when the girl who's sworn off relationships, falls in love with the one man who isn't afraid to break apart the walls she's built? ............ McKenzie Anderson is still trying to piece her life back together after separating from her husband, but she's dug herself into a slump she can't quite get herself out of. Add in an infuriating and devilishly handsome new boss to the mix, things are bound to get a whole lot more interesting in her life. Ethan Thomas is a straight shooter who knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to show it. He's got his eyes set on the feisty blonde, and he's made it his mission to show her love isn't hopeless. From their first wild night together, both Ethan and McKenzie felt the intense and undeniable attraction between them. The closer these two get and the more vulnerable they become, they have to wonder if there's more to their encounters than steamy passion. One thing's for sure, and that's that sparks will fly and hearts will be mended. ~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\ "What is it you want, McKenzie?" He demands, his lips on my neck nibbling and kissing their way up to my earlobe. His hand trails down my skin until it finally reaches the lace material separating my pussy from his fingers. Still staring intently into my eyes, he slowly moves the lace material aside and dips into my hot and ready core. I bit down on my lip, attempting to suppress my moans. This only motivates him to push deeper. His fingers begin to move rhythmically inside of me, pushing me over the edge. "I want you!" I finally release, fully giving into him. WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT |18+| |WATTPAD FEATURED| #1 in Sexy #1 in Flirty #1 in Divorce #1 in EroticaStories

(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT) "Attract a lot of attention, huh beautiful?" His voice hit me like a wall, absurdly catching me off guard. It was deep, sensual, something any girl (or boy) could melt over. I was sort of speechless, yet trying my best to appear unafflicted. "Only the wrong ones." That was definitely drunken me talking, as I didn't usually have that much confidence. His lips twitched up into a smirk, expressing that he understood my comment. "Does that mean that I'm in that category?" My palms began to grow sweaty and my heart rate picked up, but otherwise my body remained relaxed, appearing completely fine. It similar to when you're on autopilot, completely withdrawn due to intoxication. "I suppose not," I crossed my arms, putting on this seductive persona just for him. This fueled his smirk, about to murmur another comment before I cut him off. "You'll have to show me, though." *** Amelia Hollis was a 23-year-old writer at one of the local publishing companies, assisting a very handsome man and writing articles left and right. Her and her best friend, Aviary, lived together in a cute little apartment off the central part of the city, yearning to create new memories and important moments. Amelia always lived for the moments, taking in every little detail and savoring it like it was her favorite meal. She was an optimist, hoping to change peoples lives with her dreams. James Vallette was a 34-year-old CEO, building his company from dirt with the help of his brother. He was a realist, not really having time to deal with dreams or even love. He knew this the night he laid eyes on Amelia. It was only casual; what harm could a one-night stand do? Oh yeah, he's her dad's boss.

"James McGregor, CEO of McGregor industries, has passed away yesterday evening after a long battle with cancer. James McGregor, aged 63, was one of the-" Elizabeth shut the TV off, she couldn't bear to listen to this... She had been there when it happened, she did not need it to be repeated. Elizabeth Waverton had been Mr. McGregor's personal assistant for the last three years. During that time the two of them had gotten close. They became friends, as he was as a father to her. Ms. Waverton was seen by many as one of the best personal assistants that there was. Most didn't last long at the McGregor's, but Ms. Waverton did. She was known for making anything possible, having connections all over town and anywhere you can imagine. But now that her former boss and friend is dead the company will be taken over by James McGregor jr. the son of her boss. Elizabeth had never quite taken a liking to this man, but he however has taken an interest in her...

After a horrible accident, Nemesis Ace has felt nothing but gratitude towards Alessio Romano, the man who had stepped in during one of the most terrifying moments of her life. But that's all he was supposed to be. The man who happened to witness a crime that was about to happen, and saved her. But he wasn't. The gratitude turned into something else. A crush. But crushes can get out of hand really quick. And dangerous.

'You see this hair? You can't imagine how many times I've imagined it wrapped in my fists while I fuck your tight, sweet pussy,' he stated, his voice deep and inviting. And gosh, if words could fuck, I'd have an orgasm right now. My breath hitched, and I could feel my chest rising up and down. God, so he thinks of fucking me too? My cheeks reddened as I imagined him pounding into me. 'Do you want me to fuck you, hm?' he asked, his hands twirling my hair, then moving to the curve of my ass. ──── ୨୧ ──── He watches her like a sinner craving salvation- but there's nothing innocent about what he wants. Niccolò Romano isn't her brother. Not by blood. Not by law. But sharing a house with your childhood best friend turned cold, silent, six-foot-something heartthrob? That's dangerous. Lenora walks around in tiny shorts and soft tank tops, driving him crazy-and maybe she knows. Maybe she wants him to snap. And when he does, it's not sweet. It's intense. Possessive. Obsessive. He shows up in her room at midnight, voice low, jaw tight, telling her no one gets to touch her, look at her, or even think about her. Because she's his. And he doesn't care who finds out-parents, campus, or the entire world. Off-limits? Too late. Forbidden? Way past that. Once Niccolò lays his hands on her, there's no undoing it. No hiding it. No going back. She was never his to want- but now that he's had a taste, He'll ruin everything just to keep her. Living under the same roof, Lenora must decide if she can resist Niccolò's pull-or surrender to the past and passion that bind them. 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑/𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 : ❥ mature/sexual themes/smut ❥ alcohol references ❥ language ❥ mild violence ❥ obsession ❥ tension started- May 1st , Finished June 11th Copyright all rights reserved

To create. That's what Gianna Alexie wanted to do ever since she was a little Gia. After graduating college, the woman vowed to create a book for the world to love, though she knew she'll be needing help. Help came in the form of her mentor, Keenan Travino, a man more than a decade her senior with thin patience, a love for cigarettes and bourbon, and as many issues as the clever tricks up his sleeves. - COMPLETED BUT UNEDITED - 1ST DRAFT - PAPERBACK NOW AVAILABLE

"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.

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?"

"Morning, Mr. Serious," I say now, setting his usual cup on the table. I add two sugar packets because I can't help myself. He never uses them. He never even looks at them. But I like the idea of them sitting there, taunting him with sweetness. His eyes flick up to mine - stormy gray, the kind that make you feel like you're under interrogation for a crime you don't remember committing. "You should stop doing that." His voice is low, accented, like gravel dragged across velvet. Russian maybe? Or Italian. Or both. Either way, it does unholy things to my stomach. "Doing what?" I ask innocently, sliding the sugar closer to his hand. "That." His gaze drops to the packets. "I don't take sugar." I grin, all sunshine and sass. "You don't know that. Maybe one day you'll wake up and realize life's better with a little sweetness." ●・○・●・○・● Rafael Volkov doesn't do small talk. Or smiles. Or sugar in his coffee. As the mafia's underboss, he's built a reputation on silence, sharp suits, and an expression that could curdle milk. So of course, Lila Parker makes it her mission to crack him. The sunny diner waitress insists on slipping him extra sugar packets, calling him "Mr. Serious" behind the counter, and treating him like a normal guy instead of a walking red flag. He tells her to stop. She doesn't. He growls. She grins. And suddenly, his late-night coffee runs feel less like routine and more like... something he shouldn't want. The problem? In his world, affection is dangerous. Smiles get noticed. Weaknesses get used. And if Lila isn't careful, her little act of kindness might just paint a target on her back. Rafael swore he didn't have a sweet tooth. Turns out he was wrong. ●・○・●・○・● Word Count: 37,478