"𝘾'𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 "𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙢𝙖"

She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them. As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past. Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man. Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time. When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own. - preview - God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming. "Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea." "You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."

BOOK 2 I was too busy gripping the sheets, moaning to argue with this dumbass. "Fucking love how you sound,ma," he murmured? his lips brushing against my ear. "Only for me, right?" "Y-Yeah," I stammered, barely able to form fucking words. "Damn right," he said, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his dick. THIS STORY IS NOT EDITED ‼️

"You really think I'm out here giving this dick to anybody else, beautiful?" She swallowed, watching my hands go to my zipper. I smirked, leaning down, dragging my fingers up her thigh, over her soaked panties. "Look at yourself in the mirror, Jade."

Highest Rank #5 in General Fiction (10-06-2017) Anante's Story She left her hell to reside in his, yet she found it to be heaven. She had no choice, after all he had bought her. He never cared for anyone but himself. Yet this girl, this village girl, was making him care a lot. He had no choice, his heart left him with no choice...

When a world-renowned Black surgeon Dr. Amara Blake finds a bruised, shivering four-year-old boy abandoned behind a dumpster, her instinct is immediate-save him. She has no idea that the quiet, broken child she's nursing back to life is the missing heir of Sergei Mikhailov, a ruthless Russian mafia don with a blood-soaked past and billions at his command. As Amara and little Nikolai form an unbreakable bond, Sergei's desperate search leads him straight to her door-and to a woman whose strength, warmth, and unapologetic grace challenge everything he thought he knew about power and love. But the past is never far behind. As danger creeps closer and secrets unravel, Amara and Sergei must confront the darkness threatening their fragile new world. What begins as protection becomes devotion, and what starts in survival ignites into something neither of them expected: a love powerful enough to rewrite their futures. Beneath Her Grace is a gripping, slow-burn romantic drama about healing, redemption, and the kind of love that makes even the most dangerous men kneel. #1 in Russian

The grand finale

❝Fucking hell, Angel. Please, continue riding me like this. It feels so good. Please❞ he moans to me, letting his mouth open wide to show his own pleasure. I won't stop. I lean over his body and let my palm press onto his mouth, letting my four fingers grab one side of his face as my thumb grabs the other. I can never get tired of him talking no matter the occasion, but right now, this will go exactly as I want. "I don't remember giving you permission to talk, or touch my breasts." He exhales his pleasure as he pulls his hands beside his head submissively. His lips move, and his voice begins to rumble against my hand. I pull it away for a moment. "P-please. I love them." he moans. I raise an eyebrow, slowing down the movement of my hips to torture him. "What do you love?" I ask him, teasing the words out of him. It's no secret, but I'd rather him broadcast it on his shirt than only tell me once. I keep myself steady, not wanting to reach another orgasm myself. "Your breasts." he admits. "You love...?" I ask. "You." He moans, telling me what I want to hear. → Having to deal with the trauma of losing a parent, the Inferno goes about life taking what he pleases and not caring for the feelings of others. When secrets are revealed, so is his true self. His persona is at stake when he indulges in a forbidden romance with someone he's known to be family all of his life. The inferno. Lucifer on Earth. #1 Manxwoman #2 Forbiddenromance #2 Blackwoman #2 Slowbuild