Novels by zoeyjenny8

SeraphinaI was one of those women who knew they were beautiful I’ve always known that my beauty is a weapon. It’s the kind of looks that stop traffic, the kind that makes powerful men stammer and forget their own names. My husband, Arthur, bought that beauty fair and square in an arranged marriage that looked great on paper and even better in society magazines.Arthur is a good man. He’s kind, he’s a billionaire, and he’s emotionally present. He calls me three times a day from Tokyo or London to ask if I’ve eaten. Even the sex is... fine. It’s polite. It’s "good." But it’s missing the one thing I crave: a spark that actually burns.Then came Cassian.My husband hired him six months ago after a minor kidnapping scare. "The best of the best, Sera," Arthur had told me over a glass of vintage scotch. "Ex-military, Special Forces. He’ll keep you safe and teach you how to handle yourself."What Arthur didn't realize was that he hadn't just hired a guard; he had hired a god carved out of g

Eva For the first time in three years, I didn’t wake up to the cold, empty space of a mattress or the sight of a back turned toward me. When I opened my eyes, the room was bathed in the soft, golden hue of early morning. I was tucked firmly against Sebastian’s chest, his arm protectively wrapped around my waist. I stayed still for a moment, listening to his heartbeat. With Julian, I always woke up alone because he’d already headed to the rink without a word. I felt Sebastian stir. He didn’t reach for his phone or check the time. He simply tightened his hold on me and buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "You're so beautiful when you sleep, Eva," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and a rough, morning rasp. "I’ve spent an hour just watching you. Even the way you drool a little... it’s perfect." I felt a flush creep up my neck, a bubbly, light sensation dancing in my stomach. I looked up at him, squinting. "I do not drool," I protested, though my he

Eva I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I brushed them against the fabric of his trousers. I could feel the hard outline of him beneath the fabric.I moved my hand slowly, stroking him through the cloth, and a low, wild sound vibrated in his chest. It wasn't the quick, impatient grunt I was used to from Julian; it was a sound of pure, unadulterated want.I reached for his belt buckle, my heart hammering against my ribs as I undid it, the metallic click echoing in the room. He helped me, pushing his trousers down until they pooled around his knees.As the fabric fell, I gasped.His boxers were already stained with a dark, wet patch of precum. The sight of it, the physical evidence of how much I had him affected sent a surge of power through me that was almost dizzying. Julian had never been like this. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. They joined his trousers at his knees, and then he was there.He was beautiful. That was the o

Sabastian "Eva," I rasped, my voice sounding rougher than I intended. "If I close this gap, If I kiss you again,, you don’t get to call it a mistake after.”She nodded immediately.That was all I needed.I leaned in, moving with agonizing slowness, closing the final inch of space until I finally claimed her lips.It wasn't like the kiss in the car. That was desperation; this was passion. I took my time, tasting the vanilla on her lips, memorizing the way her mouth opened for me and lord, I wanted more. I realized she was straining, standing on her tiptoes to reach me, and I couldn't have that. In one fluid motion, I hooked my arms under her thighs and lifted her.She let out a soft, surprised gasp into my mouth, her legs instinctively curling around my waist. "I've imagined this," I murmured against her lips. "So many times. So many fucking times."She pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were glassy. Her lips were already swollen.“That kiss in the car wrecked me,” I ad

Sabastien "It was a mistake," Eva whispered, her voice trembling. "It can’t happen again." I could have sworn I heard a crack sound coming from my heart when I heard her say that. I couldn’t bring myself to move away from her. I kept my forehead pressed against hers for a heartbeat longer than was strictly appropriate, my pulse thundering in my ears like a war drum. My hand was still curved around the side of her neck, my thumb resting just below her jawline where I could feel the frantic, fluttering beat of her heart. I looked down at her lips and they were swollen, wet, and parted. For a split second, the urge to ruin my brother’s girl engulfed me but she said it was a mistake. All it was, was a mistake. I exhaled a ragged, labored breath and forced myself to pull away. "You don't kiss someone like that by accident, Eva," I said, my voice sounding like gravel under a boot. "I'm sorry," she breathed again. "I'm so sorry, Sebastian.""Stop apologizing," I snapped. "Just..

Eva The first person my fiancé looked for in the crowd to wave and smile at after he scored a goal was my older sister, Olandria. He literally looked past me to search for her. I had spent my entire life being second all because my sister, Olandria existed. Olandria didn’t try to outshine me. That was almost the worst part. She didn’t have to try. She just walked into a room and the room rearranged itself around her. My parents didn’t mean to make me feel like a supporting character in her story. They just loved her loudly and loved me quietly and never understood that the difference was everything.When Olandria left for her PhD scholarship– the one my mother called the family’s greatest achievement at Sunday dinner, the one my father printed on a card and put in his wallet, I felt two things simultaneously.The first was genuine pride, because I loved my sister.The second was a shame I still haven’t forgiven myself for: relief.For the first time in my life, the spotlight had