เข้าสู่ระบบSome summers change everything. Some men are supposed to be off-limits. Desmond Cole is both. Anna Ashford has spent nineteen years being the good daughter, the one who smiles at the right moments, laughs at the right jokes, and portends not to notice the way her father's best friend looks at her when he thinks nobody is watching. She notices. She has always noticed. But noticing is not the same as acting. And acting is not the same as falling. And falling... Falling is not something else entirely. One night at the lake house changes the rules of every game Anna thought she understood. Desmond is older, powerful, and completely wrong for her in every way that counts. He knows it. She knows it. And the lake outside her window knows every secret they are trying to keep from the man sleeping down the hall. He calls it a mistake. She calls it the most honest thing that has ever happened to her. And now neither of them can find their way back to who they were before it. The Devil's Lake is a story about wanting what you cannot have, taking what you should not touch, and discovering that the most dangerous fires are the ones that feel exactly like home. Some mistakes you survive. Some you choose, again and again, until choosing becomes the only truth left.
ดูเพิ่มเติมThe Girl Who Played With Fire The days that followed were a masterclass in deception. By day, Anna was the model daughter, helpful and cheerful. She went tubing with her father, she read books on the deck, she even helped the housekeeper make dinner. And Desmond the devil, played his part perfectly. He was charming and attentive to Richard and coolly polite to her. There were no more stolen glances, no accidental brushes of the hand. The wall he had tried to build that morning was back in place, taller and stronger than before.But the nights were different.The house would fall silent. Her father would be asleep, lost in mundane dreams of stock options and golf. And then, it would start. A text, a single, burning word: Boathouse. Or sometimes: The dock after midnight.She would go, every single time. Her body would move of its own accord, a moth drawn to a beautiful and deadly flame.These encounters weren't about tenderness or confessions. But they were about raw and a desperate
The Devil's KissIt wasn't the exploratory kiss from the night before. This kiss was a punishment and a plea, a desperate and hungry clash of teeth and tongues. It was the devil's kiss, promising damnation and delivering a taste of heaven. He backed her up against the rough wall of the boathouse.His body pinning hers, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip with a force that was both painful and exhilarating. He was reclaiming her, re-marking his territory, and God help her, she was letting him.She kissed him back with all the fury and frustration inside her, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. She bit his lower lip, hard and he groaned. A deep primal sound of approval that went straight to her core. His hand slid from her hip to her thigh, hooking her leg and pulling it up around his waist. The thin cotton of her sundress was no barrier at all. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock against her, a demand she was powerless to resi
The Girl Who Kissed a Devil "You don't have a choice," he said, his voice hardening. He was fully dressed now, the powerful CEO back in place.The man who had been inside her, who had claimed every inch of her, was gone. And in his place was a stranger. A devil in a tailored shirt. "Go to your room, Anna, we will pretend this never happened. In the morning, we will be Desmond and Anna, your father's best friend and his daughter. That's the only way."He moved to the door, his hand on the knob, pausing with his back to her. The set of his shoulders was final, a wall she could not breach."Get dressed," he said without turning around. "And don't make a sound."He opened the door and slipped out into the dark hallway, closing it softly behind him and leaving her alone in the wreckage of her father's bed. The room felt cold, and empty. The scent of him was already fading, replaced by the sterile smell of her father's cologne on the pillows.She sat there for a long time, the sheet clut
The Man Who Kissed Me Like No TomorrowDesmond shifted, rolling off her but immediately pulling her into the curve of his arm. He wasn't running, and he wasn't apologizing. But he was stroking her hair, his fingers tracing patterns on her sweat-damp skin as if they had all the time in the world."Anna," he murmured, his voice now hoarse. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, a gesture that was so tender, so shockingly domestic, it almost hurt.She couldn't speak. What was there to say? Thank you? Now what? Please, never let me go? She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, trying to memorize this feeling of being held, and of being utterly and completely claimed."This changes everything," he said, stating the obvious with a gravity that settled in her stomach like a stone."We can't," she finally whispered, the words were a pathetic protest against a truth she had no desire to fight."My father…""I know," he sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "But it's done, we'
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