로그인Welcome to four couples where love flips into lies, truth gets cheated on, and betrayals leave bite marks. The ice is brutal, but the sex is worse. First, stepbrother and stepsister — captain and photographer — sparking in the family darkroom with taboo hate that turns dripping wet. Next, the debt-ridden enforcer and his ice-queen manager lose it in dominant, screaming desk sex. Then fake-dating explodes for the cocky winger and journalist into vicious, car-rocking hate-fucks. Finally, the goalie and forbidden trainer surrender in hot, possessive rehab nights. Sex appeal ruins everything. With scandals, fights, and secret group chats, these couples chase orgasms while everything falls apart. Filthy, fast, and addictively steamy. Steamy enough to melt the ice, messy enough to break you. This story contains morally grey heroes, bdsm, MF romance, MM romance, FF romance and brings to life every steamy imagination you could have. Stay tuned~
더 보기IzzyI dragged myself through the front door way later than I meant to, legs aching from running around the rink all day trying to get decent shots while Riven acted like I was invisible except when he wanted to glare at me. The house was lit up like always, and right away Mom and Mr. Holt were on me in the hallway, both talking at once with these worried faces that made me feel like a kid who missed curfew even though I was twenty and just out with my girls.“Isolde, we’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” Mom said, waving her phone like proof. “Where were you? We wanted Riven to pick you up from that bar so you didn’t have to take a ride home alone this late.”“Yeah, could’ve called,” I muttered, kicking off my shoes and already feeling the annoyance build because I knew what was coming. “Or texted. Whatever. I’m fine, I got back okay.”Riven was right there on the stairs, arms crossed, looking freshly showered and pissed like he’d been waiting just to argue. “Why the hell would
Izzy I spent the whole afternoon in that room they gave me trying to make it feel like mine instead of some fancy guest suite I didn’t earn. Mom kept popping in every ten minutes with that bright new-wife smile, handing me extra hangers and asking if I needed help unpacking, while Mr. Holt Dad now, I guess loomed in the doorway talking about how great it was going to be having a photographer in the family. Riven didn’t show up once. Fine by me. I tossed my clothes into drawers, set my camera gear on the desk by the window, and plugged in my laptop like I was claiming territory. Every time I thought about him from practice earlier my stomach did that stupid flip, half mad, half something I wasn’t ready to name. “Act tough,” I kept muttering to myself while I hung up shirts. “He’s just an annoying asshole who happens to live here now.”By evening I was wiped. Dinner was awkward as hell with everyone pretending this shotgun family merge was normal. Riven sat across from me again, barely
IzzyDear Diary, I think I’m finally ready to stop being a virgin. I’ve been good my whole damn life, keeping my head down, chasing jobs that barely paid rent, and now this one thing, this one infuriating, stupidly hot guy has me twisted up so bad I can’t even think straight. But I have to play it cool. Act tough. Because he’s an annoying piece of shit who probably hates me already, and I’m not about to let him know he’s under my skin.Now let’s rewind a little, It all kicked off earlier. I was broke as hell, scraping by on freelance gigs that mostly involved shooting blurry pictures for sad little websites. Then out of nowhere this email came through; Toronto Thunder needed a team photographer for the playoffs push. I had been applying for years and years and finally it happened. I said yes before I even read the fine print. First day on the job and I’m hauling my camera bag through the arena tunnels, heart hammering because this was supposed to be my break through.I had studied thi






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