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Moana Queens has two rules: stay on top, and never become my mother. I'm the most brilliant girl in school, a cheerleader with a sharp tongue and sharper ambition. I've spent my whole life watching my mother fall for the wrong men who fuck and leave. I refuse to be that girl. But then there's Dylan Dickson. He's arrogant, cocky and a fucking playboy who doesn't screw the same girl twice. He's also my academic rival, infuriatingly brilliant, and so goddamn sexy I can barely think straight when he's near. I hate everything he represents. I want him with a hunger that keeps me awake at night. And that terrifies me. Then fate delivers the cruelest blow: Dylan is my new stepbrother. Now we're living under the same roof, and the air between us is electric. I catch him shirtless, water dripping down that perfect body. He watches me like he wants to devour me, his voice a dark promise when he warns, "Don't start what you can't finish." Every accidental touch burns. Every heated glance makes me ache. I wouldn't do anything to sabotage my mother's relationship, seeing her finally happy and stable. Dylan doesn't believe in love, his mother's betrayal destroyed that years ago and he doesn't do commitment. But denying what's between us is torture. The want is primal…. The need is consuming…. And fighting it is slowly tearing me apart. One taste and I'll be ruined One touch and there's no coming back, The stakes have never been higher, but how much longer can I pretend I don't want to fuck him senseless.

THIS BOOK IS TO BE KEPT OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN! THIS IS NOT ROMANCE! THIS IS PURE, RAW AND UNDILUTED LUST! Turn off the lights, lock your doors... you're in for a ride! Welcome to a world where desire knows no boundaries and every fantasy has a story waiting to be told. When curiosity turns into habit, and habit into need, one question remains… How far is too far when you know you won’t stop? From ruthless pirates sailing dangerous seas to powerful CEOs exuding power behind closed office doors, from forbidden age gap tales to uncontrollable encounters that blur the lines…Where Milfs loose all sanity after years of celibacy and let young black boys wreck them Where teens get too curious and take more than they handle… When addiction takes over and logical reasoning flies out the window… Where men take women just because they can… Each tale explores a different corner of unlimited desire… dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies-to-lovers, possessive heroes, unconventional relationships, and fantasies too daring for everyday life. Some stories are sweet, some are intense, and some venture into the wildest corners of human longing. This book has no limits!!! Just stories that dare to explore every fantasy P.S: your secret is safe with me.

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

After I announced my exit from the music industry, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The only person who voiced his objection was my girlfriend's rumored lover, the up-and-coming songwriter Lucas Zacker. He put on a show of sincerity in front of a crowd of reporters. "It's all a misunderstanding. Matthew is an irreplaceable talent in the music industry. I sincerely hope he returns to the stage." I shut off my phone and turned a blind eye to his public plea. In my past life, one of my songs had been identical to his supposedly original single. As such, netizens accused me of plagiarism, cursing me and wishing death upon my family. Frustrated, I posted the entire creation process online, but it couldn't stand up to the timeline. His new song had been released ten minutes ahead of mine. Just because of the ten-minute difference, netizens sent me photoshopped mourning portraits of myself and even went so far as to come to my house and vandalize it with paint. The relentless cyberbullying went on for years, and it drove me into a deep depression. My parents exhausted their life savings trying to clear my name, only for crazed fans to set our house on fire, causing my parents to burn to death. In the end, when his song won an award, I jumped off a building. But who would have guessed that when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day the new song was set to release.

Andy Bennett had been my husband for ten years. And yeah, we were stupid in love. Lately, though, he'd gotten weirdly obsessed with some game on his phone. Every night, it buzzed nonstop. "It's new. The vibration setting is insanely relaxing." I bought it. I even got him blue-light glasses and wrist supports because he worked crazy hours and was always stressed. If a game helped him chill, fine by me. Then one night, he left his phone on the counter while he showered. It buzzed again. The screen lit up. No game. It was an app for a sex toy. A giant control wheel sat in the middle. [Remote Control] [Couple Mode] [Synchronized Vibration] Then a request popped up. [Invited by: Eunice Seaton.] My daughter's piano teacher.

Serena Jacobs and I have been entangled with each other for ten years. We thrive in humiliating each other. If she bids for the highlighted item in an auction for her male assistant, then I shall spam gifts for a female influencer on her livestream. If she thrashes my Maserati, I'll just throw away her Louis Vuitton bag. We've filed for a divorce multiple times. All of our friends keep telling us to just get a divorce, and yet we've never truly severed our ties in the end. But after Serena sings a happy birthday song for her assistant, I draft a divorce agreement right away. This leaves Serena feeling confused. "All this over a birthday song?" I nod calmly. "Yup. All this over a birthday song indeed."