How To Respond When Someone Says 'Please Hug Me'?

“I, Riccardo Saviano, future Alpha of the Grey Shadow Moon Pack, reject you, Artemisia Guerrieri, Daughter of Alpha Franco of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate and future Luna.” One single sentence. One stupid single sentence was all it took to disintegrate my life. And the day of my birthday, on which this sentence was audaciously uttered to me, I lost the love of my life, my future mate, and my wolf, all at once. As I’m still assembling the pieces of my shattered heart years later, there they come. Like lightning out of a crystal blue sky. My Mates. But wait… If I am mated to triplets, how come I’m about to be mated to 5 gorgeous men? *** TW: explicit and foul language; spicy content; explicit sex scenes *** Book 1 : When They Touch Me - Completed Book 2 : Their Burning Touch on my Skin (Sequel) - Ongoing

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn. ----------------------- "Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me." "Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare. "You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?" My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes." "Say it. I want to hear every word." "I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..." He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?" The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl. "So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."

A kiss can change everything. One with your best friend, and it changes the whole dynamic. What will you do when you get to know that your best friend has been in love with you? What will you do when she doesn't want to be friends anymore and wants more instead? * “Everytime I see you with a guy, my skin burns” Millie hisses, pinning me with an intense look that makes my belly flip. I am pinned to the wall with her caging me. “Do you know how hard it is to pretend that you are only my friend, and nothing more? That I love you but cannot have you?” Her words spin inside my head, and the thundering beating of my heart echoes in my ear. How do we come to this situation? I pant as she leans closer, her eyes averting to my parted lips. I am having thoughts of her. Hell, I see her in my dreams so often now that I am not sure what she means to me now. Millie caresses my cheeks and a shiver runs down my spine. “I can't pretend anymore, Grace. It's getting really hard” she whispers in my ear and I squirm. When she meets my eyes, I say something that surprises her. “Then don't.” I crash my lips on hers, crossing whatever lines we had.

Just a hug. You're running away. Gets stuck in some trouble. A guy saves your life. Who also happens to be a really famous singer. Now, What if you hug him instead of taking an autograph? What if you both feel the spark? What if you get scared? But...what if he doesn't let go? ------ "You're stuck with me, angel." Asher whistled from behind me. "You'll wish you could take back those words." I said noticing a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach as I turned and looked at him. "What if I don't?" He asked leaning quite close to me. "You will. Everybody does." I said stepping away and continuing to walk. "Even if I'll want to, just hug me and I'll stay." He said making me stop and look back at him. He winked with that breathtaking smile. "Okay, Asherboy." I said back as a smile formed on my lips too.

"Please help me, Kyle. I think a flea got under my dress while I was walking the dog. It itches so badly." My goddaughter came to me in distress after being bitten by fleas in an unfortunate spot during her evening walk. What started as an innocent request for help with the itching soon became more complicated when she insisted I needed to help her with the problem more directly.

There wasn't a package pickup station anywhere in our apartment complex. So out of goodwill, I turned my storage room into a pickup station. I took in packages, organized shelves, labeled everything, and stayed up late every night waiting for people to pick up their deliveries. Then one day, a resident showed up at my door and accused me of stealing her $3,000 gold necklace. "You signed for the delivery. Now it's gone. You had to have opened the package and swapped it out." Residents crowded the hallway, whispering behind my back. Not one person defended me. My stomach dropped. They were the ones complaining about packages getting stolen off their doorsteps. I was the one helping them. But over one baseless accusation, they turned on me instantly. I didn't argue. I just sent a message in the group chat: [Notice: Effective immediately, the One-Penny Pickup Station is officially closed. I will no longer accept, store, or manage packages for residents. Please make other pickup arrangements going forward.]