NetGalley Shelf

[ DARK ROMANCE 21+ ] "W-What are y-you doing here..." Her soft voice lets out in quiet shock. He enjoys that dulcet melody of her feminine voice, as he closed the door behind him, bolting it without looking away from her. Fearfully, her gaze trails behind him at the door before connecting with his again. She grows rapidly angered. "Get out of my room!!! How dare you?! Get out!!!" He suppresses the urge to chuckle at what he perceived as her adorable fury. Instead, he manages to grasp it with a deviant smirk. “Not unless I get what I want..doll face." "I'll scream!" She bellows, her hands clutching at the duvet around her. He strides forward and grabs the smartphone sitting atop the dresser in front of her bed. He easily slips it over the top of a high shelf, far from her petite reach. Then he turns to her and replies smoothly with a hint of derisiveness. "Scream all you like, princess...I've given the entire staff a day off.." She stares at him with the briefest of puzzled looks, and he finds her incredibly adorable in her contemplation. He felt his arousal increase and the next words fell huskily out of his mouth. "It's only you and I..ALONE.." Her innocent tourmaline eyes lock with his fervent sapphire ones. "W-What d-do you want ?" Her frightened voice barely above a whisper. His eyes rove over her figure in a degradingly suggestive manner. He provides a crude answer. "Why, of course to fūck you senseless, kitten." her face drains of color as she stares at him in repleted horror. He was unfazed by her stiffened posture and frightened expression. All he could do by his eyes was drink in her natural beauty like a man who'd gone days without water.

At our Thanksgiving family dinner, my stepbrother brought his beautiful girlfriend to meet the family for the first time. She held up her wine glass and flashed me a malicious smirk. “I heard you had a first love you can’t forget, Summer.” I kept my head low and focused on my food, unsure how to respond. After all, my first love… was her boyfriend. When I was seventeen, my stepbrother Ethan Cole tricked me into crossing the line we should never have crossed, while our parents were blissfully unaware. Even right now, under the table, his foot was rubbing mine sensually. He did not bother holding back. On the table, he held his girlfriend’s hand tenderly as he mocked me with a smirk, “You’re twenty-seven, sis. Your shelf life is running out, and you’re such a plain Jane. Who would ever want you?” I stood up abruptly and looked at him, my tone calm and resolute. “I’m married, Ethan.”

Ambelyn did something terrible six years ago. She willingly gave her virginity to the college bully who had been tormenting her because she was forced in an arranged marriage by her family to marry the son of their biggest investor. Now stuck in a loveless marriage, where she watches her husband parade his first love and their second child hurting her and her miracle baby. Her husband hated her after divorcing she wasn't a virgin, which was the main requirement for their marriage and decided to show her how worthless she was. She swallows the insult for the sake of their child, but when her husband refuses to sign the papers for their son to get surgery or loses his life, and their second child bullying her and his elder brother and wishing for a new mummy, she decides to do what she never thought and divorce her husband, granting him slow custody of the second child, while she takes sole custody of the first child. The only issue was, she started working for the Heartless Cruel CEO who returned back home after six years abroad and it was the same man who pinned her against a library shelf and deflowered her. Would Ambelyn be able to survive working under the bully who once made her life a living hell, or would she be able to find her happily ever after in the hands of someone unexpected.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

It's been five years now since Claire escaped from the man she had had a one night stand with at the bar where she worked as a bar maid. By God! the man was wonderfully made, he was the man in every girl's wet dreams. With his dark and Mysterious looks, he was still so appealing. She had decided to visit him that night to tell him she had gotten pregnant for him, But then, she got the shock of her life. Her mysterious Lover was a freaking Werewolf!!! Ever since she ran away that night, she had kept running, with his child growing in her stomach. And now she has settled down in this city, far away from Jake. Working at another bar, that she now owned. The door bell rang. "We are closed" Claire said, her back facing the door, she was arranging washed glasses and bottles of drinks on the shelf behind the bar. "I noticed" Claire froze!. She whirled around to face the man still standing by the door. "Christ!" She screamed dropping a rum bottle she was holding, which shattered loudly as it landed on the hard floor. " No darling, it's Jake" He smiled. All she could think about at the moment was "Nate" her son...Well technically their son! Will Claire be able to accept the supernatural nature of her ex-lover? And let him into her life and the life of their son..who God knows needed his father. Jake on the other hand is being hunted by a ruthless werewolf hunter who had murdered his pack...and now is after him, the Alpha. Will he be able to protect himself and the woman he loves? And what happens when he finds out he has a son, who turned out to an hybrid!?

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.