Contos sobre Steamy e Romances com Devotion e 18+

I'm a killer who accidentally sleeps with a mafia boss twice. The first time, I walk away without saying anything, leaving behind nothing but a note and a bank card. "Fantastic night. Thanks." The second time, he lands himself at the top of the killer hit list and has a sky-high bounty placed on him. Later, he traps me in his room as I fade in and out of consciousness, drowning in his presence. He holds my hand and aims my gun at himself with a chuckle. "You're shaking so badly. Can you even keep your gun steady?"

My dad called me right after I got paid. He said my little brother needed money for school, Grandma had medical bills, and there was still the rent, water, and electricity. Then, at the end of the call, he admitted he’d lost money gambling. I sat in the security booth, rubbing my bad leg, completely lost for what to do. A car horn blared, and I quickly raised the security bar. Just one look and you could tell how expensive the car was. It belonged to the boss, who had a thing for amputees. Damn it.

My husband Preston smashed up the solo art show I'd spent three years building for Vivian, the poor girl we had sponsored through college. "Chloe! What the hell did you send Vivian?!" "She read your goddamn text and suffered a depressive episode! She nearly jumped off the rooftop!" I looked at his furious face and the whole thing struck me as absurd. "Preston. What exactly did I send? I told her that today was the opening of my show and asked her not to call you during it." "She's sick! Why do you have to make every little thing a fight! If anything happens to her because of you — I'll never forgive you." With that, he didn't even glance at me. He turned and bolted back out into the storm. I didn't cry. I didn't even have the energy to be furious. I turned to leave, but in the rain, I ran into Rowan—a classmate from college. He used to be the most popular guy at our school — sweet and hot. But now he was severely injured. The torrential rain had soaked his shirt, revealing his perfect abs beneath. Without hesitation, I took him back to my apartment. Preston showed up pounding on the door, eyes red with rage. "Chloe — I'm gone for an hour and you drag some guy off the street into our bed?" I sneered and stepped in front of Rowan. "If you can play free therapist to some other woman, why can't I try being a philanthropist?"

I had been living in my new apartment complex for less than a week. For the past few days, strange packages had been showing up at my door. Every time I opened one, I found another kind of "toy" inside. There were vibrating toys, remote-controlled devices, and even realistic adult toys. You name it, they sent it. Sure, I had a weakness for that kind of thing, but I hadn't ordered anything lately. As I tried to figure out what was going on, a friend request popped up on my phone. The moment I accepted it, a video came through. A man's long fingers toyed with a flesh-pink dildo. His deep voice was full of teasing amusement. "Can that basic toy really satisfy your insatiable mouth? Why don't I train you instead?" My face burned with humiliation and anger. I forced myself to stay calm and typed back. "Sir, if you keep harassing me, I'm calling the police." He clearly didn't care. Instead, he sent me another video. A flushed woman sat on a couch, gripping a dildo as she moaned with pleasure. I froze. That was me. The footage had come from my own security camera! That bastard had hacked my camera and stolen a video of me masturbating. Before I could recover from the shock, my phone rang. It was him. His deep voice carried a lazy hint of amusement as he said, "Tomorrow night at eleven sharp, your training begins."