A Little Death Lyrics

When Matteo Ricci threatens to end our engagement for the 100th time unless I take Lydia Capone's place in the famiglia's drug trial, I don't cry or make a scene. I just sign my name on the engagement termination agreement and calmly hand over the man I've loved for eight years to my twin sister. A few days later, Lydia storms the mafia summit like she owns the room, insulting the Pirelli family and daring anyone to stop her. I'm forced to step in and bear the full weight of her chaos. And now they're saying Lydia's body can't handle the trial after all, so they want me, the older sister, to take her place. The moment I agree, my parents smile at me for the first time in years. Even Matteo, who barely notices me, hovers nearby and murmurs, "Don't be afraid. The trial isn't lethal. When you get out, I'll take you for your favorite spaghetti alla Napoletana." But he has no idea that there's a late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis tucked inside my pocket. No matter what horrors the trial holds, he will never witness me walk out alive.

“If you want me to keep your secret, you have to do one thing for me in exchange,” he said, his lips curled up slightly. “What thing?” Aurora narrowed her eyes, alarmed at the direction of the conversation. “Never never share the same bed with my brother,” he demanded, his alpha dominance rolling off him in waves, making her want to bare her neck for submission. But Aurora straightened her back and challenged him head-on. “Why? I’m his wife,” Aurora stated with a neutral expression on her face. She and her husband were a fake couple, but he didn’t have to know that. The fewer people who knew, the more favorable the situation was to her. “I’m supposed to…” “You are mine!” he released a deep guttural growl. The possessiveness shown in his words and eyes made Aurora both startled and baffled. He stalked to her in calculated steps, his eyes glinting with a deep well of want and desire under the moonlight. Aurora started to retreat cautiously until her back hit a hard wall. In a flash, he was in front of her, his arms resting on the wall beside her head, caging her. He was so close to her. Too close. His lips almost touched hers. A smell mixed of rain and pine forests invaded her nose, making her dizzy. Her wolf perked up. Aurora quickly cleared her senses. “I’m nobody’s woman,” she declared, locking eyes with him. But she quickly regretted it because who wouldn’t lose herself in a pair of deep blue ocean-like eyes on a face carved out by the Moon Goddess herself? “Want a bet?” he smirked, “One day you will be mine.” The audacity of him!

WARNING: This book contains a bit of disturbing scenes, non con, and strictly 18+. So proceed with caution, especially if you get triggered easily. After being rejected by her mate because she was an omega, Zora was betrayed and accused by her sister of being a witch, which was an instant death sentence in Shadow Pack. Zora, oblivious to the fact she was pregnant, escapes death to the human world where she meets her husband to be. On her wedding day, her mate appeared by the entrance abducting her from her wedding. How long can Zora keep her children a secret when the Alpha is rumored to be cursed and is obsessed with her? Can she protect herself from him? Most importantly, can she protect the Cruel Alpha from himself?

It was never the intention of Raphaela "Ella" Morales to die clumsily by crossing the highway to her favorite coffee shop and inadvertently crashing into a fast-approaching truck as a result. She was never suicidal and she loved living on Earth with her loved ones. But then the accident happened and all of her aspirations and goals in life were crushed in an instant. The handsome, dark, and hooded grim reaper named Eric was waiting for her after she died. Ella decided to take her chance and tried to convince him to let her live for the second time, and she succeeded. In return, she needed to give herself to him forever, even after death.

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

What if you really were transported to a fantasy world and expected to kill monsters to survive?No special abilities, no OP weapons, no status screen to boost your stats. Never mind finding the dragon's treasure or defeating the Demon Lord, you only need to worry about one thing: how to stay alive.All the people summoned form parties and set off on their adventures, leaving behind the people who nobody wants in their group.Story of my life, thinks Colin.

On the fifth year of our hidden marriage, I died on the operating table of a hospital belonging to Allen Jones. Before I died, I called him ninety-nine times, begging for help. The last time, he finally answered. His voice was heavy with impatience. "Enough already. First, it's pregnancy, now it's liver cancer. Can you stop making a scene? I'm exhausted from work. "Mia, when did you learn to lie? Do you know how disgusting you are right now? "I'm warning you—if you keep this up, I'll divorce you. Don't even think about coming back home until you admit you're wrong." But this time, I could never go back. Just before the call ended, I heard him comforting Sadie with a gentleness he had never shown me. "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be over soon, and you'll be fine. Once you're out, I'll take you to see your favorite movie and eat at your favorite restaurant. I promised you, and I'll make it all come true." After he hung up, I called him for the hundredth time. He didn't answer. Later, when Allen saw my body on the operating table, he broke down completely.

⚠️ WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content. If you are under 18 or uncomfortable with steamy, erotic, forbidden, or taboo themes, kindly exit now. "I'm sorry, but I now have a girlfriend", Eric said. " Just fuck me tonight Eric, please ", " Just tonight ". I cried. Lola, a college professor, just got dumped by her no-strings-attached sex buddy, Eric. She's pissed, frustrated, and painfully horny. Back in her office, she flips lazily through student assignments, the task was simple: *Write a short romance story of your choice.* But one freshman, Noah, took it way too far. Instead of a harmless love story, he wrote out his filthy, unfiltered fantasy. About her. His professor. Dive into Noah’s bold approach, Professor Lola’s burning curiosity, and a collection of sizzling short erotica that push every boundary. -------------------------------------- This book contains a collection of different short erotic stories.

Atenea, a young woman of captivating beauty, displays an innocent face that could easily be mistaken for that of an angel; however, don’t be deceived, for behind that appearance hides the very devil in a small body. She accepts Valentino Rizzo’s marriage proposal—an ice-hearted businessman—bound by the obligation to save her father’s nearly bankrupt factory. When the young Russian sets foot on Italian soil, she comes face to face with her future husband’s mistress. One might think that the fragile girl would cry over a future with a fiancé who has another woman, but… —“You’re my fiancé’s woman, you say?” —she removes her sunglasses, a gentle smile curving her lips—. “Nice to meet you, I’m Atenea Volkova, the future wife of your man. Sorry… our man.” In contrast, a husband with a cold and unyielding heart, who constantly shows her his disdain and openly professes his love for his mistress, becomes astonished when he discovers a small detail that binds him to his tiny wife. Love arises, grows, multiplies, but at some point, it must perish, for Atenea Volkova is not willing to give her heart to any man. It was a promise made on her knees before a grave, where her fragile heart was buried for life. Can true love bloom between a heart of ice and another cracked and closed to the feelings of love?

I thought Christmas had already broken me. Betrayal, loss, and a miscarriage that shattered everything I’d built. So I did the only reckless thing a heart in ruins could do: closed my eyes, jabbed a finger at a map, and bought a ticket to wherever it landed. No plan. No hope. Just a wounded heart running from the wreckage. I wanted quiet. Snow. A place to breathe and heal. I found him instead. A man who feels too wild for this world, all heat and muscle and dark, hungry eyes. He kisses like he’s claiming something. Touches like he’s learning every secret my body holds. His strength borders on impossible. His presence, addictive. He calls me his naughty little Christmas gift. And every time he drags his mouth down my throat, I forget every reason I had to stay guarded. But the deeper I fall, the stranger things become. The room around him feels alive. The night listens when he speaks. His eyes flash with an animal glow that shouldn’t exist, and the sound he makes when he’s holding back, low, guttural, trembling the air between us doesn’t belong to any man. I should run. Ask questions. Save myself. But I’m far too gone. Even willing to be ruined by whatever he is. So I ignore the question whether I’m losing my mind, or whether the fear curling beneath the heat is real. And let him keep unwrapping me like the gift he thinks I am. Because whatever lives inside him…it’s the first thing that’s made me feel alive again.