Ask Me A Question Novels & Stories

He destroyed her life in a heartbeat. Now he wants her heart to beat for him. On her wedding day, Elena Robertson wore red for love. It ended in blood. Her parents, slaughtered before her eyes. Her fiancé, gunned down with a smile on his lips. Her freedom, stolen by the man who thought she was someone else. Thorne Del Roi. The Mafia King feared across continents. Cold. Merciless. Godless. He took everything from her to avenge a crime she never committed. He broke her, used her, poisoned her soul with vengeance. But truth cuts deeper than any blade. Now, the devil who destroyed her is the only one who can’t stop craving her. Not for her body, but for the heart he never meant to feel beating in his chest. And Elena? She wants to hate him. She should hate him. But what do you do when your enemy becomes the air you breathe? He’s power. She’s fury. He’s fire. She’s the match. And when love ignites between them, it won’t just burn, it will explode. So much twist you can't imagine. Dive and enjoy the ride.

Madeline Crawford gave Jeremy Whitman everything. Twelve years of love, loyalty, and quiet devotion, and he repaid her with a prison sentence she did not earn. She watched him fall in love with another woman through the cold glass of a window she was visiting. She swallowed her tears every single night in a six-by-eight cell. She learned, slowly and painfully, how to rebuild herself from nothing. Five years later, she walks back through Havenport's gilded doors not as the broken girl Jeremy once discarded, but as a woman the city will not soon forget. She has money now. Connections. A plan. And a rage so cold and precise it could cut glass. She is going to ruin every single person who helped put her there, starting with Jeremy Whitman himself. But then something goes wrong. Jeremy stops being the enemy she remembers. He becomes something far more dangerous: a man who is sorry. A man who is fighting for her. A man who, in front of the entire city, drops to his knees and kisses her feet and says, 'Madeline, I was wrong to love another. From now on, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.' And Madeline looks down at him and feels nothing she expected to feel. She says, 'I will only forgive you if you die.' What she does not say is this: she is not sure she means it anymore.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

The General Assembly, Recalling its relevant resolutions regarding the question of Palestine, Recalling also its relevant resolutions on the protection of civilians, including resolution 71/144 of 13 December 2016 on the status of the Protocols Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and relating to the protection of victims of armed conflicts, resolution 72/131 of 11 December 2017 on the safety and security of humanitarian personnel and protection of United Nations personnel and resolution 72/175 of 19 December 2017 on the safety of journalists and the issue of impunity, Recalling further the relevant reports of the Secretary-General, including the most recent report, of 14 May 2018, on the protection of civilians in armed conflict, Recalling all relevant resolutions of the Security Council, including, inter alia, resolutions 242 (1967) of 22 November 1967, 338 (1973) of 22 October 1973, 605 (1987) of 22 December 1987, 904 (1994) of 18 March 1994, 1397 (2002) of 12 March 2002, 1515 (2003) of 19 November 2003, 1544 (2004) of 19 May 2004, 1850 (2008) of 16 December 2008, 1860 (2009) of 8 January 2009 and 2334 (2016) of 23 December 2016,

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

If the idea of the man who should protect you instead pinning you down and claiming every hole makes you squirm, close this book immediately and find something tame. But if your panties are already soaked and your pulse is racing at the thought of forbidden hands on your body… then spread those pages like a good little slut and keep going. This isn’t sweet. This isn’t slow. These stories throw innocent young women straight into the fire—defiant brats broken by the commanding cocks of their dominant stepdads, possessive stepbrothers, hungry step-uncles, dominant fathers-in-law, reclaiming ex-dads, and their father’s best friends. Expect rough throat-fucking that leaves mascara running down flushed cheeks. Expect tight virgin asses stretched wide and pounded mercilessly. Expect fertile little pussies pumped full of thick, risky creampies while they growl filthy promises: “Daddy’s going to knock you up, princess. Fill that womb until you’re carrying my baby.” Sneaking around while Mom sleeps down the hall. Risky quickies that could get them caught any second. Blackmail, power games, and total surrender. These alpha men don’t ask—they take. They train eager mouths, claim every hole, and mark their territory with load after load of hot cum. Breeding. Deepthroat. Anal. Degradation. DDLG. BDSM. Raw, unprotected taboo fucking that leaves trembling thighs sticky and minds completely wrecked. If the thought of being owned, ruined, and bred by the men who raised you makes your cunt clench… welcome home, babygirl. Your men are already hard and waiting.

“Oh yes, Daddy, just like that!” That was me crying from the computer; slowly I turned to look to see if there was a video when I was met with Daddy's cock. He had shoved down his pants, and oh my god, it was just as beautiful as I imagined. Thick, hard of cum that made me wetter. I just wanted to get on my little knees and suck it dry. "I've been jerking to your videos.” He groaned, his hand now slowly running through his beautiful cock; holy fuck, it made my tits hard. Hearing that he's been jerking to my videos and that he's been recording me secretly, creepy in a way that made my clit twitch.

The church was full of different kinds of majestic decorations. A theme of white and gold, the color that is perfectly expressing both purity and prosperity. Indeed, it is really f*cking wonderful. But then... On this fre*king wonderful day who would have thought that a mere guest like me who was forced to attend this d*mn wedding of my damn stepsister will become the bride??! “She is right here. The… bride is here. We shall start the ceremony, Mr. Morgan” “Is it her?” “Y-yes. She is the one you will marry.” “Wait what, me?!”

Josie Jackson, who had been cold to me for ten years, suddenly changed her attitude. Not only did she take me on a worldwide trip, but she also personally cooked a lavish dinner for me. I thought our relationship had finally improved, but little did I know, she had put an excessive amount of sleeping pills in the food. I was taken to the hospital, where I was forcibly castrated without any anesthesia. By the time I regained consciousness, I saw Josie and her so-called brother close together. "Josie, you're so good to me! I only mentioned being envious of Andrew's health. I can't believe you actually emasculated him all for me." Josie's expression remained calm. Her eyes were filled with nothing but affection for Alex Carter. "This is what he deserves. If it weren't for him back then, you wouldn't have been in that accident and ended up with a physical disability. "I'm only returning what he took from you." Ten years ago, during an earthquake, I gave up saving Alex and chose to save her instead. So she took all the pain Alex suffered out on me. Since I felt guilty, I endured her torment for ten years. This time, I finally gave up. After finding out I didn't have much time left, I called my mother. "I agree to the heart transplant for Robert."

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