Bared To You The Book Novels & Stories

“I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention Baba, I truly am. Please can you teach me about Morpheus?” I hoped my apology and pleading would work as it usually did without fail. My father clearly couldn’t pass up an opportunity to lecture me on his favourite topics so he set down his red pen and grabbed a thick, leather bound book from the bookshelf, placing it down on his desk with a resounding thud. The spine of the book crackled as he flipped through the pages, his fingers finally coming to rest on a page entitled “The Oneroi”.

Chapter 47 Esmeralda Russia was beautiful. I was yet to learn the language and I would. "Can we go the other side please, handsome please?" I begged Brian and he glared at me. "Just this side and we're fucking done here, si?" I nodded, and we walked to the other rack. It was a book rack. I grabbed a book and my eyes widened seeing what it was for. A smut book. "Didn't know you loved to read these." Brian said, a smile on his lips.

“But leave some of Daddy’s cum inside you. I want you walking around all day feeling exactly who you belong to.” I shivered with fresh arousal. “Yes, Daddy.”

Francesco My hands trembled as I placed them on The Black Book. This isn't going to be easy. But I have to do it. I sucked in a sharp breath and flipped open the cover. Deadly Sins. Wild Secrets. Mafia Rules. Do You Dare To Enter? A chill ran down my spine. What the hell does that mean? I swallowed hard and turned the first page. Nothing. A frown creased my forehead. I flipped to the next. Still nothing.

Inside the Archive, the shelves moved with my breath. I passed by a book bound in velvet dusk. Its title: The First Time You Chose Softness Over Safety. Another: How You Loved When No One Was Looking. I reached for a third. It burned with light before revealing its name: What You Became When You Stopped Trying to Be Understood. I wept then—not from pain, but from reunion. The guide touched my shoulder. “There’s one more,” they said. They led me to a door I hadn’t noticed.

On the cover was the word, “Bitten” Raven opened the book and felt a surge of power. The pages looked empty at first but a flash of light lit up behind every word as they appeared. This book had been enchanted. “This is from your father’s library. It contains the tale of the child born of the Bitten and the Born.”

I snapped confidently. “Really?” Bryan asked gazing around and I nodded in confirmation “Okay if you want me to believe that this book is yours and you write everything that is inside, Tell me anything significant in your life that you wrote in this book and I will confirm if it is the truth and that will tell me if you truly own the book” Bryan make a deal and I nod. I crossed my arms, my face set in determination. "Open to page 16," I said, my voice firm. "There's a poem there I'm going to Recite it."

“Yes sir!” the men replied. Once more, Zephyr laid his eyes on the books, his gaze rested on one of them. The book was covered in a layer of dust and was made of bamboo. It looked unique. “Thunderfoot?” Zephyr muttered as he opened the book, reading its contents. A wave of excitement washed over him. He excitedly flipped through the pages, carefully memorizing the technique’s intricate steps.

"It's Uncle Kramer's house, so no offense is taken. What are you reading anyway, at night? Sone steamy CEO romance? Or cute girl's exaggerated first kiss?" "Shut your weird mouth," she scolds lightly, then shows him the book cover. Mahone glances at it and reads the title loudly, "The New Orleans Voodoo Handbook. What_ you're practicing black magic now?" "Whatever," she says, widening her eyes. "Hey, hey! Why are you undressing in front of me? I can be your buddy, but you have to remember that I'm a girl, too!" she covers her face with book. "So what?" he throws the shirt on the chair, showing his perfect six pack abdomens, smirking at her shyness. "I know you don't have bad thoughts about m

“It’s a blessing, Kylo. Seeing the world differently than others is a gift.” I opened the book in my hand. It was colored white without a title or an author. There was nothing on its cover, so it intrigued me. “Being an author doesn’t suit you,” she said. “They don’t have to call me that. I’d prefer to be called the bearer of truth.” The first page of the book says, for the lost souls. It was creepy, yet it made me want to read more. The second page says Non audent aperire. If only I didn’t ditch Latin class, I would’ve known its meaning and avoided the worst-case scenario.