Barely Tolerable Shirt

"Vida, you agreed to a surrogacy contract and after my master paid you, you made away with his money," I was informed. "That's not even my signature," I laughed while handing back the paper, "you've been scammed sir, now if you excuse me, I have to go home, this contract is invalid." I'm cornered to an end, my path blocked by both his arms which thump violently with veins, his breath gets as he stares closely, barely an inch away from me, and then he opens his mouth… "Mate!" ---------------- I've searched for my mate for seven years but couldn't find her, and worse, it's a hidden issue that I've failed to breed with any female who isn't my mate. I could feel us draw near to this human as I went into a rut. Why her?

I had just become an adult when my neighbor, Connor Grayson, started flirting with me. We kept our relationship a secret year after year. After a wild night of intimacy, Connor whispered into my ear that he loved me over and over again. The next morning, I could barely stand as I got out of bed. Then I saw Connor bring another woman home. "Selena, this is my fiancée. We're getting married." I thought Connor would let me go. I didn't want to ruin anyone's relationship. However, he wouldn't leave me alone despite my shameful predicament. "Yes, I'm getting married, but did I say you could go? It took a lot of effort to make you fall for me."

My husband came home on our anniversary with my best friend on his arm and divorce papers in his hand. He told the world I cheated. He took my name, and left me sleeping on the. streets with a secret I hadn't told anyone — his baby growing inside me. I had nothing. Until a great-aunt I barely knew left me a vineyard, an estate, and a second chance I didn't ask for. I was finally building something. A business. A life. A future for my child. What I didn't know was that I was surrounded by more enemies. The new man I was falling for had been sent to find me. And the man who divorced me was now fighting to get me back — because I had become the one thing he couldn't beat.

Sometimes God gave you what you want, sometimes you were born a werewolf rather than some pathetic little human, sometimes you got a chance to become a Human queen and rule both species… And, just like that, sometimes life fucked you up by letting you meet your mate whom you're supposed to reject, sometimes things get even more fucked up when your mate turns out to be a priest, the person who raised you, and sometimes your fucked up mind decided to seduce him. No, the fucked up things didn't stop yet, sometimes that person who always treated you like a child, the person who was not even supposed to touch any woman, responds to your innocent kiss by eating up your wet filthy hole as if his life depended on it as if the world is ending, and he will never get to eat again, and the thing between your thighs seems like the sweetest dessert to him. And finally, sometimes, you forget all the rules, you forget what is right and what is wrong when your miserable heart dares to yearn for someone you weren't even supposed to dream about, a saint. ••• " Remove your clothes, Freya.", he ordered in a low husky voice. But I didn't move...couldn't move as I watched him. His big body leaned over a bundle of dry grass, tight black shirt covered his hard chest, two buttons open, showing his pale white skin, his belt...now opened, slack just down enough for his dick to pop out, thick veiny shaft, wrapped under his slender fingers, its head, red as if his dick was angry. And when I looked up at his face, I couldn't believe he was the same man who raised me!

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

EXCERPT "Got you." His voice echoed above my head sending goosebumps up my spine as he pinned my wrist above my head. My pulse sped up as a traitorous and familiar heat began to appear between my legs. As if sensing the effect he had on me, his smirk widened, a devious glint appearing his his cold blue eyes. I shivered as I stared into those blue orbs that no longer held any warm affection. All that it held was raw hunger and an intense desire to possess that made me want to run. He was different. He was very dangerous. "Run again," he growled, thumb tracing the scar on my wrist—the one he’d kissed better a lifetime ago. "And I’ll chain you to my bed in the name of the man who owns you. "I’m not yours—" The rest of my words died down as he crushed his mouth to mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle—it was rough and held a lot of anger. I hated how my knees buckled. How my hands fisted in his shirt instead of shoving him away. BLURB Elena was wolfless. She was scorned, bullied, and named a jinx. She had accepted her fate and thought that she would be alone forever. Then he came. The Alpha King’s son. . He cut through her defenses and loved her like no one else did. Their bond grew stronger than any other every day, but good things never last. Dark secrets begin to get unlocked. Secrets that threaten to destroy Elena and everything that she is. Worse still, all those weapons in the form of secrets are closely related to her mate. Love turned to hate. Passion turned to fury. Will their bond, which once stood so firmly, stand the test of fate?

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

Twenty-six, brilliant, and achingly untouched, PhD student Cassie walks into the city’s most exclusive sex club because of a bet against her virginity. She chooses him blindly: a cruel Dom who drags her to the hidden chambers, spreads her trembling thighs, and takes her virginity with slow, savage thrusts while she screams. She never sees his face. She buries the memory under ambition, until her mother’s death forces her back to her home. Her brother offers her an internship with his best friend, Reginald Walker; an introverted, lethal and impossibly controlled CEO. The man whose mere presence makes her wet and reckless. Cassie pushes until Reggie snaps, chains her on the wooden crucifix, spreads her legs and fucks her till she's speaking in tongues. Despite the fact that Reggie cannot do emotions, their secret affair turns raw and desperate: His hand is always fisted in her hair, his neck filled with hickeys that his shirt cannot hide. Their love and lust is so violent it terrifies them both. Then the devil returns. Lucien is the one who broke Cassie's virginity and he recognises her one night, when Cassie moans Reggie's name at the Forbidden. He wants a taste of her again and asks Reggie to share, as sometimes they shared subs. Reggie refuses. Lucien vows to get her. When Reggie's past is dug up and dirty secrets are revealed, the trust in the relationship is broken. Cassie runs to her brother with a broken heart. Reggie drowns in whiskey and self-loathing. On his knees in the rain,he begs for her forgiveness and love. She gives it, but nothing is the same again. They start over slowly, trying to rebuild what Lucien nearly destroyed. One careful kiss, one trembling “I love you,” one fragile heartbeat at a time.

Belle Miller at twenty three decides to lose her virginity to a stranger she met via an app named sex mate. After her one night stand with Ben, she hopes not to see him again but fate disagrees and lead her to him again. She finds out he is the famous Billionaire Ben Larkson and didn't know how to feel about it. On the other hand Ben wants her and even though he believes he doesn't love her just because he isn't a romantic, he still acts possessive over her. Read through to find out how his obsession for Belle turns into love, how he falls in love with her through their lust. Teaser:. Ben finished what he was reading before giving his attention to the Mrs Johnson he was expecting. Looking up from his laptop he saw a familiar face walking clumsily to his desk, wearing a shirt and a corporate trouser, with her papers scattered in her hands. Was she the Mrs Johnson? Did she lie about her name on the app? But she looked so innocent to do that. Belle Miller, he could remember her name from that night, it had been in his head all through Sunday. If she was the Mrs Johnson, then she was married, did she really make up a name? But then again, she was a virgin, he was her first, so she probably was a new bride. With all this thought on his mind, he just sat there gazing at her in shock. Did she use him? Did she use him to get her one night fling before beginning her married life? 'She was married.' It couldn't be, he wanted her again in his bed, he wanted this woman and she was married!

My company had arranged a wilderness survival retreat deep in the heart of Moonshadow Forest—a place where even seasoned wolves tread cautiously. That night, a sudden downpour ripped through the campsite, drenching the earth and filling the air with the thick scent of damp moss and shifting soil. I woke abruptly, the cold seeping into my bones. Instinctively, I reached out to the space beside me, seeking the warmth of my mate. Empty. A sharp pang of unease clawed at my chest. My wolf, dulled by the suppressant herbs I had taken to blend into human society, stirred restlessly. Fumbling in the darkness, I grabbed my phone and dialed Nigel. The line barely had time to connect before he emerged from the undergrowth—disheveled, breathless. His grip was iron-tight as he seized my wrist, pulling me downhill. His scent was sharp with adrenaline, but beneath it—something foreign, something wrong. We ran, my boots sinking into the mud. My keen vision caught glimpses of his rumpled clothing, the way his collar was misaligned—and the faint imprint of lips on his jaw. My pulse pounded in my ears. Betrayal. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, my claws itching to unsheathe despite the human form I forced myself to maintain. "Where were you?" My voice came out low, edged with the danger of a wolf barely leashed. The suppressants in my bloodstream faltered under the weight of my fury. The storm had driven everyone into their tents, leaving the clearing eerily silent as we reached the base of the mountain. But she was there. A woman stood beneath the flickering glow of the emergency lanterns, her hair tousled, her fingers gripping Nigel’s jacket as if it belonged to her. I knew her. The new intern. Her face held an unsettling resemblance to mine, as if the Moon Goddess herself had carved her from the shadows of my reflection. The realization struck like a silver dagger to my chest. Even the mate who had once sworn to fight the world for me had given in to betr