Batman Suit

Raina Cole doesn’t believe in love not after being left at the altar by the man she thought she’d spend forever with. So when her ex invites her to his wedding, she does what any humiliated woman with money and pride would do; she hires the most dangerous man she’s ever met to play her perfect boyfriend. Gorgeous enough to make her ex choke on regret. Aiden Cross is exactly that man. Sinful. Silent. Addictive. Only he isn’t what he seems He’s not a date-for-hire. He’s an assassin sent to end her life. But the closer he gets, the harder it becomes to remember which side he’s on.

“Tell me you hate me, Victoria,” his voice rasped as his hands slid beneath my skirt, “and I’ll stop.” But my moan betrayed me before my words even could but I still couldn’t let him win. “I hate you,” I whispered, even as my nails dug into his shoulders. He only smirked, dragging me against his hard length pressing into my belly. “Then hate me with your legs open, sweetheart. Because you’ll never hate me enough to stop wanting me.”Prosecutor Victoria Harper hasn’t felt wanted in months. Her fiancé, a rising politician, parades her like a trophy for his campaign but behind closed doors, he starves her of affection and feeds her bruises instead. Then a cruel twist of fate changes everything: she’s pregnant. And the father isn’t her fiancé. It’s Christian Malcolm, her high school bully turned ruthless mafia heir, the very man she’s been building a case to destroy. He’s dangerous. Possessive. Addicted to claiming her and the child growing inside her. And no matter how much she hates him, no matter how fiercely she vows to take him down, her body betrays her with every forbidden glance, every stolen touch. Now Victoria is caught between justice and desire; between the oath she swore to uphold and the man whose kiss sets her on fire. But what happens when the enemy she’s sworn to ruin is the only one who makes her feel alive? ⚠️ Content Warnings: Contains themes of abuse, coercion, emotional manipulation, dark romance, and mature sexual tension. Recommended for readers 18+.

" Believe me, Hazel, I never for once stopped thinking about you " he breathed in my ears while thrusting into me " ahhh...hhh, fuccckk, Dunlop " I moaned ***************** The day Hazel divorced her billionaire husband after she found out that he cheated on her with her best friend was the same day she found out that she was pregnant. She decides to move away from her billionaire husband to a new city to raise her baby. She found a new job, a new life, a new everything. She even starts an affair with her billionaire CEO boss. Everything goes well until her little boy brings a friend back from school who happens to be the son of her ex-husband. Which of the billionaire men will Hazel choose? Will she rekindle her love for her ex-husband or will she continue with her boss who was always there for her? Will her son's friendship with her ex-husband's son cause problems?

Contents of this story includes explicit sex scenes, and if it doesn't suit you, avoid reading! Tales of iniquity draws you closer to the sex life of the characters in the book. Including- BL, GL, MM, BB and all manner of forbidden romance. Beware!

“Is Batman my daddy?” my son Jackson pipes up from the back seat. Of course not! But telling him that his father is Asher Giordano, leader of New York’s deadliest mafia empire is out of the question. He found us anyway. “What have you done with Jackson?” I demand. “My son?” Asher asks calmly, looking around my small apartment disdainfully. “The one you’ve been hiding from me and forcing to live in this…pigeonhole?” Our son, not yours. “You’re the one who left me at the alter without as much as a ‘see you later’. If you left me a forwarding address to contact you at, I must have missed it.” Asher regards me coldly. I don’t know this man. The boy I fell in love with was warm, giving and open. This man in front of me is frostier than the arctic with his glacial eyes. “I know you know who I am and what I’m capable of, so don’t try anything stupid, Emmeline. There’s nowhere you can run where I can’t find you.” “Gosh, Asher, that’s like a line straight out of a movie. Have you been practicing delivering it in front of a mirror?”

What can a mother do for the sake of her daughter? " Take it off, your suit!", Asher summoned Max when he accidentally splash water on her uniform. "What?---I---ahhh--", she stuttered. Max has no escape. How can she do it if she's not a guy? Read to find out more.

Spending the last night of my vacation by partying and drinking into oblivion was the highlight of my master plan. Waking up, in my birthday suit and tangled up in the sheets with a sinfully handsome stranger was definitely not. Curious? Then I have to disclose about how I met him in the first place. Beware, you are all in for one hell of a delicious ride.

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.