Bedroom Besties 소설 & 이야기

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

*** “Get back here Bella. Do not even try because you can't get away from me, and do not let me catch you myself.” “I don't want to have anything to do with you," she retorted angrily. “Oh, sweetheart, that is totally on you. Do you know how long I have been invested in you?” “You kidnapped me and brought me here. I don't want to be here and I'm not letting you touch me," her voice was so strong. He loved her challenge: it only made him harder. "Me touching you is definitely happening. You absolutely can't resist it for too long: you can only enjoy it now,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. With that, he quickly ran around the kitchen counter and caught her. “Got you… You can't run away from me Bella; no matter how hard you try I will always find you. “Let me go… now,” she shouted. “Not when I'm still breathing baby, you will love every single thing I do to you” he carried her over his shoulder to the bedroom… At a young age, Mirabella Antonio lost everything. Her parents died suddenly in a car crash. They died with a debt tagged to their names. A year later, her older brother, David was murdered in cold blood, trying to keep her safe and pay off the debt their parents owed. And the man at the center of it all was Hunter Groves. Four years later, he saw her again. He wants her. And Hunter doesn’t ask. He only takes. She opposed him in every way possible but he took her in every way possible. He is determined to imprint himself on her body and soul and that he did. Note; Dark romance; Male lead is a totally obsessed psychopath. ***Trigger warnings***

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

“Tell me again,” he murmured, his bare chest a hot, dangerous brand against her back. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, making her shudder. “How you want me to treat you.” She clutched the silk sheets, dragging them up to her chin, hating the tremor in her voice. “I—I want you to be professional.” A low, dark laugh ghosted over her damp skin. “Then stop looking at me like that.” His amused, arctic-blue eyes held hers captive in the bedroom mirror. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering what in the world she’d gotten herself into. ^ ^ ^ Isabella Rossi’s life shattered when she discovered her boyfriend’s affair with her best friend, Chloe. The happy couple were even expecting a baby, and she was supposed to be happy for them. Hah. Heartbreak was just the beginning. Drunk and deceived, she woke up in the bed of a powerful, enigmatic stranger—Vincent Sinclair. She thought it was a one-time, humiliating mistake. A secret she would bury forever. Until Monday morning, when Vincent Sinclair strolled into her office as the new, ruthless CEO. And she found out he was her ex-best friend Chloe’s half-brother. Flustered but confident, she met his eyes. Men like him didn’t remember girls like her. She was sure of it. He was most likely just an entitled playboy and the faces in his bed probably blurred. But oh, how wrong she was. Vincent Sinclair remembered everything. Finding his "one-night stand" playing the part of a forgettable employee was his new favorite amusement. First, he made her his personal secretary. Then, he made her life a living, tempting hell. Finally, he served her a contract. Not for a raise—for marriage. It was absurd. But with her life in shambles and his offer too lucrative, Isabella signed.

Late one night, as I scrolled through social media, I came across a relationship influencer with over a hundred thousand followers, teaching men how to "control" their wives. "She actually tried to talk to me about privacy?" he scoffed. "I ignored her for three days, and she handed over all her passwords, crying and begging me not to leave her." The comments exploded almost instantly. The chat went wild. [Take me under your wing, man!] I felt sick to my stomach. Then, without warning, he lifted his phone and pressed a kiss to the screen. A face appeared in the reflection. Mine. Smiling, he turned back to his audience of thousands. "See this? This is the perfect wife I spent three years training." A chill ran through me. I clicked into his profile and scrolled all the way back to his first post. The upload date was the same day we got married. He claimed he was filming prank videos and that it was all just for the livestream—no wonder he got increasingly out of hand. That was when it hit me: he had been lying to me all along. From the moment I stepped into that marriage, I had been nothing more than his experiment, his content, his source of money. Fine. If that was the case, then I would turn his livestream into his worst nightmare. I picked up my phone and sat directly beneath the camera he had installed, then sent a deliberately suggestive message to another man. Three seconds later, the bedroom door burst open. Matthias stormed in and snatched my phone. After reading the message, his lips pressed into a tight line. However, he did not explode. He did not even look at me. Instead, he turned, opened his livestream, and faced the camera. "Send something through, and I'll show you exactly how to put a cheating woman in her place."

"Spread your fucking legs for Daddy…" The moment those growled words hit my ears, my thighs trembled, going weak at the knees. I swallowed hard, my throat dry with envy, aching to be the one spread wide and commanded by that deep, dominant voice. Heat flooded my core, soaking my panties with slick arousal, my pussy clenching desperately around nothing. Like the foolish, needy girl I was, I nudged the door open just a crack, peeking into the dim light of his bedroom to see who he was claiming on that massive bed. But shock slammed into me—Alpha Kane wasn't with anyone else. He lounged against the headboard, his massive hand wrapped around his thick, veined cock, stroking it slow and firm while his piercing eyes locked on a spread of my photos scattered across the sheets. Pictures of me in innocent poses, but the way he pumped his shaft, pre-cum beading at the tip and dripping down his length, turned them filthy in his gaze. **** I'd been just ten when rogues tore through our pack in a brutal war, slaughtering my parents and leaving me orphaned in the blood-soaked ruins. Alpha Kane Laskovic had charged in like a storm, ripping through the attackers with savage fury, saving me and the survivors. He became my guardian, my armored knight, pulling me from the ashes and raising me under his powerful protection. I was supposed to call him Dad—respectful, safe. Not Daddy, not while fantasizing about him pinning me down, growling filthy commands as he fucked me raw, claiming every inch of my body as his. But gods, I couldn't stop. The taboo hunger burned too hot, making me crave his cum flooding my womb, marking me as his forbidden little slut.

I should have been walking down the aisle. Instead, I was running through the woods in my wedding dress. The white fabric caught on every branch, tearing apart like my life. My name is Camela Siegel. My father is the Mayor, and he sold me to save himself. Vincent Castellano was supposed to be my husband. They call him the Mad Prince, but I learned he’s so much worse than that. His hands trembled when he touched me—sometimes gentle, like I might break, and sometimes rough, like he wanted to overpower me. “You’re mine now,” he’d whisper in the dark corners of that house. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to hurt you but me.” I tried the door handle every day for three months. It only turned from the outside. When help finally came, I thought it was over. I thought I could go home and pretend none of it ever happened. I was wrong. Vincent found my journal—the one where I wrote about him, about what he did to me, and about who he truly is. Now he’s not just keeping me locked up. He’s hunting me. They call him “The Fox” for a reason. He’s patient and waits. When he catches what he’s after, he never lets it go. I can feel him watching me even now—through my bedroom window, from across the street, in the shadows where I can’t see him but I know he’s there. My father thinks making that deal saved his life. He doesn’t realize it destroyed mine. Vincent said he’d keep me until the last day of my life. I’m starting to think that day is coming soon.

Crystal Vale learned one thing growing up: visibility was dangerous. So she disappeared—behind thick glasses, baggy clothes, and the careful art of being forgettable. No one knows she hides a secret. Beneath the plainness is a woman so stunning she could stop traffic. But she buried that woman years ago. Standing out only brought trouble. Then she saved a billionaire's grandmother, and her invisible life ended. Ethan Vale is cold, ruthless, and devastatingly handsome. He married Crystal for one reason only: his grandmother's inheritance. To him, she's a transaction. A placeholder. The invisible wife who cooks his meals, waits up at night, and loves him quietly from the shadows. He never looks at her. He never sees her. He has no idea his plain, forgettable wife is hiding the face of a goddess. For one year, she endured. For one year, she hoped. For one year, she loved him in silence, believing that maybe—just maybe—he would eventually see her. He never did. The breaking point came the night his ex walked out of his bedroom and Crystal's world shattered. That night, she finally understood the truth she'd been running from: she could love him forever, and he would never, ever see her. Turns out Crystal isn't nobody. She's Crystal Laurent. Heiress to an empire that makes the Vales look like peasants. Daughter of the most powerful family in the city. The lost girl who was stolen twenty-three years ago—and never stopped being searched for. Now Crystal has a name she never knew. A family more powerful than Ethan could ever imagine. And a decision that will shake two empires to their core. Ethan Vale threw away his invisible wife without a second glance. But Crystal Laurent? She's going to make him remember her forever. Even if it destroys them both.

On the day I discover that Ignazio Corelli, who is my husband and the Don of the Corelli famiglia, is cheating on me for the first time, I file for divorce and buy a plane ticket to leave. But he locks me in the master bedroom of the villa for five days and uses up three whole bottles of lubricant. After that, he explains with a helpless expression, "Carlotta, my enemies set me up and drugged me. That's why I spent one night with Chiara Linetti. You have to forgive me." The second time, I see him accompanying Chiara to a prenatal checkup at the hospital. Once again, I ask for a divorce. His eyes turn bloodshot as he pins me against the wall. "Honey, if you want a divorce, it'll only happen over my dead body. You have to trust me. Chiara is a spy my enemies planted. I need to keep her under control and make her my double agent. "It won't take long. We just need to wait until after she gives birth. I swear that once the time comes, I'll send her away immediately." But later, Chiara suffers a miscarriage. Everyone suspects that I am secretly responsible. Chiara grabs my throat like a madwoman and shrieks, "If you're angry, take it out on me! Why did you have to harm my child?" Even Ignazio looks at me with heavy disappointment in his eyes. "I told you to wait a little longer. Why did you have to make a move against my child?" With that, he orders his men to lock me in the basement where he usually imprisons his enemies. "You can come out when you've truly reflected on your mistakes," he says. Curled up in a corner, I send a message that will erase itself once it is read from my phone. I write, "Destroy all records of my childbirth. Once the paperwork is complete, take me and the child away."

**WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT 21+** + + My name doesn't matter. My filthy urges do. I came home from work. The bedroom door was half open. My husband was there, pounding into some woman on our bed, his cock slamming in and out, deep and rough. I should have screamed. Instead my pussy clenched hard. I stood frozen, watching every thrust. My hand slipped under my skirt on its own. Fingers circled my clit as he fucked her right in front of me. He glanced over. “You like watching my cock stretch her?” I rubbed faster. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. Then I came shaking, eyes locked on him pounding her. *** 69 Dripping Fantasies is sixty-nine raw taboo stories. Wives catching husbands cheating and getting soaked instead of angry. Step-family secrets whispered in quiet. Glory holes that fill fast. Honeymoon wife swaps sparked by one dumb dare. Older rich men taking total control. Professors crossing every forbidden line. Husband’s best friends sneaking in. Strangers who follow, then fuck hard. Group nights in dark clubs. Cucks cleaning up every last drop. *** I’m on my knees. One thick cock buried deep in my throat, making me gag. The woman behind me squeezes my tits until it hurts so good. Her tongue between my ass, teasing, no cock has filled my pussy or ass yet. But I’m trembling, dripping, seconds from squirting everywhere. Two massive black cocks wait their turn, and her presence makes it filthier… hotter. I never knew I craved this so badly. *** No soft romance. Just dirty yeses where no should be. Sixty-nine stories. Sixty-nine surrenders. Read if you’re brave. These pages might leave you wet, jealous, horny… or secretly think of your own filthy fantasies when nobody’s watching. Reader discretion is strongly advised.