Bedside Table Attached To Bed

The pills I keep by my bedside have been swapped with vitamins. I almost die after getting a heart attack. After the stent surgery, I ask my husband, Evan Whitmore, to find out who did it. I just want the truth. However, he doesn't even look up and just brushes me off. "It was just a mistake. Cecilia probably grabbed the wrong bottle. She bought those vitamins for me. "Don't push this. She has asthma. She can't handle stress." I stare at him in shock, my chest tightening. I can't tell if the pain is from my healing heart or from the words he just threw at me. Cecilia Monroe is his secretary, and he always takes her side. That moment is when I realize that our five years of marriage mean nothing to him at all.

A high school girl leading a very simple yet happy life. When she met someone very intresting. Having feel attraction towards each other quite fast they start dating. Their love life continues as they face some problems coming their way, A simple life, but interesting how strangers become attached to each other having no idea what the future could bring.

“Please…please…don’t….” My breathing heavy and loud, were I aggressively gripped on the table not wanting to let go. He was fucking inserting it, and hitting it in the right spot, I fucking enjoyed it when he fuck me in this position, bent fully on the table with him banging me from behind. “You fucking girl.” He slapped hard on my ass that it immediately had my pussy convulsing with squirt. None stop he was ruining me from that angle whereas I was trying to hush down my voice, after all we were in his office. How scandalous would it be if someone should find us like this, me half naked with my professors pants dropped to the ground, were his dick was connected to my pussy from behind. “Ahhh….Mr Grey” I choked on the moan, Christian had his hand on my neck pressing me harder on the table, I couldn’t even breathe with the amount of pleasure he was bloating me with. Yeah, I was fucking my professor, an aspiring nun was committing such a brutal sin in her professors office. He turned me into this sex animal who was at his beg and call. Did I enjoy it? Yeah I fucking loved it but it was soon going to get me ruined, sooner then I expected.

To save her mother's life, Annika agreed to marry her boss, Caspian Timothy Ferrer, in exchange of a huge amount to finance her mother's operation. They signed a contract, and one rule was made, “No strings attached". What happens when they start breaking the rule they made to make way for the unfamiliar feelings arising in them? Will Annika finally have her happy ever after, or will she stay as his wife in Contract?

A NOVEL ON STOCKHOLM SYNDROME BOOK 1 OF A THREE BOOK SERIES *TRIGGER WARNING* This book contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing… and also slightly annoying. “Miss. Iris, do you believe she has a point?” she asked and returned to her seat once again. “I don’t think so, her father and uncle deserve to go to jail.” My answer extracted a smile from her like she was proud of my response. “My name is Christine; I am a renowned medico-legal psychotherapist. Been in the business for over twenty years and that is what a case of Stockholm syndrome looks like. In my years of experience, we see situations similar to this but its our job to help the victims realize” “Wow…” I started, really amazed at what she had said and what her work entails. I was only concerned why they locked me in a room with a psychotherapist “it must be difficult at times” I added. “yeah, its difficult every time” she laughed “but today isn’t about me, I have a question for you.” There was a brief pause in between before she carried on “Does Hunter deserve to go to jail?”

After I fell while pregnant, my six-year-old son, Nico Bertelli, did not come to help me. When I woke up, the baby in my belly was gone. At my hospital bedside, Nico hid behind my husband, Roberto Bertelli, and mumbled, "Mommy, I thought you fainted on purpose to get my attention. You've pretended to pass out a few times before just to stop me from going out with Ms. Pelosi." Roberto chimed in coldly, "You're always pulling tricks to get attention. Nico doesn't even trust you anymore. You need to take a hard look at yourself and figure out why he prefers being around Martina Pelosi over you." I was completely heartbroken. The day after I was discharged, I went home, packed up everything that belonged to me, and left behind only two documents: a divorce agreement and a letter terminating my parental rights.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

“I need this job, Ralph, and I’m willing to do anything to get the job, I mean anything you want.” I told him, walking over to his side and sitting on his table, spreading my legs to give him a good view of my thong. “What makes you think I would fall for this cheap act of yours, what makes you even think I’m interested in your body?” he asks me, his eyes fixed on my cleavage. “I know you like me, Ralph, you can’t take your eyes off my body, I see you drooling when I walk by and I know you want more of me. Besides, how can you not want more when you’ve had a taste of me already. You popped my cherry, remember?” I asked him, putting my legs on his armchair, fixing my eyes on his. “Fine, you win, you got the job, goddamit! Just get out of my office before I do something stupid.” He yelled at me, pulling his hand through his hair in frustration. I smiled excitedly as I jumped down from the table, heading for the exit. “And Victoria, ”he called out to me as I opened his office door. I turned with a raised brow praying in my heart that he doesn’t change his mind. “Be very careful around me, I can be very dangerous when provoked. This emotional blackmail won’t work on me all the time. The next time you try to seduce me again, I won’t hold back, I would screw you right here on the bare table,” he warned me sternly. I know that was meant to sound like a threat, yet I moaned at the thought of him bending me over on his table and screwing my brains out.

“It’s our anniversary today. I planned our day together,” I declare. “I have work to do,” “But I asked your PA to clear your schedule for the day,” “That’s the thing. You made plans behind my back without talking to me about it first, Ariel,” He then walks past me and walks out of the closet. “I thought I was doing something nice for you – for us at least. You have always worked so hard, so at least take this day off with me. We never got to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” I rebuke. He decides not to say anything. He opens his bag on the couch facing our bed and takes out a white A4 envelope, tossing it on the little table in the middle of our room. “Is it so hard for you to read the room all the time? How would you celebrate a wedding anniversary when there is no love between us? Are you not tired of all this pretence because I am!" He chastises. "That’s for you. Sign it so that we can get it over and done with,” With that said, he puts on his black sunglasses and walks out of the room. Only then do I breathe out the air I didn’t even know I was holding. I’m confused and, most of all, hurt. I didn’t see this coming. I drop my eyes on the envelope with bold printed letters of the name of the law firm our lawyer works at.

I bought red lingerie for a boy who didn't want me. Found him in bed with my best friend instead. I ran straight into Cain Russo. My enemy. The boy who humiliated me at fourteen and never lost a second of sleep over it. One night of rage and bad decisions later, we had a secret I planned to bury. Then our parents got married and he moved into the room next door. Now he watches me across the dinner table like he's already won something. Because he's had a taste and he hasn't forgotten it. So he made me a bet. Three orgasms. Ten minutes. If he wins, two weeks of me. Anywhere. Anytime. No exceptions. If I win, my freedom. I should have walked away. I didn't. He doesn't want my heart. That would be too simple. He wants to take me apart completely. And god help me, I'm starting to want that too. Stepbrother. Enemy. Obsession. Warning: This book is explicit. We’re talking filthy, enemies-who-hate-each-other-but-can’t-stop touching, wall-slamming, hair-pulling, name-screaming explicit. If you blush easy, this isn’t for you. If you don’t — buckle up, because Cain Russo has zero restraint and even less patience. 18+ only. You’ve been warned.