Bedside Table Attached To Bed Novels & Stories

A Wolf Hunter for a mate? What in the world is the moon goddess thinking? Cathy, a strong - willed werewolf only wants one thing and that is to manage her club. Love hurt her once and it is not on the table again. Theodore Cyneric, a hunter wants one thing, "I want you to sit on my face, Cathy." When hot and hot meet there's bound to be an explosion and an explosion is what is waiting to happen when Cathy and Theodore come together. And that is the least of their problems. Theodore brings more than his own share of heat in their unusual relationship and that means old enemies and a long and unexpected connection with a crime syndicate. Will Cathy be able to survive in the turbulence of Theodore's world and will they be able to stand the test of time?

“…I and my son wanna bend you over that stuff pier table worth $ 4.6 million and fuck the decency out of you!" Mr. Reagan naughtily rasped, with a stern grin on his face. ••••••••••••••••••••• Gabrielle's POV I was compelled to sign a sinful contract with a powerful man, Mr. Reagan, the fifth wolf. Furthermore, he forcefully engaged me to his drop-dead gorgeous son, Hidalgo Massimo Reagan. Both father and son wanna have me and they both trapped me, Caged me. Imprisoned me. And possessed me. I was more like property to them, and there was no escape! I am their adorable plaything —and they are my wildest fantasies. They are my pretty distractions. And They are my commanding kings! •••••••••••••••••

We stood across from each other, with a bed in the middle. The bed was surrounded with golden pots of burning incense, the fragrance intoxicating. On one side of the bed stood a warrior wolf from my pack, and on the other side was a vampire from Diego's pride, both present to guard us. Chairs were set in both sides of the large room, with the werewolves occupying the right side and the vampires on the other side. Everyone stood when the head witches of the three covens arrived and took their seats adjacent to the two parties. " Creatures of the underworld, we have all gathered here to witness something spectacular, something unheard of, the mating of a vampire and a werewolf. These two from both sides have claimed to be mated to each other even though they are not of the same kind, so tonight, underneath the full moon, we shall witness them in bed to attest if the Moon Goddess truly destined them for each other. Let the drums roll!", one of the witches addressed everyone. The incense had aroused us . My were hard and erect, and I could clearly see the bulge in Diego's pants as he stood across. The drums signalled us to begin the mating process, and we got onto the bed. We gently , suppressing the urge to tear each other's clothes off. I felt a bit insecure and ashamed. I could literally feel my alpha's eyes on me and could only imagine the disdain that will be written on his face. Diego's father too was watching, together with their maester. Everyone we knew was there to watch us have and I just couldn't bring myself to feel comfortable. Most importantly, I couldn't help but wonder, what if we die mating?

It began with me waking up one morning and finding myself on a strangers bed , completely naked, a sound I couldn't recognize as a scream came out of my mouth. Marry me .................

Alora is no princess and her life is not a bed of roses despite being the Alpha's daughter. Her mother hates her for being weak and been born a female. Her sister bullies her with every chance she gets. Her father is ignorant about her, turning a blind eye to everything. When her mate chooses her sister over her, she is shattered. During her mate choosing ceremony, she is drugged and ends in bed with the lycan prince of Alistar kingdom. A contract marriage, that's what he offers her in exchange of her freedom in two years. But this relationship is bound to bring more complications on her life. A second chance mate? But is there a future for them?

"To have you here in my bed with me, breathing on me, your hair in my mouth and my name leaving your beautiful lips is what I define Nirvana "

On Valentine's Day, I set up a candlelit dinner and waited. At 9 PM, my husband, Alfred Johnston, finally texted. [Something came up at work. Don't wait for me.] Then I saw her post. [On a business trip with the CEO for Valentine's Day. Every hotel is fully booked—awkward...] Vivian Bianca, his secretary. Attached was a photo of a guy in a bathrobe, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were all 'ooh, CEO's so hot and girl, you're in for a night.' Vivian? Just dropped a smug emoji. So that's what "something came up" meant—a romantic getaway with his secretary. I screenshotted it, posted it on my own feed, and added a smiling emoji. A second later, Alfred called, fuming. "Vivian was joking! Why are you so petty? She's young, not as calculating as you!" I didn't let him finish. "Then let's get a divorce. That way, I won't have to care when you screw around and catch something."

My parents' enemy kidnaps me and livestreams chopping off my fingers just to force them to show up. For a time, the entire Internet searches for my parents. But what they don't know is that the captain who appeared in the livestream is my biological father. At that moment, he's on a beach in Hashford, setting off magnificent fireworks for his adopted daughter. And on their barbecue table, the livestream of my fingers being severed is playing. Later on, when I survive long enough to be rescued, I reach out my mangled hand to touch my parents. They recoil in disgust and leave without looking back, taking the adopted daughter out for Wersole food. But they don't know that the thing hidden within my mangled palm will make them regret their actions beyond measure.

My wife, who had always despised lugging around keys, ditched our modern smart lock for a clunky old-school key version. She even bolted it shut during showers. Every time I returned from work, I'd have to ring her up first. Fed up, I slapped the divorce agreement on the table during a family get-together. Everyone assumed I was drunk and joking. My wife hauled off and cracked me across the face. "Am I asking too much? You promised you'd indulge me forever." I met her glare with icy indifference and let out a bitter scoff. "Aren't I divorcing you and never returning the ultimate indulgence?"

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.