Boyfriend Of The Dead 소설 & 이야기

I'm five months pregnant. One day, I leave the house to do some grocery shopping. As I wait at a red light, I see a woman kiss my husband. I follow them in shock, snapping to my senses when I hear the screeching of a car's brakes. I get into an accident and end up comatose, losing my child in the process. Not only does my husband not care for me, but he even has his lover move in with him proudly. The moment I wake up, they panic.

"She's mine. Of all the storage rooms in all the world, she has to walk up to mine. Even when she can't see me, she senses me. And every time she runs away from me, she ends up coming into my arms. She'll be punished. Then, she'll understand. Once a Lycan finds his mate, nothing in this world, nothing supernatural or human, will stop me from making her mine." My boyfriend isn’t human, not completely.
 He's a werewolf. To be more specific, he's a Lycan- the werewolf royalty. For over three hundred years, his family had one purpose in life. Find me, the only female born to be his. But there's only one problem. I'm a human being. The instinct of lust and desire bonds us together, but the strings of life keep tearing us apart. The impossible cross-species love. The extravaganza of life. Two restless souls. So close, yet so apart. When love becomes a curse, nobody is supposed to get out alive. But we will survive. Because lovers never die.

I was sent to a correctional facility by my family for five years. The first thing I learned there was obedience. If people told me to do one thing, I would never dare do anything else. The day my wife, Casey Anderson, came to pick me up, she stood at the entrance and said coldly, "If you dare say another bad word about Roger, I'll make sure you never speak again." The moment she finished speaking, I turned and ran straight into traffic. When she saw me get thrown by the impact of the car, she nearly lost her footing. At the hospital, my foster brother stood beside my bed with a sinister smile. "So you actually managed to survive. But that's fine. I have plenty of ways to kill you and make sure you never make it home." After saying that, he smashed the bowl of porridge onto the floor, then deliberately fell onto the shattered glass as he cried out loudly, "Bobby, if you hate me that much, I'll leave! Please, just let me go!" My mother and Casey happened to walk in at that exact moment. Casey immediately rushed over to help Roger up. My mother, meanwhile, slapped me hard across the face. "You'll never change, huh? If Roger's hand is ruined because of you and he can't play the piano anymore, I'd rather see you dead in this hospital bed." Obediently, I walked toward the window and jumped. The harsh, sharp-tongued woman who had always been my mother—and Casey as well—went completely pale with fear. I happened to crash onto my father's car. Trembling, he threw open the door and shouted for the medical staff. My consciousness gradually faded. Then, a system suddenly appeared and said, "Congratulations, Host. You have completed ninety-nine tragic storylines. Finish this final one, and you will be able to return to your original world and revive your younger sister."

Laura was a successful lady, but she didn't count marriage as something Important In her life, but she started facing family gathering oppression, and being single at thirty-four turned Into a mockery In all the social gatherings she attends, Laura decided to rent a boyfriend named Clifton to accompany her to the kid's sister's wedding To avoid mockery, Laura and Clifton later got along, let's read on and understand how Laura and Clifton first met before Laura seize the opportunity to rent Clifton to a wedding party, and what later happened to them,

My wife, Christine Leigh, forced me to the brink of death all for her first love, Henry Carson. To give him a liver transplant, she sent me to the surgery table. I told her I had cancer and that the doctors had advised against the surgery. She just looked at me with an undisguised contempt, "Jason Lowe, stop with your petty tricks. Don't forget, you owe our family your life!" I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. I never left the surgery table.

Raisel Alaric Warden, a devoted wife, loves caring for her husband, Alaric Warden, a millionaire businessman at Warden Company. They fell in love in college and have been happily married for three years. However, Raisel’s world was shaken when she discovered that Alaric had feelings for Davina, his secretary, from their university days. Though initially unworried, Raisel noticed Alaric’s growing absence at events. At a social gathering, Raisel’s best friend, Hazel, noticed her solitude. “Why are you by yourself?” Hazel asked, handing Raisel a drink. “Alaric was busy,” Raisel replied, masking her unease. As they spoke, Raisel saw Alaric with Davina, their affection evident. When Davina kissed Alaric’s cheek, causing a stir among photographers, Raisel’s heart sank. “What is this all about?” Raisel asked, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Raisel, but I want a divorce. I love Davina,” Alaric confessed, as tears filled Raisel’s eyes and cameras flashed around them. Overwhelmed, Raisel fled, only to be caught by strong arms—those of Soren Dalton, her best friend and billionaire businessman, whom she hadn’t seen in five years. “Soren,” Raisel whispered. Understanding the situation from a video his bodyguard showed him, Soren’s expression turned cold, his glare fixed on Alaric, Davina, and the paparazzi. “Remember in college, when I pretended to be your boyfriend to keep other guys away? Let’s do that again,” he whispered in her ear. Torn between the past and present, Raisel looked between Soren and Alaric, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

Bryony Adams is destined to be murdered, but fortunately Fate has terrible marksmanship. In order to survive, she must run as far and as fast as she can. After arriving in Seattle, Bryony befriends a tortured musician, a market fish-thrower, and a starry-eyed hero who is secretly a serial killer bent on fulfilling Bryony’s dark destiny. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Kat Donovan is at the lowest point of her life: she didn't get her promotion, she's never dated a decent man ever, and she's pretty sure she just spent a few thousand bucks drowning her sorrows in a Vegas strip club.The cherry on top? It's also the last day of her life.Death's at her door, figuratively and literally. One of Hell's Punishers is coming to take her away, to an afterlife full of torture and torment. But of course, with the help of some miracles and her ever-steady fighting spirit, she manages to escape its sneaky clutches.And that's how Kat discovers that the Punisher is not anywhere close to what she thought it is.First off, the Punisher is actually the most drop-dead gorgeous guy Kat's ever seen. Two, the 'miracles' that saved her life are not miracles, but clues to the mystery of her origin, to which the Punisher holds the answers. Three, due to some unfortunate events, their paths are now intertwined—for better and (mostly) for worse. And four, their adventures might just open the mystery of life, the wonders of existence, and the endless possibilities of new love....

My estranged husband suddenly barges into my parents' home, demanding to know where I am. He forces my mother to her knees and pushes my paralyzed father to the floor before beating him up. He even renders our four-year-old son half-dead. Why? Because his true love is disfigured and needs a skin graft to restore her looks. "Where is Victoria? She should be honored that she can do this for Amelia! Hand her over, or I'll kill all of you!" It's too bad I've been dead for a year.

Mmm, fuck… That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend fuck me instead?