Boyfriends Webcomic Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Teasing me now, Elena…?” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through my entire body. “I’m not one of your scrawny little boyfriends, Elena.” “When I fuck you… I will fuck you through and through.” My breath hitches, heat explodes beneath my skin. “I’ll breed you so hard,” he promises, eyes burning into mine, “your fiancé will know.” “And your body… will never forget.” Spanish heiress Elena is innocent, loving and sweet, she wants one thing: her mother’s love and a real bond with her half-sister. When that sister betrays her and sells her to a criminal ring, Elena’s world fractures. She is rescued by the ruthless mafia boss Massimo Ponteza, a man who has been watching her even before she knows his name. Just when she begins to believe she is safe, Massimo flips her life over. he is Obsessed with her and he is dying, he claims her for himself, forcing her to stay with him. She never planned to fall for a man like him, not when she is betrothed. she is supposed to hate him. She never planned to be pregnant with his twin babies . She doesn't sees it coming. The moment he stands at the altar, about to marry her conniving half-sister. He is the ruthless and powerful mafia don. Power is all he knows. Control is all he trusts. From the moment he saw Elena, he could feel his control slipping. But the more she fractures his control, the more dangerously he wants her. All of her. When betrayal bleeds into war and family turns into enemies, the choice becomes inevitable. Will he choose her over blood and honor? This book contains adult language, violence, and sexually explicit scenes that may be considered offensive to some people.

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.