Cab Driver In Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

TEASER SCENE Her back hit the wall, legs wrapped around him as he slammed into her— deep and brutal, ripping a strangled moan from her lips. She clawed at his shoulders, but he pinned her wrists with one hand, the other gripping her throat, controlling every gasp. “Look at me,” he growled, fucking her harder, her pussy walls fluttered helplessly around him. “Now come while I’m still inside you,” he ordered. Her body obeyed instantly— shaking, gushing, and screaming. “Good little whore,” he growled, still fucking her through it, never slowing. “You’ll come again.” And she knew she would— whether she could handle it or not. **** This isn’t romance. It’s raw, reckless, pulse-pounding filth. A collection of forbidden encounters, from ruined vows, to messy secrets, and bodies that should never touch— but did anyway. Men who treated desire like a weapon. Brides who forget their vows on purpose— offering their necks instead of their hearts. Powerful men who don't ask… they take. Every story drags you to the edge, pushing your thighs apart, and makes you watch as pleasure destroys sanity— ONE BRUTAL ORGASM AT A TIME! No apologies. No morals. No happily-ever-afters. Just sex— wet, dirty, desperate, addictive. Are you ready to get fucked by fiction? 18+ ONLY | Extremely explicit content, taboo themes, possession, obsession & shameless pleasure. Read with a towel… or a partner.

Ariana Delaney, a middle class girl who went about her daily life with little or no excitement to it but all that is about to change when she finds out that she has been arranged to marry into the most famous and absolute richest family in the state and that too to the breadwinner. Damien Kingston, a young business tycoon, a billionaire and a force to reckon with in the cold world of business needs a simp for a wife just to keep up appearances and Ariana seems to fit into the description but he sure is in for a surprise. Follow these two as they weave through their relationship fully aware that they are from two entirely different worlds. Maybe there'll be a happy ending or maybe not. ~~~ He watched like a hawk, eying her every move hoping to swoop in at the right moment and catch his prey. Her smile, her hair, her innocence and of course, her curves. Those curves could have any man turn in her direction and it sure did. He couldn't let her go, she couldn't have been who he thought she was. No, maybe he wasn't in love with her but he sure knew one thing, she was his and his alone. ~~~ She watched his as his beautiful eyes swallowed her up. This man was beautiful but she couldn't fit into his world. It was too much for her and she just had to admit it into herself. It was never going to work.Disclaimer:This work is purely a work of fiction and any similarities in names and characters are purely coincidental. The sequel is up: Meant to Be HIS. Check it out❤️

Drenched in mud, I've just climbed down the scaffolding and started munching on a cold piece of stale bread when a luxury car speeds past me, effectively drenching me in muddy water. The car window on the driver's side is quickly lowered. A sleazy guy hurls a pack of cigarettes in my face the next moment. "Hey, peasant! This is a reward for you! I got really lucky today, after all!" While I pick up the cigarette pack silently, the man happens to be boasting loudly to the woman sitting in the front passenger seat. "My brother-in-law really is an idiot! He seriously thinks that my sister has a terminal disease! He went to the black market last night night just to sell his blood in exchange for 200 thousand dollars' worth of surgical fees! I end up winning double in the casino with that money of his! "My sister told me that once that idiot gets his hands on the work injury compensation, she'll divorce him right away and buy me a new home!" I grip the bread so hard that it crumples in my hand. After all, my wife, Estella Wilson, was just diagnosed with "late-stage stomach cancer" yesterday. Suddenly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It's a voice message from Estella. "Hubby, it hurts so much going through the chemotherapy! The doctor told me that I'd be eligible for better medication if we could cough up another 200 thousand dollars. Can you please plead to the foreman and borrow some money from him?"

The ambulance that's carting a pregnant woman is currently racing down the highway. The pregnant woman's water has already broken, which means she's in a dire situation right now. As I clutch the steering wheel tightly, I make sure to press the gas pedal all the way to the maximum. But the hospital director, Corey Johnston, who has tagged along for the ride, suddenly issues an order. "Pull up at the rest stop ahead." I'm momentarily stunned by the order. But I soon protest anxiously, "The patient can't afford to wait at all! She and her baby might die anytime soon!" Corey merely waves a hand impatiently. "Who's the one calling the shots here—me or you? I've been dabbling in the medical world for 30 years! As if a driver like you know better than me!" Thinking that Corey needs to go to the bathroom urgently, I soon park at the rest stop. But I witness him strolling into a supermarket leisurely, only to come out with two huge bags of snacks a long time later. "I bought my daughter the local specialities. She loves snacks like these the most." As Corey speaks, he tosses the snacks and his phone onto the front passenger seat. His phone screen flickers to life due to an accidental contact, which reveals the wallpaper of the lock screen. It's a photo of Corey and his daughter. I frown at the sight as my breath hitches in my throat. Why do I have a feeling that Corey's daughter looks quite similar to the pregnant woman in the ambulance right now?

Gabrielle ran from her wedding to Jared… and woke up wearing Damon’s ring. He’s cold, wealthy, and dangerously irresistible — a man who swore he couldn’t feel anything. Until her. She’s the runaway bride he turned into his wife. Now she’s trapped in his penthouse wearing his shirt, his ring… and maybe, just maybe, teaching him how to feel again. ⚠️ CONTENT WARNING This story is intended strictly for adult audiences aged 18 and above. The book explores passion, desire, power, and emotional conflict, delving into the complexities of love, lust, and control. It features dark romance elements, including manipulation, obsession, dominance, moral ambiguity, toxic dynamics, and unhealthy relationships portrayed solely for plot purposes. These themes are not meant to be romanticized, endorsed, or implemented in real life. Readers should expect graphic sexual descriptions, BDSM, explicit language, and mature emotional themes, as well as elements of dark humor, identity crisis, childhood trauma, and emotional numbness. Due to the intensity of these topics, reader discretion is strongly advised. This story is written for entertainment and storytelling purposes only. The author does not endorse or glorify harmful behavior. Copyright © 2025 by Siemuri Daniella. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental. BOOK 1 of the Veins Of Darkness Series — interconnected standalone dark romance novels. BOOK 1 – Accidentally Married to the Billionaire Single Dad BOOK 2 – Forced Marriage to My Mafia Ex-Boyfriend BOOK 3 – Coming Soon BOOK 4 – Coming Soon

I was an orphan being adopted by a simple family. My dad was a driver of a very powerful businessman. My mom was one of their maids. She was in fact their lady butler. This family with gazillion bank accounts had an only heir, drop dead gorgeous young billionaire, Albert Michaels. He was always the talk of the news both in mainstream and social media along with either a popular pop star diva or a hubristic socialite with voluptuous body and kittenish voice. I, Samantha Reynolds, one of their servants had been stealthily trailing him since the day that I stepped in their grand top of a kind living room. His stone cold aloof aura as he stared at me everytime he caught me gawking at him made him even more attractive and charming than he already was. Till one rainy night, a magical or should I say disaster happened. Arriving at home late and intoxicated while I was busy wiping the glass tea table, he was almost dropping himself on the cold marble floor. Guiding him towards his room, his heaviness was weighing up my petite body. Till we both dropped on his king sized bed with me under him. His glassy eyes tingling my long time desire. His warm rims made me want to wrap them with mine. Till time stood still as the rain continued pouring engulfing the atmosphere with its coldness while him covering me with his burning libido. As we both reached the top, he called a name, ''Madeline!'' D*mn!

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

“Is this a…contract?” “It has everything you would need if you want to go on dates with me for the next couple of weeks. From the times you can call me to the days I would not be available to pick up calls or even respond to text messages no matter how urgent they are. There’s also a number of locations we can have our dates and another number of places I would never set foot in. Things you can talk about and things you should stay out of. There’s a detailed list of questions you can ask me there and an even more detailed list of things you should never mention. It’s not too much. All you need to do is go through it, sign the contract and we’re good to go. I’ll text you the dates and locations of our dates and have my driver come pick you up.” Emily was bewildered. “You’ve got to be joking.” ——- Emily Stark was given a choice- to either get married to a billionaire she had never met her entire life in place of her sister who had ran away in fear of getting married or somehow find a way to pay her parents’ debt of thirty million dollars in a day. She is immediately stuck at a crossroad but knows she has no choice but to succumb and get married. After all, it was just marriage? How much complicated could it be? Well, unless your husband to be is a cold ruthless billionaire who only cares about his work and has absolutely no interest in you. And to make it worse, thinks marriage is nothing but another business deal. A contract to be signed and simply gotten over with with time.

The most popular girl from my high school is getting married. She invites everyone in our class to the wedding. I want to act like I don't see the message, but she deliberately tags me in the group chat. "You kept pretending to be a rich girl like me in high school, but I don't hold it against you. In fact, I'll allow you to attend my wedding tomorrow to see what the rich life is like." The other classmates speak up. "You're so generous, Haley. It's no wonder you can marry someone from the Baumer family. I can't believe you can even forgive someone as materialistic as Emma!" "Does someone like Emma Larkin even deserve to attend Haley's wedding? She's so full of herself." As the insults become worse, Haley Stockwell steps forward to keep the peace. "Come on, let's put this behind us. I'm not bothered by these things since it's been so long. Anyway, let's not bear a grudge against Emma when she's already so poor and ugly." Everyone in the group chat starts singing her praises and calling her kind and innocent. I sneer. Haley is the one who kept pretending to be rich—I'm the true heiress from an affluent family, yet she made me out to be a liar. She turned me into the target of everyone's insults. I check the digital wedding invitation to see that the venue is my villa. The groom looks familiar—isn't he my husband's driver? I smile at the thought of what's going to happen. I reply, "Sure! I have to attend your wedding!"