Calloused Conscience

Kael Silvenia is more likely to be called an orphan. He lost his father at the age of 16 and it is not hidden from his knowledge that his mother had another man when his father was still alive. To make things even more complicated, it got worse when his father passed away. Her mother left him and eloped with another man when he turned eighteen. But even with that fact that her mother abandoned him, he couldn’t dare to loath her. So when the news came to him that his mother had been raped by the man she eloped with and was found thrown into the abyss, his world really collapsed. It's like life really played tough on his part when a fact emerged from her mother's autopsy result that apart from her male partner, there were nine other accomplices in the rape of his mother. Due to the trauma suffered from the findings, after a year of grieving, his mind made an action. It made a different persona. Timothy. His dark persona who is so much far from his weak personality. Timothy searched for the man who caused his mother's death but unfortunately the man is already dead. The only remains he got that has a big involvement on the man's life is a photo of his daughter when he went to the suspect's abandoned home. He found out that the assailant had been separated from his wife and daughter for a long time, so the only picture it has for its daughter was only twelve years old. That's when he decided that he would make sure the man would regret what he had done to his mother. He must have his revenge! Timothy looked for the girl on the picture and not long after, he found a match. Her name is Yngrid Angelique Villegas. As what the assailant did to his mother, Timothy raped Yngrid who was only twenty years old that time. The woman can't do anything but pity herself when he claimed her repeatedly. But despite Timothy's wickedness, Kael's personality prevailed when tears blurred the woman's eyes. He pulled himself together to stop Timothy. Conscience struck Kael's system. He started to investigate the girl's background. To his shock, his conscience swallowed him even more when he realized that Timothy had just mistaken the woman. She's not the daughter of his mother's rapist. He was even more conscientious when it became clear that even the business of Yngrid's parents was also sabotaged by Timothy. Due to lack of ways on how to approach Yngrid's family, he used the company's crisis as an opportunity to offer the Villegas a contract. All the terms that are stated in the contract are in favor of Yngrid's family. But there was only one thing he could not understand on himself. Why did he include in the contract that the woman must marry him?

“No man will ever want you, Olivia.” He said, his gaze raking over her like she was something pathetic. “Look at you. You let yourself go. Face it, you should be grateful I’m even offering you this.” An open relationship. After he cheated. After she sacrificed everything for him. Olivia should have cried and begged. But instead, she smiled. “We’ll see about that.” And hours later, she found herself tangled in silk sheets, gasping for air as a rough, calloused hand gripped her thigh. “He said no man would want you?” He thrust harder into her. “Good. That means you’re mine now.” ************ He broke her heart. His best friend will fix her. When Olivia’s husband proudly admits to cheating and has the audacity to suggest an open marriage, she realizes the man she gave up everything for never truly valued her. Once a sought-after model, she quit for him. Now, he mocks her, calling her fat at a size six, sneering that no man will ever want her again. Humiliated but furious, she’s determined to prove him wrong. And the man who takes up the challenge? Dante Devereux, her husband’s best friend. Dante is the genius behind Luxe Devereux. He’s called the king of high fashion, draped in money and luxury. Women worship him, men envy him, and cameras can’t look away. One reckless night pulls Olivia into his bed, into his world of luxury, lust, and temptation so dark it should be illegal. But Dante doesn’t just take. He claims. He possesses. He corrupts. And he has no plan of letting go of his best friend’s wife.

Iris Maeve Hanson is a thousand-year-old tribrid running from her demons. So, when the heart-throb Dragon Alpha Alfonso Dominic McBlaze, who has been waiting a thousand years for his fated mate sets his eyes on her, all he sees is a wilding who doesn't look like being capable of ruling the shifters which is Dom's future. He asks his men to find everything about her with every intention to reject her. But what he finds about her, changes everything. With a newfound purpose in life to protect his tortured mate from her Psycho Werewolf Foster-Brother, finding no way out, Dom kidnaps Iris and brings her to his family castle. How will Iris take the news of a mate, when she has a huge secret weighing on her conscience? How will Dom help Iris heal mentally from a millennium of PTSD? Will their love survive when the villain is relentless and no moral boundary holds him? Is The Final War inevitable? * Read the unveiling of the deepest, darkest secrets as the past comes knocking on the door. Ride along on this crazy ride of supernatural animal shifters surrounded by vampires in a world of witches, magic, humans, werewolves, and most important of all DRAGONS! A ride of revenge, conspiracies, love, desire, passion, pleasure, pain, paranoia, and secrets. ~~TRIGGER WARNING!!!~~ This book may contain elements of war, torture, PTSD, and depression. It has some descriptions of gore, murder, sexual innuendoes, and psychopathic behaviors. Proceed with discretion.

**+21 Contenu explicite, tabou et addictif.** Vous allez le regretter. Et pourtant, vous en voudrez encore. Elle gémissait, même quand elle savait que c'était mal. Il serrait plus fort, tirait plus profond, et elle en demandait davantage. **Tabou : Liens & Péchés** vous entraîne sur des chemins où le désir a un goût de péché, une odeur de cuir, un son de chaînes et le poids de noms qui ne devraient pas se trouver dans votre lit. Ici, le plaisir est brut, interdit, chaud comme du fer rougi. Ce sont des récits qui mêlent soumission et pouvoir, sang et luxure, liens physiques et émotionnels, des corps qui se reconnaissent même quand le monde dit qu'ils ne le devraient pas. Frères. Beaux-pères. Professeurs. Élèves. Chaque histoire est une invitation indécente, et vous allez l'accepter. Ce recueil n'est pas pour les faibles. Il est pour ceux qui jouissent avec la conscience sale, le corps marqué et l'âme en flammes.

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Past trauma and revenge. Explicit sexual content. NB: Any resemblance to a real person or actual event is purely coincidental. —----------------- “I’ve been jerking to your photo every night for five years,” Tristan's calloused hand guides me along his crotch. “Aren't you happy to see me, Bunny?” “You murdered my father. Broke out of jail. Shot my fiancé at our wedding altar.” My voice flares. “Happy to see you?” “Because you’re the love of my goddamn miserable life,” he seizes my chin, forcing me to meet those frosty, possessive eyes. “The moment you said ‘I do,’ you became mine. You bear my hickeys, my ring, and my name. And it’s our wedding night, Husband.” Who chains their husband naked and dangles him from the top of a skyscraper on their wedding night?! Death isn’t romantic. I’m not a masochist. So why the fuck is my cock hard? Tristan grins, “Still lying to yourself?” I bite down on his lips. He doesn’t flinch even as blood trickles out. “Say that again and lose your tongue.” His grin widens with bloodied teeth. “Right, you're not into men… just me.” —------------- Tristan ‘Mad-Bishop’ Alister got busted by the Feds and locked away for five years. Now, he’s back to claim his obsession: Carlton Dickson. Tristan isn’t just Carlton’s captor. He’s Carlton’s former step-father, and their connection is more taboo than their forbidden affair. As Tristan serves justice to those who destroyed him, using ways that would make the devil shiver, Carlton is trapped between hatred and a dark desire he can’t escape. Can Carlton survive the truth of their relationship to each other? Or will they burn in the flames Tristan’s lit to consume everyone in his path?

"I knew; I married you on condition!" He hugged her behind, wrapping his hands around her waist. "BUT YOU ARE SOMETHING." He turned her back and pressed her against the mirror, placing his hands on either of her sides and caging her in his arms. "I AM ADDICTED TO YOU!" He looked down at her lips before pressing her lower lip between his fingers. A pleasurable moan escaped from her mouth and she closed her eyes, while making him groan "I thought I'd never love anyone again in my life, but you changed me." He lifted her head, taking her chin in his calloused hand. She shivered in response, and her heart started pounding into her ears. His eyes are darkened with a mixture of feelings. She can't help but notice him. He is 190 cm tall with broad shoulders and a muscular body and his flat abs are touching her body, which is giving her goosebumps. The lean angle of his cheekbones and his strong jaw looked like they could have been sculpted by an artist. She is placing her hand on his chiseled chest, feeling his abs and the warmth of his body spreading through her body as he is standing between her legs. "Your scent makes me crazy!" He bent down, whispering in her ear while biting her earlobe before her cheeks in his hands. It's been a couple of months since they got married, even though she feels shy under him—her fingers are tracing down on his biceps. He grabbed her hair, taking her lips into a chaste kiss. Jenny was a babysitter of the twins of Williams, but one day her boss proposed to her for the marriage to became the mother of his kids. How will she fulfill her husband's desires and journey with twins?

"Help me tighten this?" Her voice trembles as she turns her bare back to the doorway. Calloused fingers brush her spine – but it’s not her stepmother. It’s Asher Voss, SU’s star quarterback and her new stepbrother, smirking in the mirror， "Next time you mistake me for Mom..." His breath scorches her ear. "...I’ll leave a real mark." To survive the sweltering New York summer before college, Wendy Wu makes a deal with Asher: Act like strangers once school starts. He’ll remain the untouchable quarterback; she’ll be just another exchange student. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Ever. But when her father’s long hauls and her stepmother’s busy schedule force Asher into babysitting duty, the lines blur: In the kitchen, he catches her weeping over a shelter documentary and lifts her against his sweat-drenched chest. Garage doors rattle open – his grip tightens: "Hold on. Unless you want them to see you like this." At a party, her friend spots a cherry hair tie on his wrist before he drags her into a dark hallway: "You didn’t want to see me?" His whiskey-laced kiss brands her lips. "Yet your eyes undressed me all night." In a restaurant, a rival girl glares through the window. He traps Wendy’s thigh under the table， "Call me ‘brother’ and I’ll save you."  Their secret collapses. Wendy ends it, and he freezes her out in public， "Do I know you?" Until a rain-lashed night when Ahser, drenched and desperate, pins her to the wall， "Don’t tell me you do not regret the breakup" His teeth find her collarbone. "I have to admit it-- I miss you." Can a love forged in stolen touches survive the spotlight? Or will their step-sibling bond shatter them both?

During the Labor Day team retreat, I had booked out the entire top floor of the Grand Summit Hotel. Yet, when my fiancee, Serena Wagner, found out, she was enraged. "Matthew Grant, are you out of your mind? Spending over 800,000 dollars to rent a place for one day? Since you're so rich and have nowhere else to splurge, just let me help you spend it!" Then, she called over our intern, Dylan Foster. She pointed at him and started yelling at me. "He only makes 6000 a month as an intern. Why don't you give him this money instead?" I looked at my colleagues standing nearby, their faces clearly uncomfortable. I replied calmly, "His salary isn't low compared to industry standards. Besides, the team-building budget belongs to everyone. Why should I give it all to him?" However, the moment those words left my mouth, Serena exploded. "I'm your finance director and your future wife! Of course, I get to control where your money goes. If you don't agree, then let's call off the engagement!" With that, she stormed off with Dylan. I silently picked up a bottle from the floor and poured myself three glasses. The first glass was for her, for being with me through the first half of my life. The second glass was for me, for having a clear conscience in this relationship. The third glass was for both of us. I wished us well as we parted ways and moved on with our separate lives.