Cat Noir Cataclysm Novels & Stories

A Twisted Dark Romance | Urban College Drama | Erotic Coming-of-Age Story. 18+ Read this book to see how Quin went from watching her roommates make out to partaking in all forms of forbidden and dark sex because she just wants to get laid. Her hand gripped the doorknob so tightly her knuckles turned white. Quin knew she should leave. She should back out into the hallway and pretend she had forgotten her key, anything to erase the image of Mara’s head thrown back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream as Jade’s tongue worked her over or the sight of Marcus’s rod. But her feet were rooted to the spot. A heat, unfamiliar and intense, bloomed in her lower belly. She had read about this, but seeing it, the wet, slick sounds of Jade’s mouth, and the way Mara’s fingers clawed at the sheets and the way Marcus dick stood erect, was something else entirely. Then, Mara’s eyes snapped open. They locked onto Quin standing in the doorway. There was no shame in that gaze, only a dark, heavy-lidded amusement. "Well, well," Mara gasped, her voice breathless and ragged. She didn't push Jade away; instead, she tangled a hand in the brunette's dark hair, pressing her face harder against her cunt. "Look what the cat dragged in." "Quin," Jade purred, crawling up Mara’s body to nuzzle at her neck. "We were just talking about you. wondering if you’d ever get that stick out of your ass and join the real world." she glanced at Marcus too who nodded his head. Quin’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "I... didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go." Ohhh, she didn’t go, she joined in and got initiated into dark sex.

"Do you miss me Bella...mia" She could recognize that voice even in her sleep. She stood frozen looking at him with wide eyes. "W..what.." she tried speaking but immediately closed her mouth breathing hard. She glared at him HARD while a handsome smirk appeared on his face. "What the hell are you doing in my house?!" she said,his eyes moving across her body especially on her exposed legs. He suddenly stood on his feet and she moved back, his presence affecting her. "What happened to your elbow" he asked. That was actually the first thing he noticed when she stepped out of the bathroom with a red towel wrapped around her tiny frame. "Why should I tell you that. I owe you no explanation" She said feeling uncomfortable under his scrutinized gaze. He took three long strides towards her before pinning her to the wall, his hot breath fanning her neck. Lexi could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes met his ocean blue eyes. She hates to deny it but he grew much more handsome than before. A slow smirk appeared on his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Lexi shook, trying to push him off but he stood gallantly like a statue, his height towering above her. " Let me ..go.. now" her voice hoarse. " I hate repeating myself Lexi. You might wanna start talking" Lexi Thompson, a retired cop, is trapped in a toxic game of cat and mouse with Antonio Saint Claire, a ruthless mafia kingpin. Lexi Thompson thought she'd escaped Antonio Saint Claire's toxic grasp but his obsession runs deep. Now she must play by his rules to preserve her sanity. Will she find a way to break free, or will their twisted love consume them both ?.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.