Ciúme

Zeus had spent the last twelve years of his life as a substitute for a powerful man, Damon, living a false life of wealth, all in exchange for money. What he hadn’t anticipated that the identity he had assumed would tie him to the most dangerous man of all. Odin Romano. “I am your god, and I am your devil here, Damon.” When Odin’s sister took her own life, she left a note with Damon’s name on it. Odin who was known to exhume graves and crush whatever remained would never let his sister’s “killer” go free. Soon, Zeus found himself kidnapped by a deadly handsome man. “Who… who are you?” Zeus’s face turned white when his eyes met with animalistic yet sexy brown eyes that could not possibly belong to a human. The man tilted his chin up not with his fingers but with his claws, his hot breath brushing against Zeus’ lips, “Call me Alpha.” Zeus was trapped, accused of a crime he didn’t commit, yet trying to convince Odin seemed impossible. At every turn, Odin was prepared to turn Zeus’ life into a living hell. Escape felt impossible, and, against all odds, the allure of his enemy grew more irresistible. Until ever so slowly Zeus becomes Odin’s obsession. “What the hell do you want from me now? Haven’t you had enough of your revenge already? Haven’t I paid enough? Let me go now. My fiance is waiting for me!” Zeus glared at his kidnapper who was pinning him down to his bed. “Your fiance?” Odin chuckled a dark smile tugging at his lips. “Tell her to rest. Your husband is back.” Falling in love with the enemy was unforgivable, but would their hearts follow the rules?

I want you to cry The way you made me cry Cry for me Emily Hensley is in a one-sided relationship with her husband Charles. She held back and repressed her emotions for years until one day she discovered he was cheating on her and something in her ticked She found milli hidden in the deepest, darkest parts of her soul. Milli encourages her to make him pay, to make him cry just like she cried. Punish him, just like he punished her. Broken heart Tears And blood Just how far do you think Emily will go?

“Spread for me," he growled, his fingers teasing her wet and eager folds. “I… I can’t…” Celeste whispered, shivering, her body betraying her with every desperate twitch. “Yes, you can,” he hissed, pressing harder, dragging a fingertip through her slick heat. “Show me… how wet, how hungry you are for me.” Celeste never expected her stepbrother to ignite a fire she couldn’t control. Every accidental touch, every heated glance left her trembling, yearning for him in ways both thrilling and forbidden. When Jace invaded her space, teasing, daring, and dominating, she was pushed to the edge. Desire coiled low, nerves screamed, and every inch of her ached to be claimed and filled by the one man she shouldn’t want. Forbidden, dripping, and utterly consuming, this was a craving that shouldn’t exist, yet she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, resist.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

"Touch me until I cum so hard that I forget my own name," I gasped, my lips brushing his, trembling beneath the weight of his stare. "You will forget more than that, wife," he rasped, gripping my throat with one hand and sliding the other down my body, "I will make you cum until you forget how to fight your feelings for me." * Elena Thrown into a marriage with the city’s most dangerous mafia king, I had one mission, to seduce him, overwhelm him and make him end it. So, I moaned louder, touched deeper, played the part of a woman consumed by lust, all in hopes he would be repulsed. But Dominic Moretti doesn’t fall for games. He plays them better. Colder, rougher and unrelenting. Every fake moan becomes real. Every forced kiss turns savage. And every time I think that I have the upper hand, he flips me over and makes me forget I ever wanted to get out of this marriage. He doesn’t believe in love. I don’t believe in staying. But when lust ignites war and pleasure starts to hurt in all the right ways, it’s no longer about breaking the marriage, it’s about surviving it. One of us will break. One of us will beg. But we will be both drenched in each other's lust before it’s all over.

Could you swing along to the flow of fate that purposely designed specifically for you? But what if every beat of your heart is yearning for love? "Am I selfish if I ask you to stay? If I tell you I love you, would you hold me closer?" Taste it. Savour it, but don't you ever claim it. It may be just a trap. Guard your heart.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. Xoxo. Beg me to take you," he murmured. His voice was rough, reverberating through my bones. "Beg me to bend you over that couch and fuck you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Please." He paused. Then, to my everlasting dismay, he pulled back, removing his hand from my pants and leaving a wet, cold trail behind. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, turning my knees to pudding. "No," he said. It took a second to register. "What?" I cried. "Why? You asked me to... why?" And he laughed. He laughed at me.

"I moaned, bringing my thighs wide, further. "Do you like it, Sienna?" I nodded like an idiot, forgetting the fact that he was my stepbrother. "I do like it, Soren." My breath caught in my chest as I felt warm juice spill through my punani, "I love it, Soren. Everything you do to me." ***** The confused, pleasure-hungry nerd who fell for her stepbrothers? That was me, Sienna Cruz. At first, I thought I'd be able to conquer the urge of wanting my stepbrothers but no, I fell more deeper—lost in the ocean of depravity and Sin. Simon is the calm one, we were close. He was soft hearted and I liked him. Whenever we talked, I would find myself staring at his bulge. His morning erection was damn beautiful. He would ask, "Sienna, are you okay?" I would nod, lying I was but deep down what I craved was every inch of him. All that wanted to break from my lips was "Bury your cock deep in my pussy. Break every wall of restriction." And Soren? He was the demon amongst the twin brothers. I thought I hated him until I found myself staring way too much at the photo mom forced us to take during summer. His Ocean Blue eyes pulled me in. The arrogant smirk on his face spelt more than it looked. He was way too charming. Who did I like more? Simon or Soren? I swear I do not know. Soren was a demon, yet I find myself crawling back to his bed and when Simon flashed that cute smile at me? It made me helpless. Soren's charm was more gripping. I fantasized a lot about his rod and all I wanted was for him to ruin me in the worst way ever.

"People are waiting for us downstairs." He whispered to me under his breath, "You will go down and play the happy fiancée." "N-no.." I sobbed, "Liam, please. I can't." "You can and you will." He stated firmly, "I am not your father so do think twice before going against my order." Forceful. Demanding. Arrogant. He is. Liam Alvaro Luciano is everything any living creatures fear, including me. My name is London Naomi Saint and this is a story about how 18-year-old me winded up with the world's most dangerous and ruthless mafia as a husband of mine.

"Are you expecting anyone mum?" I asked She turned to me and shook her head, showing that she wasn't expecting anyone. Abruptly, the door opened. Oliver and I ran to mum and held her hand. We heard someone step into the room and the footsteps kept getting louder. I tightened the grip on my mothers hand burying my face in her gown, suddenly the footstep stopped and there was silence in the room. Read more to find out what happened.