Credence Couch Scene

Tantalizing crimson eyes and jet black hair were all Lily could remember in the features of the enigmatic young man who saved her ten years ago when she was kidnapped. One day, she accidentally saw him again after ten years in the middle of a busy street in an unexplainable situation. Time froze for few seconds, people around her stopped moving, and in his snap of finger defreezes time, as the car in front of him lose control and crashed with the nearby truck. She was left dazed by what had just happened in front of her. The scene shocked her and triggered her memory of him. "The guy who saved me was no human," she murmured staring blankly, remembering their uncanny encounter a decade ago. "Grim Reaper?" Confusion was written on her face. He shook his head. "Non, I am Doom, and I bring death to people." After the street incident, she couldn't forget his face and his lines kept replaying in her dreams like a broken tape which made her wonder if this was part of the after-effects of her trauma or if it was destiny that aligned their stars to collide.

He promised to protect him from a killer. He never said he was one. When journalist Ian Parker witnesses a brutal murder, he should have been the killer's next victim. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital, saved by Zhedya Hunter…a brilliant forensic pathologist, a reclusive CEO, and a man with chilling grey eyes that feel hauntingly familiar. Charismatic and dangerously possessive, Zhedya offers Ian shelter in his opulent penthouse, a gilded cage where every comfort is a chain. As Zhedya's obsession deepens, Ian's career skyrockets, with damning evidence against the city's most wanted criminals mysteriously falling into his hands. But each exclusive story comes with a price: a fractured memory, a drugged haze, and a growing pile of bodies connected to anyone who threatens their twisted paradise. Now, Ian is trapped in a nightmare of luxury and lies, unraveling a truth more terrifying than any headline: his savior is a predator, his sanctuary is a crime scene, and the man who claims to love him is the most prolific murderer he will ever interview. Learning how to love a murderer is easy. Surviving him is the real story.

My childhood friend called, saying he was trapped in a fire. He wanted to hear my voice one last time, and I rushed to the scene as fast as I could. But in that small, blazing spot, there was only a cat. Stumbling, I got the cat out, but my arms got burned. A crowd gathered, pointing at me and laughing hysterically. "She actually went for it?" "What a simp, risking her life like that!" Safe and sound, Colin Porter stepped out of the crowd with a grin. He picked up the cat from my arms and handed it to his crush. "See? I told you the cat would be fine. When have I ever lied to you?" Turning back to me, he said, "The cat got spooked and ran into the fire. We didn't know what to do, so we called you. Thank you for your help." The people around us snickered, like they were watching a trained dog. Later, on my wedding day, my husband carried me to the car. Colin, dragging his burned, bloody legs, crawled on the ground. He begged, "I'm hurt, Selena! Come help me!"

By the time I return home from a business trip, it is past midnight. However, my wife, Celeste Beaumont, isn't home. A man's shirt that isn't mine is lying on the couch. When I call her, she tells me that she's working late at the office. "Whose shirt is it on the couch?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. She playfully scolds, "Who else would it be? It's a gift for you, so hurry up and try it on." I skeptically put it on and immediately feel how tight and uncomfortable it is across my shoulders. "This is an L, babe. I've always worn XL." Celeste runs a clothing company. She's the one who handles all my clothes and even uses my body measurements for her menswear line. There's no way she doesn't know my size. The line goes quiet for half a second before she thoughtfully says, "It's from my new menswear collection. "I had pieces custom-made for you and Felix, so I must've grabbed the wrong piece. I'll swap it tomorrow." A beat later, her voice carries a little sob as she continues, "Babe, I've been so exhausted without you these past few days. I've missed you so much…" It's past midnight. As I listen to the undeniable weariness beneath her affectionate, playful words, my heart aches in distress. I can't help chiding myself for overthinking. However, after hanging up, realization hits me. Her brother, Felix Beaumont, and I are about the same build. He's always worn XL.

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

Helen Mark is a 21-year-old model for the Elite Modeling Agency. Although she lost her father who happens to be her only support at a very early age, she strives to become a successful model. She spent the morning in school, her afternoon practicing and working, then her evening in the hospital with her sick mother. It was time for the Model's Grand Finale and Helen was selected by her manager to represent her Agency and to also meet with Mr. Rex a top Director in the industry to push her career. Her joy was cut short when Mr. Rex's lustful feelings brought her to ruin. Lucas Dowell, a handsome young CEO was only in the Grand Finale to supervise some work when he bombed into the scene and saved Helen. Overwhelmed with her beauty, Lucas offers Helen a contract marriage to help solve the internal conflict he has with his family and company. With a huge sum of money, footing her mother's hospital bill as an exchange. Helen must learn to play a perfect wife to earn the fat amount and find ways to avoid falling for the handsome billionaire CEO.

I let out soft moans of pleasure... Leaning on the wall, I grappled one leg on his waist, with one of my hands holding the table tightly, and the other wrapped around his neck. He unzipped my dress and helped me pull it off, while I fumbled through to unbutton his shirt, not taking my lips away from his. We moved further to the couch, kissing like it would be our very last. My breast brushed against his chest, creating a warm feeling, and this overwhelming sensation made my breath heavier. He latched his tongue on my neck, and a moan escaped my lips. "Chris.." I called, under my breath. Biting my already swollen lips, sinking my hands into his back, trying to pull him closer to me. His left arm remained rooted in my neck, while the other arm glided down my waist, to my ass and I whimpered, arching my body towards his, this felt so good. "You taste so good" he whispered, gently biting my ear lobes, my body reacted as his breath touched me. When demons meet and are entangled in the web of forbidden love, hate and sacrifices - chaos is bound to happen. Just when life becomes rough for JJ... Joanna, she gets drunk in a party and goes wild with a one night stand, the almighty Chris Aetos, a billionaire CEO and prince of the ginns. Therefore a fate may have it... THE PREY OF THE GINN NEVER ESCAPES THE GINN. Gradually, both get caught up in a whirlwind of shocking discoveries, histories and dark revelations. What is it like to discover that you were once in love with a particular person eight hundred years ago?

His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, placing a finger on my mouth. “Uh-uh, what did I say you call me when we're alone?” My body tingled with heat. “Daddy?” “Urgh…” A guttural groan tore from his chest. “Yes, baby?” My mind spaced for a second and Andre took advantage of that, tucking his hands under my legs and carrying me bridal style. “Andre, what are you doing?!” I shriek, dangling my legs in the air. “Finishing what we started, baby.” he chuckled, heading straight for the front door. I shook my head in bemusement. His daughter just found out about us and his brain goes straight to sex? Men… I wasn't any better though as I just waited for him to cross that threshold and pounce on me, instead of dissuading him. He strode over to the loveseat couch, sliding me down his body before pushing me back to the couch. Propped up on my elbows, I looked up at him with hooded eyes, only for the the door knob to flip. My eyes widened and instantly, I jerked up to my feet, coming to stand behind Andre. I had no idea who it was as Claire would have just barged right in. The door opening seemed to take several minutes but in reality, it was only seconds. It swung inwards to reveal Leila, the last person I was expecting to see. She took one look at us and wasn't in the least bit surprised. “So it's true?” Those cold grey eyes moved over to me. “You're the whore that's fucking my husband?”

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.

The Filthiest Collection You'll Ever Read WARNING: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT They say some lines should never be crossed. This collection crosses every single one. Behind the altar, Father Michael discovers Sister Claire on her knees—but not in prayer. His fourteen-inch cock and her broken vows create the most sinful confession the church has ever witnessed. In the strip club's champagne room, ownership takes on new meaning when the boss claims his newest dancer in ways that blur every professional boundary. Money talks. His fifteen inches scream. The megachurch reverend with the monstrous sixteen-inch secret destroys his young secretary across his Bible-covered desk while his wife leads worship downstairs. Hypocrisy has never been so hard. Married bosses fuck their secretaries on desks still warm from morning meetings. Divorce lawyers claim vulnerable clients on the same couch where they signed papers. Addiction counselors enable relapses—the sexual kind. Therapists finally act on years of inappropriate desire when the final session becomes anything but professional. From nuns breaking vows to brides cheating the night before their weddings, from politicians risking everything to doctors violating every oath—these twenty stories explore the darkest desires we're told to suppress. Wedding rings stay on. Consequences are real. The sex is brutal, explicit, and described in devastating detail. Size matters—twelve to sixteen inches of it—and these encounters leave permanent marks on bodies and souls. No redemption. No excuses. No limits. Just raw, forbidden passion that destroys everything in its path. Are you brave enough to read what shouldn't be written?