Custom Breathing Styles

Sneak peek: "W-what are you doing?" I asked, my breathing getting heavier as his warm fingers inched towards my bikini bottom. "You called me a coward earlier, remember?" He asked, his other hand wrapped around my throat and lips torturingly brushing over mine "So let's see how much you can handle if I break the boundaries." "I haven't said anything wrong," I breathed out, the collision of the heat of our bodies made the wetness between my thighs build more "Oh really?" He hooked my legs around his waist leaving me surprised I opened my mouth to say something but before any sentence could leave my mouth, sliding past my bikini bottom his fingers were there on my bare clit and the next second they thrust inside the very tight hole of mine leaving me to scream. But everything went silent as he pressed his hot lips upon mine just as I had been wanting since the first day I had ever seen him. **** I always knew the things I felt for Jacob Adriano were wrong in so many ways. He was my dad's best friend, totally out of bounds but I couldn't stop wanting him. And once in the event of my dad's destination wedding, I came across him after years...I lost every one of the boundaries I had and surely I planned to make him lose his ones too. After all Jacob Adriano, the sinfully attractive Italian was not unaware of my obsession with him. But little did know that forbidden relationships always bring havoc and demolition.....

"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 ?.

WARNING! Mature Contents!!! A one-night stand of hot unprotected sex filled with passion and desire and Tiffany West and Lorenzo Russo's lives intertwine forever. Tiffany has no idea her stepfather owes the Cosa Nostra money and she's been used to repay the debt with an arranged marriage to Demirci, a member of the Turkish Mafia. And then there's him. The devil with a handsome face and nice tailored suit and a heart as black as tar. Lorenzo Russo. He's the man she lusts after and loathes more than anything— his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance, and too too-perceptive eyes. He's ability to see through her disguise to the broken girl she is has her infuriated. He's the embodiment of darkness and probably one of the most dangerous men in the world but she has no idea she's his frustration and fascination. Nowhere in Lorenzo Russo plan had he ever prepared for Tiffany. She's his opposite in every way… and the greatest temptation he's ever known. The breathing definition of everything he didn't want. She laughs too loud. She talks so much. She's clearly not his type, but still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her wherever she goes and thinking about their night of wild sex. After a wild party where Tiffany clearly had too many drinks. She wakes up next to Lorenzo wearing his ring. His wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to Lorenzo Russo, a Mafia don. Now she's forced to live with him. Sleep next to him. Be a wife to him. It didn't take long before shadows of the past comes knocking in the face of Salvatore Russo, the devil of a father that orders the murder of his sons. Now he's out to destroy the one thing Lorenzo Russo seems to obsess about, Tiffany West.

Delilah thought she married the perfect man. Charming. Respectable. Devoted. But then she discovered the man she trusted was a fraud — cheating behind her back, controlling her every move, and secretly stealing from the people who once believed in him. Her marriage wasn’t love. It was a trap. And when she lost the child she was carrying, alone, abandoned, and broken in a cold hospital bed, everything shattered. That’s when he returned. Thorne Weston. The estranged, adopted brother her husband never spoke of. The boy who once made her college life hell — cruel words, wicked smirks and relentless taunts. He's her tormentor. Her shadow. The one who looked at her like he wanted to ruin her… and maybe always did. He disappeared after graduation. Vanished. Forgotten. But now he’s back — colder, richer, and far more dangerous. And he’s watching her. And when she breaks down in the hospital, barely breathing through grief, he corners her in the shadows and makes her an offer that freezes her blood — and sets her body ablaze. “You want revenge? I want you. Be mine… and I’ll destroy him for you.” She should scream. She should hate him. But hate doesn’t explain the fire curling in her belly every time he whispers her name. Hate doesn’t make her knees tremble when he steps too close, smelling of smoke, leather, and sin. And hate isn’t what makes her crave the rough, twisted salvation only he can give. Because Thorne Weston is no longer a cruel boy with a chip on his shoulder. He’s a man forged in violence. Obsessed. Possessive. Unhinged. And he doesn’t just want her — he owns her. Body. Soul. And every shattered piece her husband left behind.

*** “Get back here Bella. Do not even try because you can't get away from me, and do not let me catch you myself.” “I don't want to have anything to do with you," she retorted angrily. “Oh, sweetheart, that is totally on you. Do you know how long I have been invested in you?” “You kidnapped me and brought me here. I don't want to be here and I'm not letting you touch me," her voice was so strong. He loved her challenge: it only made him harder. "Me touching you is definitely happening. You absolutely can't resist it for too long: you can only enjoy it now,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. With that, he quickly ran around the kitchen counter and caught her. “Got you… You can't run away from me Bella; no matter how hard you try I will always find you. “Let me go… now,” she shouted. “Not when I'm still breathing baby, you will love every single thing I do to you” he carried her over his shoulder to the bedroom… At a young age, Mirabella Antonio lost everything. Her parents died suddenly in a car crash. They died with a debt tagged to their names. A year later, her older brother, David was murdered in cold blood, trying to keep her safe and pay off the debt their parents owed. And the man at the center of it all was Hunter Groves. Four years later, he saw her again. He wants her. And Hunter doesn’t ask. He only takes. She opposed him in every way possible but he took her in every way possible. He is determined to imprint himself on her body and soul and that he did. Note; Dark romance; Male lead is a totally obsessed psychopath. ***Trigger warnings***

I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage. She paid my tuition with his father’s money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I’ll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose. Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me. So I moved into the Hunters’ mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell. Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more. I thought graduation meant freedom from him. I was wrong. Now he’s my stepbrother. He hates that I’m here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me. But hate isn’t clean anymore. It’s tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me, the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I’m shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more. He calls me Little Lamb, I call him every name I can think of under my breath. How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus？” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

Love, Happy Endings, Soulmates, these are the things we want and need in life, we want to get them, but it's easier said than done. Certain factors need to be considered. Relationships and Love need few unmaterialistic things, but sadly, Caden Ian Manchester and Fiona Guinevere Kings do not know these. Weighed with traumas and scars, they hid their true self from each other, but the past never stays hidden, and it gets revealed in the worst way possible. Fiona Kings looks like a real life Barbie, but she sure as hell doesn't live in a fairytale, if it's a fairytale, it's a twisted one, a very twisted fairytale. Her life has being chaotic, from a family that don't care about her, to an abusive and psychotic boyfriend. She met him, Caden Manchester, it seem like she's drawn to the bad boys, Aren't we all?. Caden Manchester is a walking trauma, a breathing disaster, a living catastrophe, an addictive poison. She knows she should run, everyone tells her to run, but once Love gets into the equation, leaving seems unlikely. Caden Manchester is an orphan, a drug addict, a result of a broken home. An Artist who has definitely lost his muse. He meets her, Fiona Kings. She seems like his saving grace, his last and final shot at redemption, all he has to do is let her get tangled in his web of pain, death and painful secrets. He's no good for her, he's aware of this,  She's too angelic, but like a moth drawn to flame, he's drawn to her, to light. She's his Vanilla, His butterfly whose wings he breaks, rendering her broken. He breaks her, shatters her, destroys her, but she didn't leave. He tries to push her away, but, she stuck with him.

[WWARNING: MATURE CONTENT] "I... I'm not sure what I'm asking for," Serena admitted. "But I know I want you. Even if it scares me to death." Her voice trembled slightly. His hand covered hers, pressing it more firmly against his hardened length. "Tell me to stop. Tell me now, or I won't be able to hold back." his tone was both a challenge and a plea. Serena swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest at the electric tension between them. "I don't want you to stop," she breathed, barely recognizing her own voice. His eyes darkened even more. So much so that the ambers in them completely disappeared. He gnashed his teeth so hard as he fought for control. Serena could feel the tension radiating off him in waves like a spring ready to snap. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he growled roughly. She bit her lip, both thrilled and intimidated by the raw need in his voice. Her fingers trailed along the hard line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there. "Show me," she challenged. His breathing grew even more ragged. Serena could see the struggle on his face - the battle between his overwhelming desire and his need to protect her from his own intensity. "I could hurt you," he warned again. "I'm not sure I can ever be gentle with you. I’m rough. My kind of sex is brutal." --------- Serena's life hit rock bottom when she caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend. She decided to lose herself in a bar, hoping to wash away her pain. However, life has this funny way of messing up plans – she ended up in a one-night stand that only added more trouble to her already chaotic reality.