Darkened Synonym

[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.

Their naked bodies were shipping against each other. Her sapphire glossy orbs were staring at his brown eyes. "I love you, Cia. I love you to the extent that I will end and taint that life which would even think about taking you away from me," The firmness of his words were evident in his darkened eyes. "Even if it's your life," he rasped against her mouth. They both knew his love was irrational, an obsession for her. They loved each other enough, especially for her to let his love taint her existence. "I love you, Zale," And her words were enough to make him lose everything in her. She beautifully moaned his name as soon his warmth engulfed her deepest depth which made both of them close their eyes in pleasure, but they had never in their worst ever thought that their eyes would have to witness that thing which their future had stored for them. His deep brown orbs were staring at her who was clad in a beautiful white gown. Her sapphire orbs were downcast as she was standing at the altar but the irony was she was not his bride but his brother's. "Do you, Mr Blake Alcazar, take Miss Celia Reyes as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest's voice echoed, causing him to fist his palm and her heart to turn numb. "I do," A tear slipped from her eyes, hearing that person's answer who was standing in front of her and feeling those brown eyes penetrating her soul. "Do you, Miss Celia Reyes, take Mr Blake Alcazar as your lawfully wedded husband?" Those deep brown eyes turned predacious and her answer turned them voraciously vicious. "I do," she answered. An answer which sealed two destinies, which shattered two hearts and TAINTED two souls.

He catches my wrist as I try to flee, spinning me back against his chest in the empty hallway. "Running from me again? That's not very stepmother-ly of you." His lips brush the shell of my ear, and I shiver. "Let me go, Klaus," I manage, though my body melts into his touch. "Before someone sees…" "Let them," he murmurs, his hand sliding up my thigh beneath my skirts. "Let the whole kingdom see and know that you are mine, damnit!” ***** She wore a veil and a lie when she walked into the palace as the Alpha King's bride. But revenge has a way of getting complicated when your fated mate is your new stepson. Margaux should be dead. Her mate rejected her, and the Alpha King slaughtered her family—but she survived, and now she's back wearing someone else's face. Her plan is simple: marry the King, gain his trust, and destroy him from within. What she didn't plan for was him. Klaus recognizes her the moment their eyes meet across the throne room, mate bond blazing to life despite the years and lies between them. He's the King's son. Her stepson now. The man who shattered her heart. And he's making it very clear that he doesn't care about scandal, propriety, or the fact that she belongs to his father—at least on paper. He never stopped wanting her. He never stopped loving her. But Klaus doesn't know the whole truth: his father murdered her family in cold blood, and Margaux won't rest until she's bathed in the King's destruction. She should be focused on vengeance, not the forbidden heat that ignites every time Klaus corners her in darkened hallways. She should hate him for abandoning her. She does hate him. So why can't she stay away?

I stared down at the contract, a wave of defiance bubbling up in me. I turned back to him, meeting his gaze head-on. "I never asked for your help," I said, "I would've found a way to save my mother on my own. You may think you own me, but I'd rather die than marry you." A slow smile crept across his face, a smug, knowing look that sent a chill down my spine. He knew exactly what I was thinking, as if my resistance only entertained him. "Look at me," he commanded. I reluctantly turned back, locking eyes with him. His face had shifted, his expression darkened, and for the first time, true fury was etched in his eyes. "I’ll count to ten," he said, "If that contract isn’t signed by the time I reach ten, I’ll make the same call I made to pay those bills. Only this time, the instructions will be different. Your mother... your sister…they’ll both be gone." He took a breath, settling back as if the threat were a mere matter of routine. "So… ONE!!" I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Could he be bluffing? No, I'd seen him kill before, seen how casually he turned life and death into sports. "FOUR," he counted. My hands started to shake. What could I do? If I signed, I'd be bound to him forever, trapped as his wife. But if I didn’t... my mother and sister’s lives hung in the balance. "SEVEN." I closed my eyes, fighting the panic rising in my chest. He wouldn’t do it, I told myself. He couldn’t be that monstrous. But even as I thought it, the doubt crept in. I wasn’t sure. Then, he hit "TEN" himself

“She should have run away… while I let her. She should have disappeared with all of these intense feelings that she evokes in me. She should have never come this close to me. Because Now…” Luciano’s eyes darkened and something snapped in him as he saw her tear her shirt away, exposing her to his naked, hungry eyes and before Luciano could even pull himself away, his body acted on his own, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer before his mouth devoured her, “…Now, there’s no going back.” “Mine…” He growled, “You’re just mine to ruin, Noora!” “I knew I should have run away from this man whose sole purpose was to hate me, wreck me, and make me fall. But here I was standing now, for him to ruin, for him to claim his ownership. Yet, why was she feelings the things that were far away from the loathing that I have for him?” “Luciano…” Noora moaned, her fingers clutching his hair as she pulled him closer, biting her lips, “You’ll never ruin me!” ……………… Noora never asked to be caught in the ruthless games of power, deception, and vengeance, yet the moment she returned home for Lucas’s engagement, her past and fate became entangled with the one man who despised her the most—Luciano. The heir to the Richardson empire, Luciano had only ever shown her cruelty, pushing her away with his cold words and scorching glares. But beneath the hatred lay something darker, something that neither of them could deny any longer. As secrets unravel and their pasts collide, their undeniable pull toward each other threatens to destroy them both. Because in this game, love isn’t just passion—it’s possession. And neither of them is willing to lose.

“I should punish you.” “Maybe you should. Or maybe you’re all bark, no bite,” I shot back, my voice daring. His eyes darkened, and in a blur, I was over his shoulder, my skin burning where he held me and the cold air kissed my bare ass. “Your skin” His voice was low, almost reverent. “So fucking smooth.” Before I could retort, the world shifted, steam rising around us. He set me down, steadily, fingers brushed the hem of the shirt I wore, his shirt. He slipped it away without hesitation, leaving me bare under his gaze. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Punishing you.” —— Rayna gave up everything for love. She abandoned her pack, killed her wolf when she rejected her destined mate, and gave herself entirely to the man she thought would stand by her forever, Alpha Dario. But when Dario found his fated mate, he didn’t hesitate to cast Rayna aside, leaving her broken, and utterly alone. One night of drowning her sorrows at a bar changes everything. Rayna witnesses a brutal murder—one carried out by none other than Alpha Sven, the ruthless Mafia leader feared across packs. What Rayna doesn’t realize is that fate isn’t done with her. Sven isn’t just her captor, her tormentor, her obsession—he’s the very mate she rejected long ago. He remembers her rejection like a scar carved into his soul, and he’s not interested in forgiveness, he doesn’t want her love. He wants to see her surrender in obedience, her body bound to his until she can’t deny him anymore. Rayna must decide whether to keep resisting the bond—or surrender to the one man who has both the power to destroy her and the claim to own her.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"