Deku In A Dress Novels & Stories

When I pushed open the oakwood door to the manor’s study, I never expected to walk into such a scene. Juliana was sprawled across the desk, her posture leaving little to the imagination. As if not R-rated enough, her mini dress was pulled up to her waist, and her black lace clung to her thigh, barely covering her modesty. She looked back with a smile. “Alessia, my back is acting up again. Matteo’s just helping me out.” Matteo, my husband and a Don, rose to his feet, a tube of ointment in hand. He didn’t look like someone who had been caught out. “She couldn’t reach her back, so I thought I ought to lend a hand.” Matteo grabbed the dressing and pressed the gauze against her skin. He sure took his time. Tilting her head, Juliana met my gaze. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We grew up together. That’s how family is. We don’t care about that kind of stuff.” In my past life, I bolted into the room and grabbed Juliana by the hair to yank her off the desk. She turned to the side, shoving me hard into the sharp corner of the desk. I hit my head on the cold marble edge. The next thing I knew, I was a dead body in the morgue. This time, I stood in the doorway motionlessly. Since Juliana wanted to play the game, I’d be sure to hold my cards close to my chest.

I stared at the Vercetti marriage contract my father pushed across the table. Without hesitation, I wrote my half-sister’s name, Demi, and slid it back. My father froze. Then his eyes lit up with ridiculous excitement, like he’d just won the lottery. "How can you give such a perfect chance to your sister?" Last life, my marriage was a joke for everyone around me. I was the red-haired, untamed little witch who dared to climb into the orbit of Cassian Vercetti, heir and leader of the old-blood Vercetti crime family. I was never perfect nor obedient. He loved goddess gowns. I wore mini skirts and danced on tables. He demanded missionary, traditional, orderly intimacy. I wanted to climb on top, ride him, lose myself completely. At a gala, society wives laughing at my hair, my dress, my “wildness.” I thought he would at least pretend to defend me. He didn’t. “Forgive her. She’s not…properly trained.” Trained. Like a dog. I spent my entire last life suffocating under his rules, bending myself bloody to fit the shape he wanted, until the night our house caught fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I learned of the arranged marriage. I looked at the contract in front of me. This time? I think the nightclub boys suits me better. But the moment Cassian realized the bride wasn’t me, he shattered every rule he’d ever lived by.

All it took was one bad decision, one too many glasses of , one tight fitting dress, one muscular hottie and just one night to turn Gianni's imperfect but planned out life up side down. "Lets take this back to the hotel before I bend you over this table and bang you hard for the world to see" his rich, smooth but strong and commanding voice fill my ears, his minty breath fanning my face. So , I giggle and nod frantically unable to even function." Elijah Russo had everything growing up, he need not work a day in his life, but that wasn't enough, he had to run the world and so he made it his life mission to get any and everything almost impossible to have, his. He's a lady's man, he has the body, the brains and he definitely has that junk in the trunk. He's heartless and doesn't do the same woman twice. Gianni Summers hasn't had the best of life so typically she sets out to make sure she has one of the best futures. No parents,no family alone in the world, no one to depend on but herself,she has to make something out of her life. Studying for three years without break and working two day jobs. She just has no time for love and games all is work and no . So what happens when she finds herself and knows nothing about her baby daddy other than his name, Elijah.

She spent six years loving him. Six years planning forever. But on the eve of her dream wedding, Adrianna Rodriguez is forced to watch it all shatter, her groom, Damien Blackwood, is marrying someone else. Not just anyone. Her dying sister. Katherina’s final wish? To wear the dress Adrianna was supposed to wear and to marry the man she thought was hers. It was supposed to be a sacrifice. It felt like betrayal. Offered half of Damien’s empire as compensation, Adrianna is left broken into pieces and silenced. But broken hearts don’t stay quiet forever. What happens when love demands too much? When family guilt disguises cruelty? When forgiveness is no longer an option? In a world of twisted loyalty and secrets buried as sacrifice, Adrianna must choose walk away quietly… or turn heartbreak into revenge. Extract “She wants to marry me,” Damien said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s her last wish.” Adrianna’s breath caught in her throat. The perfect wedding, the life they had planned, the vows they were going to say all seemed to fall apart in front of her. “My wedding,” she whispered, her voice trembling with heartbreak, “was supposed to be our day.” Damien stepped closer, desperation in his eyes. “I’m offering you half my properties. Two million dollars. I want you to understand… this isn’t just about money. It’s about family.” Her jaw clenched. Anger began to burn inside her like a wildfire. “Compensation? Is that what I am to you? A deal? A consolation prize?”Something you can pay off?”

On the night that was meant to bind them forever, Avelyn Cross was handed divorce papers instead of a vow. Married to billionaire tycoon Cassian Blackridge in what she believed was a marriage of growing love, Avelyn discovers the truth too late she was never his choice. She was a substitute, a convenient bride filling space until the woman who owned his heart returned. Humiliated in her wedding dress and discarded before the night could end, Avelyn signs the divorce and disappears from Cassian’s world without tears, pleas, or explanations. What Cassian never expects is the silence she leaves behind. As Avelyn rebuilds her life from the ashes of betrayal, she sheds the identity of a disposable wife and rises into a woman of power, independence, and quiet fire. The fragile girl Cassian once ignored becomes someone the world cannot overlook. Years later, fate forces their paths to cross again. Cassian, now haunted by regret and haunted by the emptiness her absence carved into his life, realizes too late that the woman he discarded was the only one who ever truly loved him. But Avelyn has learned the cost of loving without being chosen and she is no longer willing to pay it. When buried secrets surface, past lies unravel, and an unexpected truth binds them once more, Cassian must confront the consequences of his cruelty and fight not just for forgiveness but for a second chance he may not deserve. In a world of power, pride, and broken promises, Divorced on Our Wedding Night is a slow-burn story of betrayal, transformation, and redemption where love must survive regret, and forgiveness must be earned, not begged for.

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…

You are mine now! The sooner you get used to that fact, the better its gonna be for you." "I belong to no one but myself." Nicole cried, but the terrifying mafia man only laughed. "I guess we'll have to see about that."  Nicole Meyer was the only daughter of Christopher Meyer, a heartless and ruthless man whose only concern was fame, wealth and power, and he was willing to sacrifice everything to aquire those things, even at the expense of his own daughter. He had just decided to marry her off to one of his friends for a business alliance, but Nicole decided that she would rather die than marry that man. She was also tired and frustrated of living like a slave in her own father's house so on the day of her wedding, she escaped in her white dress and tried to end it all, but she was rescued by a man whom she later discovered was the head of a dangerous mafia chain. "You were going to end it anyway so clearly you didn't have any need to live. I rescued you so now your life belong to me and i'm going to do with it as i damn well please." "Please don't hurt me." Nicole begged, her lips quivering. "Hurt you?" The man asked. "And just why would i do that when you are the very thing i've been searching for?" "I...i..am?" She stamerred in confusion. "Of course you are darling." He replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You are going to be my bride and the one that is going to producd me an heir."

Tiffany Jones is beautiful, innocent and a straight-A student, straight from elementary school, well, until she met Zeke. She had a lot of bad experiences while growing up, but that didn't stop her from becoming the person she was. Except that she had very huge trust issues. In college, she's made to share a bedroom with who she calls a total jerk. Yup, that's him, Ezekiel Blakely, popularly known as Zeke. He's a bad boy. He's a player. He's dangerous. He's reckless. The two are seen and talked about in the college, making Tiffany get attention, which she dislikes. How's she gonna cope with such a jerk? Would she give in to his flirtatious character and risk it all or would she flee before it's too late? Keep reading to find out. "Why the f*** did you have to wear this," This time, he pinned me to the wall, completely taking me off guard. "Nerd you're turning me on," He said and then pressed himself against me. There was no doubt he was already turned on. Oh, God! He brought his face to my neck and breathed hotly against it, sending shivers to my body. He trailed one of his hands up to my dress and our breathing was already getting hot. With one hand on my waist and the other making its way to my bra he whispers, "Stop torturing little Zeke."

[TRIGGER WARNING: Reader's Discretion Is Advised. This book contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, dark romantic elements, and strong language. It is intended for adult audiences(18+). Proceed with caution.] He placed a hand on my leg, and my breath caught. His hand slowly began stroking my thigh, sending a strange wave of sensation through my body. My fingers tightened against my dress as my pulse quickened. His hand moved slowly higher, sliding deeper into my thigh. My body stiffened as his fingers brushed against my panties. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. Is Master doing what I think he’s going to do? I thought, panic slowly rising inside me. He leaned slightly closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Try not to moan,” he whispered, my breath hitched. I tried my best to stay still, forcing myself to keep my expression calm as the men around the table continued their conversation. But under the table, his fingers kept teasing the fabric of my panties. My breathing grew uneven, then his fingers suddenly slipped inside. A small cough escaped my lips as my body jerked slightly from the sudden sensation. Several heads turned toward me. “Are you okay, Mrs. Enzo?” one of them asked with concern. My face burned with embarrassment. “Is something wrong? Did you choke on the food?” another man asked. “I think she choked on the food,” Enzo said calmly as he looked at me, his eyes held a warning.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes.She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat.There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn’t look away from. He complained to the family elders, “How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?” His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused.”The women of my family are wives, never mistresses.And my husband’s heart must belong only to me.” Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant.”Alessia, it’s just a title.I need you to give it to Chiara.Please? She doesn’t understand our family’s traditions, and she’s making a scene about marrying me.We just need to pacify her for now.Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family’s affairs.” As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger.A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.