Novel & Cerita Dirk Gently Jacket

After I proposed to Kathy Johnson, my girlfriend of seven years, we went to City Hall to get our marriage license. Instead, she had her bodyguards throw me onto the street. Then, she walked through the doors, hand in hand with her childhood friend, Nate. She didn’t even blink when he saw me sitting there on the ground, shaking with disbelief. "Nate's son needs a legal guardian to secure his inheritance from the Johnson Group. The fastest way is for me to marry Nate and adopt the boy." "As soon as the paperwork is finalized, we'll get a divorce. You'll still be the one I really marry." Everyone assumed that I, the man who had been devoted to her for so long, would foolishly wait. After all, I had already waited for seven long years. But that night, I accepted the arranged business marriage my family had prepared for me and took a flight to Center City on the East Coast. I vanished from Kathy's world completely, and no one saw it coming. Five years later, I returned to Westlake City to visit my family. My wife, Rhea Weyland, was the sole heir to the Weyland family, a powerhouse that practically controlled the entire West Coast economy. She was tied up in a sudden international merger meeting. She had specially arranged for someone to pick me up from the airport. But I never dreamed that the "someone" she sent would be Kathy. The moment she saw me, her gaze immediately fell on the glittering watch on my wrist. "I can't believe that after all these years, you've stooped so low you're wearing a cheap knockoff." "Are you done with your little pity party? It's time to come crawling back. Nate's son is starting at an elite private school, and you're just in time to be his full-time driver and bodyguard." I gently stroked the watch on my wrist. What she didn't know was that this was one of the more modest gifts Rhea had given me.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?

I parted my lips to speak, when Lila cut in. "It's a sensitive topic, father. Can we eat now?" She requested. I sighed gratefully, watching his actions without showing that I was. He held a glass of wine, and raised it gracefully. I stifled a moan. Goddess, his actions alone were enough to arouse me. He took a sensual sip, and I looked away, feeling my nipples hardening. When last had I felt the life being fucked out of me. Ever since my last boyfriend, that was. I hadn't had good sex since then. ~~~ "If you'll excuse me please." My voice barely sounded like a whisper. Without waiting for another minute, I rushed away, towards my room. I placed my back against the door, breathing hard. I didn't need to check, I could feel my juices soaking through my painties. It was lucky none of them saw my hardened nipple peeking through my dress. Goddess knew why I hadn't worn a bra. I needed a release. The thought had hardly formed in my head, when I rushed towards the bathroom, shutting the door close. I got under the shower, and turned it on. Placing my left leg on the wall, I closed my eyes. I pictured Vincenzo tracing his hand over my shoulder and I shuddered. I pushed my head back, my finger moving farther down my leg. I rubbed gently on my folds through the material, and moaned softly. I was fucking aroused. **** After banishment from her pack, Ella seeks refuge in her friend’s pack. The last thing she ever thought would happen was to fall for her friend’s father and the pleasure he has to offer. Can she navigate the treacherous waters of forbidden love and still maintain her relationship with her best friend?

To protect the endangered elf race from human nobles, I left the Life Forest and seduced Anders, my childhood friend, now the most powerful and ruthless man in the world. As I expected...he was still obsessed with me. For three days and three nights, we drowned in feverish, desperate pleasure. But when I finally woke—naked, aching, gasping for air—a bucket of sulfuric acid was dumped over my head! I screamed. However, Anders stood by with a cruel smile. "Huh, so the legendary immortal elf can feel pain?" "This is just the beginning, Jovia. Until you tell me where my parents are." He firmly believed that the elves were behind the mysterious disappearance of his parents. From then on, my hell began: Forced to watch him and Lisa be affectionate, forced to cut open my chest and extract my life crystal that sustained my life for her beauty treatment; forced to sing with an overstrained, hoarse voice to lull Lisa to sleep… He hated me to the core. But every time I was on the verge of death, it was he who would roughly pick me up and force me to swallow the top-grade magic potion. His hands trembled with rage, and something he refused to name. Sometimes he was as cold as ice: "Do you think I still love you, so I can't do anything to you? Keep going!" At other times, he would reveal a heart-wrenching tenderness, gently stroking the scars on my neck with his fingertips and whispering in a low, seductive voice: "Be good, tell me where my parents are. " I silently endured his love and hate, feeling the struggle deep in his soul. I silently kept the secret about his parents that could shatter everything. Soon, I wouldn't have to endure all this anymore. Because if an elf leaves the Life Forest for more than three years, their life source will dry up and will eventually turn into nothing. At this point, there were only three days left until my disappearance.

The notorious Alpha of the Black Wolf pack, Kellen Blackwood, is feared throughout the entire pack for his violent temper. Yet, everyone knows he adores his mate, Lilith Hayes. I am only an Omega, the lowest rank among werewolves, and I haven't awakened my wolf by the age of 18. Even though I became a laughingstock in the Black Wolf pack, Kellen still treats me as the love of his life. He always says I am as pure as moonlight, and he's willing to bow his head and surrender his pride for me. I believe him. Despite my family's objections, I become his mate. For five years, we have been together. He cherishes me like a priceless treasure. The Alpha Kellen, who shows no mercy outside, cooks meals for me and takes care of our home with his own hands. The fearsome leader, who never bows to anyone, gently lowers his head and shows deference to me. When my brother, Rex Hayes, breaks werewolf law, Kellen is the one who accompanies me to find someone who will testify for him. But on the day of the trial, the only person who can prove Rex's innocence, Ella Foster, is nowhere to be found. Rex is convicted of assault instead of being cleared for self-defense. The moment Rex is found guilty, Kellen is the first to stand and applaud in agreement. I lose control and run to confront Ella, demanding to know why she turned her back on us at the last moment. Ella clutches her stomach, tears rolling down her face, her voice trembling as she says, "Rex really is at fault. I can't just stand by and let my father be blamed for something he didn't do!" I stand there in shock, and then Kellen appears behind me. "Lilith, Ella is pregnant with my pup. I can't let anything happen to the pup she's carrying. Rex's punishment is exile to the Frozen Wastes. Compared to everything Ella has lost, that's already merciful."

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

On the fifth year anniversary of my marking ceremony with Alpha Gabriel Blackhound, I got sprayed by a blast of high-concentration silver powder that was ejected from the jewelry box I had opened. It resulted in me going blind in both eyes. Gabriel practically tore down the entire jewelry store out of rage. He vowed to find the culprit and exact vengeance on my behalf. Since then, he served as my walking cane. Even if he was dealing with pack matters, he insisted on making me sit on his lap. The entire pack sang praises about how devoted he was to me. I was insanely grateful for what Gabriel had done for me, so I took great care of the "orphaned pup" who was left behind by a Beta in the pack my whole life. But when I lay on my deathbed, I overheard Gabriel's murmured conversation with my best friend, Isabelle Barker. He was even hugging her at that time. "Gabriel, our son will be officially taking over as the pack's Alpha tomorrow. I suppose we have that blind she-wolf to thank for being a free nanny to him." "Yeah. If we didn't blind her back then, she'd never have agreed to taking care of our heir, who looks very similar to me." It turned out that the suffering and gratitude I had gone through in this lifetime was nothing more than an elaborate scheme Gabriel and Isabelle had woven for me in order to get their bastard pup crowned as the next Alpha! Overwhelmed with immense resentment and hatred, I breathed my last on the bed. When I open my eyes again, I hear Gabriel urging me to open the gift. The lethal jewelry box, which is still sealed and untouched, is currently sitting right in front of me. That's when I know that I've gotten reborn. I do my best to suppress the roiling waves of hatred as I gently push the box filled with silver powder into Gabriel's arm. Then, I act all cutesy in front of him. "Darling, since this is a surprise that you've prepared for me, why don't you open the box and put the jewelry on for me?"

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

Whenever they played Truth or Dare, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Clara would deliberately dare him to pull the same prank on me, and Ronan would always willingly play along: he would pretend to propose to me. The last time, I fell for it. I joyfully held out my hand, but a mechanism inside the ring snapped shut, and I cried out in pain. Ronan and Clara doubled over with laughter, ignoring my finger, which had been pinched purple. Afterward, Ronan pinned me against the wall and swore that this year, he would give me a real proposal. So when his bodyguards brought me to the private club where we first met, I changed into an expensive white silk gown, styled my hair, and applied my most exquisite makeup. I even played the touching scene out in my head, imagining myself nodding and saying yes. But as I pushed open the door to the VIP room, my heart pounding, someone threw a full glass of deep red wine in my face. It streamed down my chin and onto my gown. A woman's laughter erupted from the crowd. "I told you Aurora would show up, didn't I? Ronan, you lose!" Ronan walked over, looking resigned. He gently dabbed at my face with a napkin, his tone as soft as ever. "Dressed up just for me? A shame to ruin a good dress." "Clara dared me to bet on whether you would have the guts to come to our turf tonight. I bet that you would. The wager was this: if you didn't, I'd propose tomorrow. If you came, we'd have to wait another year." "Sorry, baby. Since you showed up, I guess we can't get married this year." The wine trickled down my collarbone, cold and sticky. I shivered. Suddenly, the whole thing felt utterly pointless. Our anniversary meant nothing compared to one of their pranks. Just like me. I could never win against Clara, his childhood sweetheart. I unclasped the simple silver bracelet, the one I'd worn for six years, from my wrist. "This is over. We're breaking up."