Dog Smiling With Teeth

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

He slammed her back against the closed door making her grit her teeth as she glared at him. “Camellia,” his voice was dripping with controlled fury yet that endearment rolled off his tongue in a raspy growl. “I don’t like other men touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing her jaw, his fingers firmly pressing into her cheeks as he made her hazel eyes look into his dark greys. “I’m not yours,” she said with gathered-up bravado though his intimidating presence made her feel so timid. He leaned closer as her eyes fell on the camellia flower that was inked on his neck. His hot breath tickled her lips as his intense stare lingered on her lips. “You’re mine, Camellia. Mine!” With a low growl, he crashed his lips on hers. DARK ROMANCE!

"Qubool hai(I accept)," I said with great difficulty and a lone tear escaped from my eyes. I looked at my husband and found him smiling at me. His smile was so mysterious and unusual which created a shiver in my whole system. At the time of Rukhsati(sending off the bride), my mother requested to my husband," Please, take care of her." " Don't worry. I will love her and take care of her so much that she will forget her own family," He replied chuckling but I felt something fishy in his voice. Will he really love me and take care of me the way he is promising to my mother? Erina was just a 22-year-old girl when she was forcefully married to a stranger. She is doubtful about this stranger's intention behind marrying her. Will she ever come to know about her stranger husband's intention?

A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," he mutters. He roughly tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  I gasp. He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.

Before our fifth mating anniversary, I was just about to tell my mate that I was about to inherit the pack my Alpha father left behind, when I saw him embracing and kissing the she-wolf who once bullied me. "This game has been going on for five years. It's time to end it." "Watching her come and go like a dog whenever called is really boring. What a fool. A fake mating certificate was enough to fool her completely. Did she really think an orphan like her could marry into the Shadowmoon Pack and become Luna? If she hadn't looked decent back then, I wouldn't have bothered with this charade." I felt like I'd fallen into an ice cave, sobbing uncontrollably. So the salvation that pulled me out of the bullying abyss was nothing but his amusing joke from beginning to end. If that's the case, I don't want this false love anymore.

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.

As a billionaire's daughter, I changed school a lot, for secrecy's sake. I never had the chance to socialize. I had guidelines on how to live my life -- rules made by my dad. I had my own trauma, though no one cared. At seventeen, I had to change -- I guess that's part of growing up. I fell in love. I wish I didn't. Breaking boundaries really is dangerous, I didn't acknowledge that. He had to die cause of my disobedience. Being a public figure sometimes can be a curse. It was for me. Years later, when I thought I'd forgotten him, I met someone else, just like my Damien. I believed it was Damein. Who knows? I had to keep him safe. I'll definitely break boundaries but this time, as a wounded dog who is back for a big fight. I'll fight for my freedom. No matter what it takes.

On Valentine's Day, I set up a candlelit dinner and waited. At 9 PM, my husband, Alfred Johnston, finally texted. [Something came up at work. Don't wait for me.] Then I saw her post. [On a business trip with the CEO for Valentine's Day. Every hotel is fully booked—awkward...] Vivian Bianca, his secretary. Attached was a photo of a guy in a bathrobe, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were all 'ooh, CEO's so hot and girl, you're in for a night.' Vivian? Just dropped a smug emoji. So that's what "something came up" meant—a romantic getaway with his secretary. I screenshotted it, posted it on my own feed, and added a smiling emoji. A second later, Alfred called, fuming. "Vivian was joking! Why are you so petty? She's young, not as calculating as you!" I didn't let him finish. "Then let's get a divorce. That way, I won't have to care when you screw around and catch something."

Sierra Ascott is heir to the infamous Ascott mafia Family, the only surviving child of Henri Ascott. Ever since her mother and older brother died due to an accident, she’s been homeschooled and protected from the outside world. Her only friend is her pet dog, Winnie, and her cousin, Rosie. Colton William Rhodes is a rebellious young man who has just taken over his dad’s mafia estate after his abrupt death. Colton is convinced that his father’s death is no accident. After a private investigation, he learns that the Ascott family is to blame. In order to exact revenge, Colton decides to kill Sierra’s father on her 18th birthday party. But as fate would have it, the pair meets and sparks are flying. Colton finds himself enamored with this girl and he's had a change of plans. "I'll marry her," he says. "That will be my revenge," *Warning: Contains Mature Content. Enter At Your Own Risk*