Dress Putih Pendek Novels & Stories

“So, tell me about yourself Mr. Davenport?” she asks. I don’t look up from my computer, as I log in. “What do you want to know, Miss Harvey?” I ask her. "Are you perhaps dating anyone right now?" she asks. I look up at her surprised by her question. I shake my head. "No..." it’s true I’m not dating anyone right now. Her smile brightens. “That’s good.” She tells me. I frown, “Why would that be good exactly?” I ask, I look back at the screen and see Kendell hasn’t arrived at the sight yet, I’m about to tell her when she speaks again. “So Mr. Davenport, do you find little old me attractive?” she asks me. I look at her… “What are you getting at Miss Harvey?” I ask her. “Come humor me…” she tilts her head. I sigh. “I’d be a fool not to find you attractive, though I don’t know how that’s of any pertinence to right now." I tell her. She smiles. “So what do you say Mr. Davenport, or can I call you Blake?” I ask her. I have no idea what she’s up to. I choose to ignore her. She moves closer to me. “Come on now, don’t ignore me.” she says. I look at her, a little dress that leaves little to the imagination. She’s leaning onto the desk giving me a full view of her breasts. Is she hitting on me? She is hitting on me right? “So how sturdy is this desk exactly?” she asks. I take her in, it’s been four years since I’ve so much as touched a woman sexually. Hell I can’t even tell if she’s flirting with me.

I hadn't seen my mafia husband, Luca Moretti, and our daughter Dora in three whole months. Why? Because his mother, Fiona, said Dora should stay with her "for a while." And Luca? He was "too busy with business," as always. So when Luca finally called and said he was going to pick me up for a family reunion at the villa, I was overjoyed. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd finally get to hold my little girl again. I spent the whole damn day running around the city, buying her favorite dolls, snacks, a new pink dress, anything I thought would make her smile at me again. But when the car arrived, it wasn't what I imagined. Before I could even say Hi, Dora turned her head, took one look at me… and then wrapped her arms even tighter around Maria, the maid. She buried her face in Maria's neck like I wasn't even there. Like Maria was her mom. I tried to approach her, but Dora straight-up told me she didn't want to ride in the same car as me. And Maria, wearing that fake, polite smile, kept trying to gently talk me into giving Dora "a little more time." I looked over at Luca, hoping he'd step in. Instead, he just looked annoyed, like he couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help fix things between me and our daughter. Clearly, they didn't want me there. So what was the point of trying to join the ride? I stepped back from the SUV. Then Luca just turned to me and said, "Just wait here. I won't be long." What he'll never understand is… I'm done waiting for him.

He was her only escape… or so she thought. [{EXCERPT}] "MARRY ME!" Alana shouted just as he reached the door. Roman stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned, amusement flickering in his cold eyes before a low, cruel laugh slipped past his lips. “Seems you’ve finally lost all sense,” he said when the laughter faded. He stepped closer, his towering frame swallowing the space between them as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “What makes you think you can make such a bold request, Alana?” he murmured, his cold fingers brushing against her lips. A shiver ran through her, stealing her voice for a moment. Then she straightened, her fists tightening at her sides. “Because I’ll be the best wife you could possibly ask for,” she said, forcing confidence into her tone as a small smile curved her lips. Roman tilted his head, a dark smirk forming. “Is that so?” he whispered, his hand slipping beneath her dress as she gasped. –––– After escaping the suffocating grip of her abusive family, Alana believes she’s finally free. But freedom comes at a price. Roman Ashford is everything she should avoid. A cunning billionaire. New York’s most eligible bachelor. A man whose name alone unsettles the entire business world. One unexpected encounter pulls her into his orbit, binding her to him in a dangerous arrangement as his fake girlfriend for thirty-one days. But just as she begins to find her footing, her past comes back to choke her. To secure the inheritance her late father left behind before her mother claims it, Alana must find a husband. With time running out, she makes a reckless decision and turns to the one man she should never trust, making a deal that could ruin her utterly.

18+ WARNING: This story contains extreme explicit content, including non-consensual to consensual themes, breeding, public humiliation, degradation, taboo elements, rough anal, and graphic sexual acts. Not suitable for readers under 18. Proceed with caution - this is dark, filthy erotica with no redemption arc. I was always the extra daughter, unwanted, unseen, and disposable. While my sister Lia was cherished, I was the one they sold to save everything. On her wedding day, I became the bride instead. Veiled and silent, I was forced into Adrian Laurent’s bed, the cold, ruthless billionaire who had fallen for her picture. That night, he didn’t know it was me. Drunk and burning with lust, he pinned me down, ripped my wedding dress open, and fucked me like a man possessed. He buried himself deep inside me with every brutal thrust, groaning Lia’s name against my throat while I came apart beneath him, shattered by unwanted pleasure. The next morning, disgust replaced his hunger. Humiliated and blamed for a crime I didn’t commit, I became his invisible wife, used, ignored, and broken. He only used me to satisfy his cravings for sex, fucking me whenever he sees me in the house, ruthless forcing his dick in to my mouth and dipping it down my throat filling me up with his cum. After fucking me like a sex slave, I would catch him having soft sex with my sister like he was a puppy before her. Until the secret growing in my belly gave me the strength to run. Years later, I returned. Rich. Powerful. Untouchable. But the moment Adrian sees me again, and lays eyes on the children who carry his blood, his obsession ignites. He will never let me go again. And this time, he won’t be gentle

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.

Zesa Russo commands the boardroom with the same precision and confidence she brings to every aspect of her life. At 28, she’s the fierce CEO of Techya, a company she’s built from the ground up. Driven, unrelenting, and unapologetically bold, she’s never been one to wait for a prince charming to come sweep her off her feet—instead, she’s the force that shapes her own destiny. And her destiny has always involved him. The man who had once eluded her grasp, the one she had silently craved for years. But Zesa isn’t the kind to let love slip through her fingers. No. She's determined to make him hers, no matter what. Slowly, inevitably, she knows he’ll surrender his heart to her—just like everything else she’s ever set her sights on. ____ Levi’s mischievous gaze locks onto mine, daring, seductive, his lips curving into a slow smirk as he steps closer. “Should I stop?” His voice is velvet, deep and teasing, laced with danger. But I don’t flinch. “No,” I breathe, my pulse quickening, every nerve in my body on edge. His smirk deepens, a dark promise in his eyes as his fingers slowly trace the hem of my dress, lifting it with agonizing precision. The whisper of fabric against my skin sends shivers down my spine. His lips—warm, soft, and skilled—graze the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Levi’s hand slips beneath the fabric, fingertips brushing against my desire, teasing, drawing out a soft gasp from me. The heat between us is suffocating, yet intoxicating. “Levi…” My voice trembles as he nips gently at my thigh, his breath hot against my skin. “You’ll be the one begging me to stop,” he murmurs, the promise in his words thick, dripping with need.

Shantali Mae Cross, a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts, encounters an impossible phenomenon during her night shift—smoke from the heating vents coalesces into the form of a cobra near ancient Egyptian canopic jars, showing her visions of possible futures. She sees herself accepting a promotion, arguing with a dark-haired man in a hospital, wearing a wedding dress, and standing at a graveside in autumn. Shaken by the experience, Shantali becomes obsessed with understanding what she witnessed, diving into research about serpent smoke divination practices. Her investigation reveals that others throughout history have experienced similar visions at crucial crossroads in their lives, but those who became consumed with interpreting and controlling their prophetic glimpses inevitably destroyed the very relationships and opportunities the visions had shown them. As Shantali spirals deeper into her research, she begins shutting out her boyfriend David, a fellow security guard who loves her deeply. When David witnesses the cobra phenomenon himself, he helps ground her in reality rather than obsession. Through her studies, particularly the warnings left by Dr. Amelia Thorne—a researcher who died alone after chasing similar mysteries—Shantali realizes the cobra's true message: choose love over fear, presence over obsession. The visions weren't warnings of tragedy but glimpses of a life fully lived with all its ordinary struggles and profound connections. When David proposes, Shantali chooses their real relationship over her pursuit of supernatural answers. She completes her research by writing a fictional novel about her experience, transforming obsession into art while helping future cobra witnesses understand that some mysteries are meant to guide rather than be solved. The story explores themes of choice versus destiny, the danger of sacrificing present love for future certainty, and the wisdom of embracing life's uncertainties alongside those who love us.

Just then, he pulled her closer to him and placed his hands softly on her waist. Belle’s heart was racing faster than it had ever done before. She couldn’t believe what was happening. He was taller than her and she loves a man who was taller than her. Ronnie’s brain reeled from sensory overload. Belle’s honeysuckle scent,her red velvet lips, shoved him to the brink. It had been a long time. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, he whispered in her ear with a soft voice; “Can i kiss you?” Belle was almost trembling but not because she was afraid. It was because she had waited for this moment and it was finally happening. She stared right back into his eyes and nodded in consent. Ronnie smiled at her softly. She could tell he was pleased by her approval. He pulled her closer again. This time, so his body was brushing against hers. Her boobs were touching his broad and chiseled chest. He could see her black bra through the dress she wore which showed off her cleavage. It drove him wild seeing them. She felt him nudging at her lower thighs. He felt really big she thought. He breathed deeply as he ran his hands through her hair and face. He softly held her chin up closer to his face so his lips could touch her soft moisturized lips and then he kissed her. Her lips felt so soft he couldn’t stop kissing them. She wondered if she had finally found the perfect guy to prove to her friends she’s a real lover girl and not a nonchalant girl who hates or doesn’t really care about love.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

18+ Mature content. - - - - Skye Hale swore she'd never let another person she loved die without answers. Her mother was silenced by a cartel hit, the case buried by the very agency she served. Skye became the hunter instead. Undercover. Relentless. Willing to burn everything to uncover the truth. Then Zane, the only man who ever made her feel safe, forced her to choose: him or the ghosts. She chose him. They planned a wedding. She almost believed she could leave the darkness behind. Three days before the vows, her best friend Red was gunned down in the same strip club where she danced to survive. The same cartel. The same cover-up. The morning she was supposed to walk down the aisle, an anonymous file landed in her phone. Proof that Red died trying to help her, and the killer's trail led straight back to the man who once ran her mother's missions. Skye walked out in her wedding dress, left Zane at the altar, and vanished into the night. Now deep in Australia’s dangerous underworld, she works as a stripper to infiltrate the cartel. The sexual addiction she buried years ago has roared back stronger than ever. Every slow, sensual grind on stage, every pair of hungry hands sliding over her bare skin, feeds the raw, aching hunger she can no longer control. As Skye seduces dangerous men for information, the stakes rise dangerously high. A former colleague wants her dead. The protector sent to bring her home hides a shocking betrayal. And the powerful man who ordered her mother’s murder is closer than she imagined, close enough to touch, close enough to taste. One wrong move, and she'll lose her life. One right touch, and she'll lose herself. Skye Hale came for justice. She might leave in ashes.