Everytime We Touch

"Mommy, we found a daddy!" My twins have brought three powerful men for me to choose a husband. The most powerful and handsome man in the world is standing before me, saying, "I gave you my virginity, won't you take responsibility?" "Darling, I was wrong, please come back to me," my ex-husband who once sold my innocence for his own gain and abandoned me for my sister is on his knees begging me for me to get back with him. Even the in-laws and adopted family, who once despised and tormented me are now at my feet, begging for forgiveness. "Baby, we finally found you," the mysterious family I never expected, who've been waiting for me their whole lives. Meanwhile, my new in-laws are ready to fight the world for me, "She’s not just our daughter-in-law, she's our daughter." And my brothers-in-law, standing with their brother, fiercely ready to even burn the world for me, "If anyone dares to touch our sister-in-law, they won't even leave ashes behind."

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

The night before my wedding, my best friend flew back from overseas to attend my bachelor party. We were just having a few drinks when his stomach started acting up, so I quickly reached into his bag for his medication. Instead of pills, I found a naughty remote control. I grinned mischievously and waved a hand toward him. “Didn’t know you were getting this wild overseas, man.” He smiled awkwardly and told me to just hand him the medicine and not to touch anything else. Alas, his reaction made me even more curious. So I purposely pressed on one of the buttons. The next second, my fiancee, who was sitting right next to us, shuddered.

It started with a glance. A smirk. A touch that lingered too long. He’s the boy they warned me about—inked, broken, addicted to danger. My stepbrother. The walking sin who thrives off chaos and knows exactly how to make a good girl come undone. We were forced into this family. But I was the one who let him into my bed. My head. My heart. He tastes like trouble. Kisses like he owns my soul. And when he tells me I'm his—even if the world burns for it—I believe him. Because I didn't just fall for my stepbrother. I fell into the darkness with him. And now, I don’t want to find the light.

“You’re just like a sister to me.” Those were the actual words that broke the camel’s back. Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other’s arms. I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn’t cross. He wasn’t just anyone, he was my brother’s best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting. But that night… we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real.... so I begged him to touch me. To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind. And he did. He held me like I was something fragile. Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe. Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could. So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain. Now, five years later, I’m back. Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold. And the man waiting for me at the airport isn’t my brother. It’s Tristan. And he's not the guy I left behind. He's a biker. An Alpha. And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

He was forbidden. I never should have set my eyes on him and now because of me, he's dead. To top it off, I'm engaged to someone else. Guess it's not the best time to tell my father and fiancee that I'm expecting. This baby is the only memory I have of him. The only thing that reminds me what we had was not a dream. When my father finds out, I'm forced to run and end up in the enemy's territory. Federico Gambone has no morals. He sees something he wants, he takes it. End of story. Since I know how much he covets part of our territory, we strike a deal. Protect me until I give birth and I will give him half of the Vincelli territory. What I didn't realize was that to honor my end of the deal, I had to become someone else. I had to transform myself into the Black Queen. A woman even the devil is wary of. ----- Tropes; FORCED PROXIMITY, HE FALLS FIRST, TOUCH HER and I WILL UNALIVE YOU, POSSESSIVE MC & Your healthy amount of steam.

"His body was sin and I was a sinner.To keep myself safe I hide in the world and let life move around me.My new partner, Nathan, isn’t safe. Far from it.The darkness coils around him, hidden by a shield created by a blinding smile. But those who live in shadows see past the façade we create.Even in darkness, there is light. A spark that ignites, then explodes.Every filthy word from his mouth, every possessive touch—I crave them, need them. Violent and passionate and everything I need to fill the void inside me, but one thing is missing.He can never love me.More than my heart is on the line, and I don’t know if I’ll survive our breach."

Rule 1: Don’t fall in love with me Rule 2- Don’t touch my things Rule 3: This is not your home, don’t decorate/ change anything Rule 4: Stay out of my Business Rule 5: Don’t ever be seen in public with another man. Rule 6: Don’t touch me. Rule 7: Don’t ever enter my room You know the things about Contract Marriage, they come with rules right? Rules are meant to be broken, but that's just my thoughts. My 6’5 husband, the epitome of irresistible allure and captivating mystery prefers I follow his rules while he's all busy. But the thing is, we both needed this marriage so why should it be His rules? I mean I know I got my own rules and I'll be damn if he doesn't follow them just as I do his. Even I know how to dress up and look good. Now he's thrown into the corner with my rules, it's a battle he intends on winning but tough shit cause so do I. But those are not the only rules that should not be broken, is it? The rules of the heart cannot be obey and Dammit if he doesn't make me swoon but this is our Marriage, Our rules.

I loved my foster brother, Cayden, for five years—five years of hiding, lying, and choking on the shame that came with every kiss, every touch, every lie. I should have hated myself for it, but I loved him too much for that to matter. I thought we had a future, until his first love, the one who had once shattered him, returned without warning. Suddenly, I was nothing more than a dirty secret. While he smiled at his engagement party, I was lying in a hospital bed, waiting for death, worn down by my heart condition and his cold neglect. I was as good as gone. Until Miles, who would later become my fiancé, saved me. A year later, I came back—with a loving fiancé, a healthy body, and a new life. Cayden seemed broken by my “death,” but all I felt was bitter irony. We were foster siblings, never meant to be together. He was just a mistake from my past, a mistake I swore I’d never repeat. But life didn’t turn out as smooth as I imagined. Miles carried secrets, and Cayden… he wasn’t ready to let me go.

I step into his office and he's waiting for me seated behind his desk. He eyes me intently. His amber eyes bore deep like he's trying to look into my soul. My face is neutral with so expressed emotions. “You can't work under me anymore Ms. Robinson.” He says and I wonder why am not surprised. So the rumors were true. “Are you firing me sir?” I ask and everytime I say the word Sir it feels so foreign in my tongue even now. He sighs and gets up from his seat staring at me with a professional look on his face. “I can't continue like you don't know what I want Ms. Robinson.” He replies and I frown not wanting to get into the same topic once more. I look away. “You know it's not possible. You are....married sir.” And I am forced to go down memory lane which brings nothing but pain and sadness. It had been four years since he left to study abroad. He left me with the hope of him returning and uniting with me. For our love. We loved each other since elementary school and I even did the deed at fifteen. I waited for him. I depended on his promise and didn't look anywhere else for love because my heart had already been claimed by him. But I was in for a shock and a pain wrenching stab to my chest when he returned but not alone. He returned not as mine but as someone else's. He was far away from me now. He returned as a married man with his wife. Now he wants me back but not as his equal but as his secret lover. As his mistress.