Fanum Balcony

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

What do you do when all comes crashing down? How do you react when you realize the maze is gone and the truth is what you can't handle? Love, pain, betrayal;... To what extent are you willing to go? The wedding picture Cassandra held fell to the floor shattering into thousands of pieces just like the state of her heart. ‘’My heart is in just as same state as this picture” She crawls her way to the balcony overlooking the beautiful city. A life of a perfect housewife, a perfect wife and partner, now she looks back and it had been nothing but a joke. She stares one more time at the beauty of the city beneath her. ‘’What a waste”’ she spat angrily. Letting her fragile body fall from the 8 floors of an apartment bought with her own money. ‘’Time is all I wish for’’ she whispers. Falling and letting her blood graze the hard tar. Frank and Kelly watched with a satisfied look, not seeing the third eye from the corner who watched with pain written all over him. 6 years is what she offered, standing before two men on her wedding day, Cassandra wakes up. She had to choose a groom, will she go back with this man or would she take her chances into finding out what another 6 years would be in the hands of those longing eyes that watched her fall to her death or the hands that pushed her?’’

After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle. The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him. Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure. Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets. I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink. We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant. It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor. "Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?" "I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match." The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie. If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

A year ago, when Bailey Knight's side girl, Lucy Day, showed up in front of me, causing a scene, he had his people beat her until she lost the baby and tossed her out. Then he groveled before me for three straight hours, begging me to forgive him. Looking at the man I'd loved for ten years, looking so pitiful and broken, I eventually caved. Later, I caught Lucy sneaking around Bailey's villa in the suburbs, so I had her thrown out again. Three days before our wedding, Bailey grabbed me by the neck and shoved me up against the railing on the second-floor balcony, yelling so hard that his voice broke. "We already took Lucy's baby once! She can't handle it happening again. She's fragile. You're a woman—how can you not understand that? "I've given you the title of Mrs. Knight. I'd give you my life. Isn't that enough? Why can't you just accept her?" The next second, his secretary ran up to say they'd found Lucy. He shoved me down the stairs. The pain when my arm snapped made me feel like my whole body was being torn apart. But he didn't even look back. Staring at the cold, heartless man in front of me, I felt something inside me go completely dead. I picked up my phone and called Arnold Greenwood. "I don't wanna marry him anymore. Come get me."

I'm Sabrina Pembrook, Axel Callahan's stepsister, and the lover he's kept hidden for seven years. At first, I think that he'll keep me hidden for a lifetime… until the night of my birthday when he proposes. I'm so excited I can't fall asleep, and apparently, neither can Axel. In the middle of the night, I hear him walk out to the balcony to answer a call. "She said yes. Everything will proceed as planned." The voice on the other end hesitates slightly before saying, "Are you sure you can go through with it? She's your darling whom you've doted on for so long." Axel's voice turns to ice. "Well, it's her mother's fault for being a homewrecker. If it weren't for Elaine, my mom wouldn't have died. I want Elaine to die in the wedding car, just like how my mom died in a car crash." The person on the other end falls silent for a few beats before sighing. "You sure are cold-blooded. You've slept with Sabrina for so many years, and you're still going to kill her mother on the day of her wedding. And if she ever finds out she's not even the bride, she's going to lose her mind." Axel falls silent. Then, he says something else, but I don't want to listen to another word. What I thought was seven years of love finally coming to fruition… turns out to be nothing more than a plot to murder my mom. But Axel Callahan, I'm not going to let you get what you want.

He called me disposable. The Tribunal called me property. They both forgot what Lunaris does to cages. I was the Alpha’s kept woman for five years—his secret, his softness, his sin. Then, the night his missing Luna returned, Alpha Daire Vhaloren stood on the balcony with a cigarette dangling from his fingers and told me, without even looking, “You should go” So I did. Obedient. Quiet. Disposable. I left with his gifts, a deed to a house… and a secret I never planned to carry. Three months later, headlines screamed that Daire’s empire had collapsed. Frostveil Manor sealed. Nightmoor Covenant assets set for auction. The woman he “chose” over me, Calista Dravenne, smiled for the cameras like she hadn’t just burned his world to the ground. I tried to stay gone. Until the High Howl Tribunal branded me a recoverable asset and announced a “live appraisal” of Lot One—the pregnant omega they swore belonged to them. I went back for answers. What I found wasn’t the untouchable Alpha who dismissed me. It was a man with stubble on his jaw, a hunted kind of murder in his eyes… and a voice that made my knees weak when he said, “Why are you here, Elowen?” Because he rejected me once. Because he replaced me. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And because the bond he tried to throw away is coming for us both—along with the child he never knew I was carrying. Now Daire wants a contract marriage to save what’s left of his pack. I want revenge… and protection. But when an Alpha realizes the woman he discarded is his fated mate—and the lost heir of House Lunaris—he doesn’t beg politely. He hunts. ---

⚠️WARNING ⚠️ FOR MATURE READERS ONLY 🔞 The stories in this collection are highly raw, explicit content. SIN SO SWEET, takes you on a fuckathon, scenes you can visualise, bringing you into a world of forbidden cravings, intense seduction, dirty talks, NO fades to black, don't expect gentle caresses. Lust, power, and risk work together to bring pleasure, In this collection, you'll find a dominant coach who breeds his student in a competition pool, publicly risking everything. To a warehouse ritual of a woman who offers herself to five Mafia kingpins, filled and dripped with their collective sins. A horny cop pullsover a driver to fuck. Seductive secretary banged on a conference table, balcony creampies. Taboo summer where a preacher's kid, and camp rebel defiles sacred space with heated desire. A college student making out with her father's friends. Truth or dare that turns into a Fuck fest. Masturbating to seduce a neighbor. Daring fuck with a massage therapist with husband next door. Crazy sister in-law who satisfied her sister's husband right in her presence. A celebrity who turns a devoted fan to her sex toy, Ship's captain is honoured to pleasure a group of hot girls on his deck. These stories don't hold back. Watch out for domination, oral sex, corporate affairs, multiple partners, bdsm, taboo sex, forbidden pleasure, outdoor sex, gangbang, threesome, cheating partner, age gaps, deep throating, Milf seduction and fantasies. If you are a fan of erotica that gets you horny, hold onto your sex toy because these stories will get you wet. Open this book But be warned. Once you start no stopping until every filthy page is devoured This book is rated 🔞

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.