Flashing Lights Song

Nora Jensen has a plan for everything. Senior year? Mapped out. College applications? Done. Feelings for Cole Whitaker, Millbrook High's infuriatingly charming hockey star? Absolutely, categorically, not part of the plan. But when Cole shows up at her locker with that look — the desperate one he'd never admit to — and says you owe me one, Nora finds herself agreeing to the most ridiculous favor of her life. One family dinner. One fake girlfriend. Simple, clean, transactional. Except nothing about Cole Whitaker turns out to be simple. Not the way he remembers her coffee order without being asked. Not the way he describes his favorite color as pre-game ice, before they turn the main lights on. Not the way he looks at her on the porch after dinner like she's something worth keeping — and she's supposed to be pretending he isn't looking at all. Nora made a deal. She just didn't read the fine print. The part where fake dinners turn into real conversations. Where negotiated terms start feeling a lot like feelings. Where the boy you agreed to pretend to love somehow becomes the one person you can't imagine pretending about. The rules were simple. Don't hold his hand. Don't look at him like you like him. Don't fall. Two out of three isn't bad.

Los Angeles was supposed to be my home. Instead, it had always felt like a golden cage. The Smith mansion stood tall behind iron gates, glittering with wealth and silence. Servants bowed. Cameras watched every corner. And the man who called himself my uncle smiled sweetly for the world while hiding knives behind his back. I was seventeen when I heard the truth. “He will take care of the girl tonight,” my uncle said over the phone, his voice calm. “Make it look like an accident.” The girl. He meant me. Fear became the only thing that kept my legs moving. I ran from the driver who was meant to take me home, sprinting through unfamiliar streets until the bright city lights disappeared and the world turned darker. Detroit. Wrong place. Wrong time. Engines roared in the distance when I saw him. A man sitting on a black motorcycle like a shadow carved from danger. Tattoos curled up his neck. His eyes were cold enough to freeze the night. Everyone knew men like him were monsters. But monsters were sometimes the only ones who could save you. I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me.” That single moment would destroy his life. And change mine forever. *******

"Why can't I have both of you at the same time!" I shot, glaring at him. I tried to be softer with him, but he made it harder. He froze for a second, searching my face before taking my hand and stroking his thumb gently on the back. "Not so fast, pussy cat," he whispered in my ear, his free hand on my neck, pinning me head against his shoulder. "I need your cunt to get used to me to the point that you cannot satisfy yourself no matter how much you touch yourself. Only we would be able to make you cum from now on, whether you like it or not. Your cunt will only obey us because it belongs to us like all of you. Every time you need to cum, you'd have to come to us. You'd have to depend on us, giving your freedom of cumming only to us," he told me, working his fingers and hand faster. I was drenched with my wetness, and my walls were begging his fingers to let them clench, but no, he continued. TRIGGER WARNING: This is a dark romance story, so keep your fingers ready. Keep the lights low. Get your mind energized, and Baby? Let me know if you get caught up in this story. This book is rated 18+.

"You think you can humiliate me like this?!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “First, you disappear. Then you show up here, on my wedding day, with my father?!” "Are you sure I disappeared?" I smirked. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Phones were out, cameras flashing like lightning. Kael rose slowly from his knee with the ring on his hand, his towering frame making Chad look like a child throwing a tantrum. His expression was pure ice. “Watch your tone,” Kael said, his voice low and dangerous. “No!” Chad barked, stepping closer. His eyes were wild, spittle flying from his mouth. “You think you can replace me with her? You’re pathetic, old man! She’s using you, and you’re too blinded to see it!” "She's my wife now!" Kael growls. His gaze hardening. ******** Amy Stone thought she had it all: beauty, a self-made empire and a fiancé, who lived in a different city. Amy stayed loyal and true to Chad, even though this sparked constant loneliness for her. On the day she was supposed to meet him, he discharged her feelings, leaving her desires unmet. Betrayal hit most when she discovered her very best friend was the master mind. They left her for dead, thrown in a deadly piranha river to die, they stole her company, and built a life on her ruin. Amy survived, thanks to a charm bracelet she always wore since her mom's death. Now, she’s back. She is not weak this time, she is a powerful heiress. Her first move: seduce and marry Kael Woods, Chad’s father. A cold and ruthless tycoon who trusts no one. ****Trigger warning**** This story contains explicit content, and strong language, but it's definitely worth daring to read. hence proceed if you are a fan of spicy stories.***

Loriah Dee has never truly belonged. Orphaned young, with no family, she clings to the only thing that feels like home—music. Winning a scholarship to one of the country’s most prestigious universities is her one chance to chase her dream of becoming a singer. But campus life brings more than sheet music and rehearsals. It brings Draco Thorne. Draco is the heartthrob of the university—, devastatingly handsome. Only a select few know that he is a werewolf, destined for a Luna chosen by his powerful family. But from the moment he sees Loriah, he wants her. At first, she is just a distraction— a dazzling freshman with innocence in her eyes and the hottest body he has ever seen. Winning her over proves a challenge. Desperate to have her, Draco lies to gain her trust. Slowly, she lets him in. But Loriah’s world comes crashing down one night while working at an upscale restaurant. There, she sees Draco seated at a lavish family dinner, surrounded by wealth and privilege, a stunning fiancée at his side—his future wife. In an instant, every lie begins to unravel. She quietly begins to piece together the truth. Bit. She discovers the deception, the secrets, the double life he has woven around her. She has given everything to him. Her first time, her first kiss, her trust. She had bared her soul to him. But he had left her with nothing else to give, trampling on her love and leaving her to gather the pieces of her soul. By the time Draco realizes Loriah is not just another girl, but the only one he has ever truly loved, she is already gone. And he is left with nothing but regret, longing, and the hollow echo of the song she carried into his life.

Asalea's eyes narrowed. She can guess that the event is a wedding ceremony. So, she will be attending a wedding occasion? "Whose wedding is this?” she asked the man who fetched her. “Yours, Madam.”He said and then got something inside his paper bag. “Please wear this,” the man said handing her a black veil with a tiara in it, beautifully adorned with black diamonds. “What did you say?!” Asalea gasped in surprise. “This is your wedding Madam.” The young man repeated his statement. “Who shall I be marrying?” with narrowed eyes, Asalea asked again. “You will know later on. Please be ready Madam. The wedding march will start.” Then the man step aside and motioned her to walk forward when the wedding march song started to fill the whole astrodome. Asalea does not know if she will follow or will make herself invisible and run. She chose the first. She knows that she will be dead if she will run. At least they will not kill her. Looking at her elegant black gown, her veil with tiara, and the venue of the wedding; she knows she will be marrying someone of a high profile from the Glodeous Kingdom. She can still start her life here and then plan for her revenge later on against the Ecleteon werewolves. With chin held up, Asalea made her graceful walk going to the altar. Getting nearer the altar, she saw the back of a man standing in front. Asalea surmises that he might be her groom. “Hmm, not bad,” she murmured. Slowly the man turned his back and faced her when she was already walking almost beside him. Asalea's eyes grew big when she recognized the man. “Hello, my pretty vampy.” He whispered, intensely looking at her with his ocean-like deep blue eyes.

Inés never wanted to be saved. When her mother married a dying billionaire, it came with a price: living under the same roof as Miguel Alvarez, the cold, arrogant heir who treats her like she's dirt on his expensive shoes. But her mother's new marriage isn't about love. It's about survival. Because back in their old life, they owe dangerous people dangerous money. And those people don't forget. So every night while everyone thinks she's at the library, Inés dances under red lights at P-Valley, the city's most exclusive strip club. Behind a mask and a wig, she's not the boring stepsister. She's Red, untouchable, mysterious and free. Until the night Miguel walks in. He doesn't recognize her. But he can't stop watching and wanting her. At home, he ignores her. At the club, he's obsessed with her. Inés knows she should run before he discovers the truth. But she doesn't because as much as she hates him, her body betrays her every time he's near. But secrets buried in the dark always come to light. And when Miguel discovers that the girl he craves and the stepsister he despises are the same person, it won't just shatter them, it'll burn down everything they thought they knew.

On my way to the interview, my best friend—who had always warned me not to meddle in other people’s business—suddenly rushed toward the crashed luxury car without hesitation. That was when I knew she had been reborn too. In our previous life, she and I were known as the two top aces of the Finance Department. After graduation, we both made it to the final interview at one of the world’s top five hundred companies. On the day of that interview, we encountered a terrible car accident. The company’s president was inside the wreck. I gave up the interview to save him, while my friend ran straight to the interview without looking back. In the end, she got the offer, and I lost my chance at the prestigious firm. Everyone pitied me. However, the president held a grand wedding to repay me. I became the wife of my friend’s boss. I was admired and envied by all. She, on the other hand, struggled under endless performance targets. She got buried by work. At the company’s annual gala, I stood beside the president, dazzling under the lights, while she faded into the crowd—exhausted and invisible. Jealousy drove her mad. She grabbed a knife and stabbed me right there at the gala. When I opened my eyes again, she and I had both returned to the day of the president’s car accident.

This isn’t a book. It’s a violation. Of your rules. Of your morals. Of the last line between want and ruin. These aren’t stories. They’re commands. Each page is a filthy little dare to spread wider, moan louder, and let go of every ounce of control you thought you had. Because once you start reading? You don’t stop. You can’t stop. This is where innocence gets devoured by the mouths it was told to avoid. Where best friends’ daddies, strict professors, and stepbrothers with no self-control break all the rules in your head—and then break you. They’re not gentle. They’re not careful. They’re not here for love. They want your breath caught in your throat. Your thighs shaking from how much you need it. Your body betraying every thought that says “no.” They’ll pin you down with a stare. Fuck your mind until it spirals. Make you beg without even touching you. You’ll gag on the tension. Cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache of what you’re not supposed to want. So keep your fingers ready. Keep the lights low. And baby? Be warned: You’re gonna need a towel by the end. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you. It owns you. Read it loud. Feel it deeper. And don’t you dare pretend you didn’t love every depraved second of it.

My mate, Andrew Claude, is the Alpha of the Celestial Pack, the sworn rival of my father’s Venus Pack. For three years, we have hidden our bond, knowing that our union could either bring peace between the packs or ignite war. On Lunar Year's Eve, beneath the full moon’s silver glow, we stand on the castle terrace, whispering promises of our future. Tonight, we finally agree to perform our bonding ritual, sealing our fates before revealing our love to our parents. My wolf stirs in anticipation, her instincts urging me toward him. But then, Andrew leaps down into the grand fire-dance festival, his powerful wolf form shifting mid-air before landing in a flourish. The scent of burning pine and roasted venison fills the air, warriors howling in celebration. The pack’s bonfire crackles with enchanted flames, casting shadows of prowling wolves against the towering stone walls. I watch from above, heart pounding with joy—until my smile fades. In the heart of the revelry, Carol Sinclair, an Omega maid, clutches a bundle of enchanted fireworks. Andrew strides to her, a warm, easy grin on his face. With a flick of his fingers, golden flames dance from his palms, sparking the firework in her hands. "A little fire magic to help you, Carol," he chuckles. She gasps in admiration, giggling as the firework ignites—only for it to spiral out of control. It veers wildly, the enchanted embers lashing through the air. Searing pain blooms across my arm. The stench of burning flesh fills my nose. I barely react before Carol bursts into tears and flees into the crowd. Before I can speak, Andrew turns on me, his golden eyes flashing with rage. The onlookers fall silent, ears twitching to catch their Alpha’s words. “Did you bully her, Bella?” His growl rumbles deep in his chest. “Just because you’re an Alpha’s heir doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want!” The warriors glance at each other, their tails stiff with tension. I stagger back, stunned. He doesn’t even ask if I’m hurt.