Footmen Wearing Special Uniforms

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it. Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married. I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship. I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them. I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive. Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application. After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously: "So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?" I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart— This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application. After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced. But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

Note: This story contains elicit contents and it's rated 18+ "What are you doing?" she asked him with gritted teeth, she can't bear it anymore, not to mention she is always aroused whenever she saw the man but the man wasn't making it easier for her too, she can feel his body heat as they sat down and it was intoxicating, she felt that she was about to loss all her sense of reasoning, "What are you talking about?" Cillian asked, his baritone voice reverberated on Emma's body and she gulped hard, her body shuddered slightly from pleasure, "Can..Can we begin?" she stuttered, so much aroused to think properly, "Of course" replied the male "You see, things about businesses, just for an example, in terms of clothe businesses?" he said and touched the cloth she was wearing, that wasn't the issue but were he touched was, in between her legs, on the center of her pussy, her cunt, when his hand clasped there he felt how wet she was, she subconsciously moaned whilst tilting her head back, the irresistible lust that she has being trying to resist for long, the temptation that she has tried all she could to avoid, will it all succumb today?...

My name is Isabella Wright. In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. I take out the sachet I find in the charm and bring it to Cursley Hospital. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, I think you need to visit the psychiatrist. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

"Take off your panties, princess. I want to see the pussy that’s been soaking the sheets and moaning my name in her sleep every night, while wearing my son’s ring.” "Yes, daddy." * Reina thought marriage meant love. But for two long, aching years, all it gave her was cold nights and a husband who never touched her. She was starving. And Domenico Gravano—her devil father-in-law—was the only man who ever made her feel full. He’s twice her age. Deadly. Filthy rich, and built like a god. The kind of man who doesn’t ask. He takes. And when he sees the way she shivers under his stare, he doesn’t hesitate. He gives her everything she's always wanted. It’s forbidden. It's filthy. And it’s about to become her obsession. But Domenico doesn’t do soft. He doesn’t do love. He does control. He does power. He does ownership. And Reina? She’s about to find out what happens when a Gravano decides to make you moan… and never stop. He’s her father-in-law. He’s her first real pleasure. He’s the man who will destroy them both… just to keep her.

******************COMPLETED BOOK***************************** This book is a standalone for story 2 from the book Wild Adventures. Readers should be warned, there are explicit scenes in the book you might not want to be reading. *****************Super Steamy and wildly erotic********** Denny started to caress her as she obeyed his orders.  She was wearing a red velvet dress with its length up to her mid-thighs. The fabric was soft to his touch but her smooth and aromatic skin added fuel to his excitement and urged him to knead her everywhere he could reach and touch. Her exposed skin was not too much and not too little. For Denny, what he could see was enough to tease him into finding out what beauty was hidden underneath her clothes. The service girl started moaning in pleasure, but her every move held coquetry that teased the aroused man even more. Her erotic reactions didn’t make him rush to finish this heavenly taste of delectations but made him want to enjoy teasing each other for a more explosive ending. "Do you like it...?" The man whispered. He was feeling so aroused beyond redemption, but he was also unconsciously concerned if she was feeling the same as him. "Yes, sir," she answered obediently with her face turning beet red in embarrassment and delight. Denny wanted to do more. He was aching to do more.... but he knew there were rules.

She was once the cherished daughter of a respected professor, but now, she is nothing more than a shadow in the city-poor, struggling, and alone. Whispers follow her wherever she goes. Beauty like hers, they say, is a curse for a girl without power. They assume she'll do anything for money. But she is fire, untamed and unbroken. The university, once her father's legacy, is now under the control of a powerful man-a man who watches her with a cruel smile, waiting for the moment she will break. He holds the strings to her fate, dragging her into a silent war where wealth and control always win. Then, he returns. The boy who once played by her side, the boy who vanished the night of the tragedy, is back-no longer a friend, no longer the boy she knew. Now, he stands at the front of the lecture hall, wearing the title of Professor. His cold, unreadable eyes lock onto hers. His touch lingers like a ghost from the past. He helps her in the shadows, yet she feels his presence in every downfall she faces. Does he still hold the warmth of their past, or has he returned only to watch her drown? As secrets unravel and desires ignite, she must decide-fight against the power that seeks to destroy her, or surrender to the darkness lurking within the man she once called her own.

On our wedding anniversary, my husband has his intern put on the custom-made wedding gown he prepared for me. "You wouldn't have looked good in a wedding gown with your baby bump, anyway. She's saving us trouble by wearing the gown for you. Think about how kind she is!" Before I can rebuke him, an earthquake happens. I lose my balance and fall to the floor. Instantly, I feel moisture on my legs. At the same time, my husband received a call from his intern. "There are so many frogs here, Mr. Quinn. I'm so scared…" My husband turns to leave, but I grab his pant leg. "Ethan, I—" "It's just a minor earthquake—the ground barely even shook. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Didn't you hear Chloe crying because she was so scared? Can't you be sympathetic?" He ignores the blood pooling around me and hurries off to comfort Chloe Bennett. That night, they share a passionate kiss under a sky full of fireworks. Meanwhile, my child dies in my belly. It's a pretty good way to end things. Someone like Ethan Quinn doesn't deserve to have his own children.

On the day of my wedding with my girlfriend, I was unexpectedly informed by the hotel that our ceremony had to be postponed by a couple of hours. With no time to notify relatives and friends of the change, I had to rush to the hotel entrance to intercept guests. Upon arriving, I was stopped at the door by security, who told me that a wedding was currently taking place inside. The host's voice could be heard as I saw my girlfriend, wearing a veil, smiling and extending her hand to a man who was half-kneeling. In the audience, all the bride's relatives who were supposed to attend our wedding were seated, clapping and cheering. The man on stage was her dream guy and also my current superior. Seeing me causing a commotion, my girlfriend warned me, "I'm just helping out. Alex is your superior. I'm also doing this to help you. Don't cause any trouble." Just helping out? I had booked the wedding venue, chosen the time, designed the wedding dress, and personally sent out the invitations. How could a wedding be rearranged so suddenly? I looked coldly at the ring box the man was holding. "It seems my taste is quite similar to my yours. If that's the case, this diamond ring is yours, including the wife." My girlfriend finally panicked.