Forbidden Stories Romane & Geschichten

We’ve read so many forbidden stories… we’ve come a long way with No Saints! The tension, the sins, the things that shouldn’t happen, but always do. But this chapter is different. This one isn’t forbidden. There’s no hiding, no guilt. Just a husband and his wife. A mate and her Alpha. This scene is taken from my book A luna’s Revenge, and it can be read on its own. To read Alexander and Abigail’s full story, search A luna’s Revenge by Ebi Happy on GoodNovel.

I hadn’t done that in years. “Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly. “Do what?” “Talk about tattoos like they’re people.” “Because they are,” I said. “They breathe through the skin. They tell stories people can’t say out loud.” He looked down at the mark I was drawing. “And what do mine say?” I met his eyes. “That you don’t know how to let go, even when you want to.” He gave a small laugh, but it wasn’t mocking. “You read people, don’t you?”

"Shut up! Women should not speak while a man is talking! You do not talk when men are talking!” I froze. "You women," he sneered, "you are all worthless aside from the kitchen-- warming a husband's bed and pushing out son after son. You were born to serve, not to speak." Somewhere inside me, something snapped, I itched to talk back , but I kept my mouth shut. I'm not getting killed for opening my stupid trap. Then he pointed at me once again. "And this one-this thing-isn't my daughter. She's a witch! She ate all the sons her mother was supposed to have. That's why none of them lived!"

“One drink. And you stay close to me. No wandering off.” Relief flooded through me as well as something much more dangerous than that. “Thank you.” I’d told my best friend I was exploring for the night. I was supposed to give her the details after I was back, but how could I tell her I met her father at a BDSM club and told him to show me around?

“Something controlled. Dignified. ‘His Royal Highness Prince Aragorn and Miss Daisy Harlow are in a committed relationship and respectfully request privacy as they navigate this new chapter together.’ That sort of thing.” I let out a shaky laugh. “It sounds like a press release written by lawyers, not something that actually sounds like us.” “Because it is.” He sighs, the sound heavy even through the line. “But if we don’t shape the narrative now, the tabloids will do it for us. They’re already speculating wildly, calling you an opportunistic commoner, questioning your motives, inventing pregnancy rumors. One rag even suggested you’re after the crown jewels.” “Charming,” I mutter. “Really se

Willow wasn’t sure she should approach the gathering, so she slowly looked around the area closer to her. On a table to her right were various sex toys: dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, and a few things Willow didn’t recognize. A small card in the middle of the toys read, “Find all these and more at Censored Gifts!” Hanging on the wall above the table were whips and floggers, which both instilled fear and made her pussy tingle more than it already was.

he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. I ignored the offer. Instead, I walked around the side of his desk and perched on the edge of it, right next to his scattered papers. My skirt hiked higher, exposing more of my smooth thighs. I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, letting the movement tease him with the possibility of seeing what was — or wasn’t — underneath. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your lecture yesterday,” I continued, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. “About how the most intense pleasure often comes from what we’re told we can’t have. The forbidden. The risky. The wrong.”

My voice came out softer than I wanted. “You can.” His hand moved. His fingers brushed over my wrist as he turned the page. It was not an accident. I felt the rough pad of his thumb slide slowly across the inside of my wrist. He left it there for a second longer than he needed to. “But you have to stop being scared of the heat. This story has real heat in it, Lila. Don’t sand it down. Don’t make it polite. Write the dirty truth.”

Maybe I wasn’t the only one losing my mind. I rubbed two fingers over my swollen lips, feeling my wetness soaking my panties. It didn’t even take long for me to get this soaked. “Fucking hell,” I whispered. What was wrong with me? I opened my camera, hesitated for a moment, and then I took a picture of my fingers with my arousal soaked around them. I stared at it for several seconds, my thumb hovering over the send button. ME _Look at what you did to me_ The moment the message went through, I nearly threw my phone across the room.

I told myself I would say no. For three days, I told myself that. I walked along the river in the cold, drank my coffee and rehearsed all the sensible reasons. He was a stranger. I had never heard his voice. The conditions he had written, so carefully were the kind of thing a woman should run from.