Forehead Touching

“Don't worry, I am not the type that touches a woman without her consent” He said and then stood up and moved closer to me, he suddenly bent over catching me off guard. The smell of his strong masculine cologne hitting my nostrils and damn he smells so good. His mouth was almost touching my ear but no skin contact was made. “They beg me to touch them” His voice suddenly went dangerously low and it made me nervous and excited . Goosebumps broke out on my skin and I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. After running away from her abusive stepfather at the age of 15, Athena tries to get her life back together and forget about all the pains and trauma she endured at the hands of her stepfather but just when things started to look up for her, the universe fucks her in the face and her past comes back to haunt her. But what she thinks to be a nightmare happens to be a blessing in a really good disguise.

Who isn't happy here ? Me Cansu isn't happy here because my husband doesn't love me. He keep telling me you are special but one can crushed someone's heart who is special in their life. His only headache is his business, his company , his position as CEO. "You are my husband then why she keep touching you, kissing you." "Don't be a brat .I have a dream and this position as CEO is important to me . Stop nagging like a stupid wife" "Now, I am a stupid wife . Is she good in bed or what?" "Control your tongue or ..." he hissed and in reply I slapped him. He jerked me into his body and kissed me hard. "No more kisses Mr. CEO" with saying I detached me from him and challenged him " I am your wife. Let's see who are you after fifteen days, her ceo or my husband?"

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?” I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?” He repeated, “Can you handle it?” My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?” That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn. Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought. Back then, when I agreed to let him proceed with a fake wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Miles Carter thought our cold war was over. When he explained things to me, he said, “Vivian and I will only be married on paper. The ceremony is just to satisfy my mom. I swear, when this is over, we’ll live as a real couple.” I remained silent. I just stared at the countdown on my phone, counting the days until I could finally leave. He did not know that the moment he tricked me into signing the divorce papers, our marriage had already ceased to exist.

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

Introduction A year ago, I had my eyes on the winning prize in the arena - a rare red gemstone, and wanted to win it back as the mating ring with my Alpha mate Damien. Just as I was about to claim victory and take the prize, Damien's secretary Celia stepped forward to challenge me. Damien laughed helplessly. "Young girls love these shiny things. As the Luna of our pack, you should be generous and let her have them, okay?" I refused outright and defeated her. That day, Celia ran off the platform crying. I proudly showed Damien my prize. He kissed my forehead helplessly. "My stubborn little wildcat." After our mating ceremony, he claimed me night after night for a whole year, in every way imaginable, never giving me a moment's rest. But one year later, I received an invitation to a private combat arena. Videos and photos of me beneath Damien, my eyes hazy with desire, were brazenly displayed as the victor's prize. Damien had his arm around Celia's waist. "Don't you love fighting? There are over a hundred people here. I'll have them challenge you one by one. Whoever wins gets a sex tape of you and me. A whole year's worth."

The room is dimly lit, the air is filled with the smell of sex and alcohol; the guy laying next to the girl is panting heavily. She on the other hand is laying next to him, all curled up; soft whimpers are coming out of her lips. The guy wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pushes her a little away from him. She opens her eyes halfway through and stares at the guy, his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his dark brown eyes are closed. His sharp features are glistening, when the little rays of the sun hits his face that is coming in through the window. Forwarding her hand, she caresses his thin lower lip with her index finger and closes her eyes. "Get out." He says in a harsh tone from beside her. Her eyes flutter open completely hearing his harsh words; she always thinks why he acts so badly with her? Retracting her hand back to herself she sits up, her lower belly aches in the bitter sweet pain. A groan comes out of her mouth and her hands go straight to on top of her lower belly, to caress it. His clothes and hers are scattered around on the floor. The entire room is a mess, the bed sheet is all crinkled; pillows are off the bed.

Her only sin was having a killer body and innocent face which made the dreaded mafia lord, Lord Cassano obsessed with her. Shaking him off was impossible, he was everywhere. And he must have her, whether she liked it or not. It doesn't matter if he needed to cripple her boyfriend, or threaten her with the lives of her parents to make it happen. All he knew was that Aurora was his, and he was determined to keep her, no matter the cost or consequence. **** “Is this what you call love? You psycho! Every other day, I get kidnapped or threatened by your rivals and numerous enemies, get caught in a gun fire and witness your brutality. You have taken away my freedom and molded me into something I don't recognize. Yes, money is good. But this is not the kind of life I want for myself. I can't bear the curse of being your woman, set me free.” I roared, my eyes blazing with fury. I was past caring at this point, I can't survive this mad man. He hated being challenged, he might as well kill me. But to my surprise, psycho cupped my face and placed his forehead on mine with the most tender expression I have ever seen in his eyes. “I'm sorry, baby love. You have underestimated the degree of my selfishness. I will never let you go—unless you kill me.”

“…How dare you do this to me, Conrad? How dare you sleep with my sister right next to my bedroom?” I scream at the top of my voice. My voice breaks in two halves. My hands won't stop shaking. My forehead is beaded with sweat. "Ashanti, please I can explain!" Conrad begs as he tries to step down from the bed, but he can't because he's stark under the comforter. "Ashanti, what the are you doing in my bedroom?" Rhea screams at the top of her voice and I drag my eyes from Conrad and plaster them on her face. She doesn't look scared or guilty like Conrad. "And what the are you doing in bed with my boyfriend?" I ask, raising my voice as well. "I just him. What are you going to do about that" …. After red handedly catching her boyfriend in bed with her step-sister, Ashanti thought things couldn’t get any worse for her until the Lycan Beta showed up at her father’s pack and picked her together with her step-sister as for the Lycan Harem who will stand the chance to be chosen as a mate for the ruthless Lycan King. On the same day she arrives at the Harem, she finds her mate… Read to find out the identity of her mate and how things pan out for her in that Harem.

TRIGGER WARNING: Contains sexual content, violence, slavery, and abuse. 18+ only. Read at your own risk. ~ ALPHA IAN ~ I’ve got a stunning wife. But I don’t love her. Hell, I don’t even like her. She’s just there—to be used, by me… and every male I allow. In my pack, power is everything. We share our women. We crush weaker packs for sport. Love? Mates? That’s a fairytale— The Moon Goddess cursed us long ago, and we stopped believing in that shit. But then I raided the Blood Moon Pack… And found her. A filthy little omega. Weak. Fragile. Worthless. She was supposed to be nothing. Yet here I am, obsessed. I can’t stand anyone touching her. I want to tear her clothes off… Grip her thighs and shove myself deep inside her sweet, untouched body. Again. And again. Until she knows who owns her. I want to break her. Mark her. And make her beg for more.