Forehead Touching Novels & Stories

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

I post a wedding photo with my fiance, Miles Kingston, on my Instagram story. But I forgot to hide it from his first love, Chloe Bennett. The very next day, Miles gets his revenge. He puts our wedding night up for auction online. After the wedding ceremony, I find Miles in a private room at the restaurant, holding my phone. Then, I hear him haggling with his buddies. "One million for one night. Not a cent less." "Miles, even if Aria's still a virgin, that price is way too much!" "Too much? She's my wife! I haven't even touched her yet! Push the bid up!" Everyone in the room bursts out laughing. "Seriously? You're ditching your wife on your wedding night? What if she totally flips out?" Miles scoffs. "She showed off our wedding to Chloe and made her upset. It already kills me that I couldn't marry the woman I actually love. Besides..." He holds up a blister pack of white pills and sneers. "With this, she'll be too out of it to even know who's touching her." My phone slips from my hand and hits the floor as tears slide down my cheeks.

"Is that pussy still aching for me?" Roman breathed, his thumb tracing dangerously close without landing. "Two years of being ignored and one touch from me has you soaking through your pretty little underwear." "I hate you," I whispered, even as my hips chased his hand. "No you don't." His eyes locked on mine, dark and certain. "You hate that your husband never once made you feel this way. You hate that it's his brother who knows exactly how to ruin you." He was right and I hated him for it. ********** It shouldn't have been Roman touching me, consuming me and making me scream things I couldn't take back. He was reckless, unapologetic and completely wrong for me. He was also my husband's brother. Yet one look from him dismantled two years of careful composure. One touch and every reason to stop dissolved into nothing. I should have walked away the night he found me on that couch. Instead I said yes. And Roman Clarke never stopped collecting on that answer. This is not your normal spicy, I am here to remind you that some cravings are worth every consequence.

Ten years of marriage, and my husband slid the divorce papers across his mahogany desk. "You contributed nothing to this family. Under the prenup, you walk away with nothing." "Consider this a courtesy. Ten thousand a year. A hundred grand for a decade of your youth." "Don't even think about touching a cent of family money." I smiled and signed. I'm the kind of woman who's already died once. The next day, I took that hundred-thousand-dollar check and walked straight into the territory of his most dangerous enemy—Dominic Salucci. The man who controls half the East Coast underworld looked at me like I was inventory he hadn't ordered. "Why should I help you?" I leaned in close. "Because I know every decision Vincent Moretti is going to make for the next ten years. Every property. Every shipping route. And I know about the son he's hiding in Zurich." He studied me for a long moment. Then he smiled. "Interesting." What he doesn't know—what Vincent doesn't know—is that in my last life, men like them buried me without a second thought. This time, I'm going to watch every last one of them kneel.

WARNING: 18+ ONLY This book contains explicit adult sexual content and intense psychological and erotic themes. Not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is strongly advised. ------ Welcome to the filthy heart of sin, baby. All the Ways We Sin is a raw and unapologetic erotica collection where passion doesn’t just burn : It fucks you senseless From the thrill of your dangerous stepbrother pinning you against the wall while your parents sleep down the hall… to the shame of sneaking into your mother’s fiancé’s bed. These stories don’t play nice. They’re supernatural, sci-fi, taboo, romantic, dark, obsessive, and so dangerously addictive you’ll be touching yourself before you finish the first page. Every chapter is a brand-new sin. A fresh and wet craving. A whole new world where your desire ...always...fucking wins. Some stories will lick you slow and sweet until you’re trembling. Some will drag you into the dark, choke you with lust, and leave you bruised and dripping. Some are wild, strange, and so twisted they’ll make you cum harder than you ever have in your life. But every single one answers the same dripping question: If nobody was watching… how fucking dirty would you sin

"I love you," he gazed at her eyes which are dropped on the floor while he cups her cheeks with his palm. She doesn't look at his eyes. She seems scared. But with what he doesn't understand. "Do you not like me? Even a little bit?" his voice enunciates but she doesn't response to it. He waits for her answer but she doesn't reply him. He tries to back away from her. But as he is leaving, she holds his hands suddenly. "I don't know. I don't know whether I like you or not. I just don't want you to go away. I just don't want you to leave me," she says with the tears sparkling on her eyes. "Esther!" He presses his forehead against her as his breaths fasten. He can feel that along with his, her breaths are quickened as well. He realizes that the fire is burning on both side and she is equally anxious as she is. A smile creeps on his lips as he feels that. "I love you, Esther. You're made for me and I am made for you. We are made for each other," he smiles and presses his lips against her. "You're day dreaming one more time? What the fuck are you dreaming about Esther? Is it about my old man? Are you dreaming about him?" He pushes her against the wall and punches hard on the wall making his knuckles be red and bleed. "Nooo...Nooo... Caden! You're wrong," she cries.

Mina Mendoza never expected her quiet life to end with a blood-soaked stranger collapsing in her bar. Luciano is older, dangerous, and carries the kind of power she knows better than to get close to. One night of helping him turns into a war she never meant to step into, and the mafia world she avoided pulls her in with no way out. But the worst part is not Luciano. It is the man standing behind him. Frankie, Luciano’s younger brother, is Mina’s first love, the boy she lost and never honestly forgot. Now he is caught between loyalty to his brother and the feelings he buried years ago. Mina is trapped between the man who crashed into her life like a storm and the man who still owns a piece of her heart. As danger closes in, Mina must choose whom she trusts, whom she loves, and whom she is willing to risk everything for. Saving Luciano changed her world. Loving either brother might destroy it. ~SNEAK PEEK~ His voice dropped, low and possessive. “Fine. One kiss, then we wait.” I told him I didn’t care. “I want you now.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Once we start, there is no going back.” I nodded, and something shifted in his eyes. He leaned me back on the bed, hands braced beside me. “Are you sure?” “If I weren’t sure, we wouldn’t be here.” His kiss was deep, powerful, slow, stealing my breath. I arched into him as his mouth traced my jaw and throat, heat racing through me. “I need you,” I whispered, and everything changed.

Don Vincent White and I were known as soulmates. Everyone in the city said so. But our wedding never happened. Every time we tried, something got in the way. Bad weather. Scheduling conflicts. Emergencies. Three years ago, Vincent had to leave overseas to handle urgent family business. Before he went, he kissed my forehead and said, "I promise this is the last time. Wait for me." I believed him. So I waited. One thousand, ninety-five days. Ten days ago, he finally came back. I thought the three-year wait was over. I thought we would finally have our wedding. Then last night, I overheard him talking to his underboss, Marco Blue, outside his study. "You're really going to marry Miss Black? What about Vivian and the boy? Luca is over two years old now. He's your own son. This won't stay hidden forever." "Back when Vivian was pregnant, you made up every excuse to delay the wedding. But if Miss Black ever finds out—" Vincent's eyes cut like a blade. "Sophia must never know. My wife will only ever be Sophia. Tell Vivian to watch her mouth and keep that child in line." Luca. Two years old. His own flesh and blood. So while I spent three years waiting for him to come home and marry me, he already had someone else. A child over two years old. I stumbled back to the bedroom. Hands shaking, I called my grandfather. "Grandfather, I'm ready. I'll take your place and become the Donna."

I masterminded a half-billion-dollar art auction to wash money for Miles’s family. But at the celebration party, Miles gave all the credit to Rebecca. His childhood friend. The daughter of the family’s consigliere. I stormed into his study. “Miles, head curator was Rebecca? Are you sure about that?” He looked up from a cloud of smoke, pulling me into his arms. His voice was a low, soothing rumble. “Valerie, I know you want to prove yourself, but this was all Rebecca. Especially the Caravaggio. The real one, worth three hundred million. She’s the one who pulled it off.” His lips brushed my forehead, his breath hot. “I don’t love you because you can fix some old paintings. You’re my queen, always. My girl. You don’t have to worry about her.” I almost laughed. The anger was choking me. “She can’t tell the difference between oil and acrylic. How the hell would she know a real from a fake?” “Enough!” Miles cut me off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I know what Rebecca can do. Don’t make a scene just because you’re jealous.” His hands tightened, trapping me in his smoky embrace. “Don’t disappoint me, Valerie.” But he already had. When I’d had enough of his favoritism and his blindness, I walked. And that's when he went crazy. Scoured the earth looking for me. Begging me to come back, saying he was blind, that he’d been wrong about everything.

I bought red lingerie for a boy who didn't want me. Found him in bed with my best friend instead. I ran straight into Cain Russo. My enemy. The boy who humiliated me at fourteen and never lost a second of sleep over it. One night of rage and bad decisions later, we had a secret I planned to bury. Then our parents got married and he moved into the room next door. Now he watches me across the dinner table like he's already won something. Because he's had a taste and he hasn't forgotten it. So he made me a bet. Three orgasms. Ten minutes. If he wins, two weeks of me. Anywhere. Anytime. No exceptions. If I win, my freedom. I should have walked away. I didn't. He doesn't want my heart. That would be too simple. He wants to take me apart completely. And god help me, I'm starting to want that too. Stepbrother. Enemy. Obsession. Warning: This book is explicit. We’re talking filthy, enemies-who-hate-each-other-but-can’t-stop touching, wall-slamming, hair-pulling, name-screaming explicit. If you blush easy, this isn’t for you. If you don’t — buckle up, because Cain Russo has zero restraint and even less patience. 18+ only. You’ve been warned.