Forehead Touching Novels & Stories

⚠️ WARNING: 18+ This story contains mature themes, strong language, emotional manipulation, possessive relationships, and explicit sexual content. Intended for adult readers only. Read at your own risk. When 19 year old Elias moves deeper into his wealthy stepfather Vane’s world, he’s already hiding a shameful obsession, years of stealing Vane’s clothes, breathing in his scent, and touching himself while whispering “Daddy.” His cruel stepbrother Cyrus catches him in the act, snaps proof, and blackmails Elias into becoming his secret, unwilling lover. Broken and desperate, Elias drugs Vane one night and offers himself completely. To his shock, Vane doesn’t stop him—he takes him hard, raw, and possessive, awakening a hunger in both of them that can’t be caged. That first forbidden night is explosive: Vane pins Elias to the rug, fills him deep, growls “Mine” against his throat as Elias comes undone, crying out “Daddy” while Vane thrusts until they both shatter. Now Elias is trapped between two dangerous men, one who degrades him with threats, and one who owns him with terrifying tenderness. He should hate it. Instead, he’s starting to crave being claimed by both.

They didn't want to marry each other, but when luck plays the game, no one can win against it. °°° "But I don't love you?!" "I don't love you either!" °°° Zahir and Hoor had to marry each other against their will, even if it was a drama of one year. One didn't want to spoil his life while the other didn't want to disappoint her father. It was nothing but a contract marriage. ***** Zahir Mathews is a successful businessman who is also a perfect person in the eyes of the world. In spite of touching the height of the sky, there was no pride in that person. He had respect for the elders, the values ​​taught by his father shone in him. Nothing was difficult for him except getting married and living a happy life with a creature named ‘Wife’. Although no one except his family knows about his weakness, it is necessary to break the illusion. Hoor Mizrahi is a hardworking girl who earns some money by doing petty jobs along with her studies.Whatever money she earns, she first uses it for her father who is a sick person, before herself. When another problem comes in such a difficult life, then she is left with no other option but to get into it. The problem was nothing but marrying her father's friend's arrogant son.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

During college, Cindy Crammer brought over two sets of breakfasts every day. One was for me, and the other was for my roommate and best friend, Mark Jefferson. The breakfast she brought me never changed. It was always just sandwiches and oatmeal. Mark's breakfast, on the other hand, always had a perfect balance of meat and vegetables, and she never repeated the same meal twice. Even for my birthday, the gifts she prepared came in two sets. My birthday gift was always four simple greeting cards. Mark got concert tickets, a handmade rhinestone photo mosaic, a custom-made suit, and a pinky ring. When it came time for our graduation trip, the three of us arrived at the train station together. Mark and Cindy scanned their documents and passed through without any trouble, but I was stopped outside. Cindy slapped her forehead in frustration and smiled at me apologetically. "I only remembered to book Mark's ticket. I forgot yours. "We've already made it through. I don't want to waste the money. I'll take you on a trip for two next time." Mark patted his chest and made a promise to me. "Don't worry, Jason. I'll take good care of Cindy for you." I watched their backs as they walked away side by side, laughing and chatting. I let out a bitter chuckle. I didn't want to keep lying to myself anymore. I turned around and bought a ticket home. "Dad, you said I had to get married right after graduation. I agree! "Remember the referral I made for an intern named Cindy? Cancel it!"

My Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart was a witch. She told everyone my blood carried a Cursed Bloodline — that bonding with Damon would kill him. On our anniversary, she drew a Curse Circle outside my door, claiming it would suppress my dark energy. At our Mating Ceremony, she disguised herself as a server and swapped our Bonding Tokens for a Curse Rune. Every single time, she'd kneel in front of Damon and cry: "I'm only trying to protect you from the curse. Everything I do is for you!" And every single time, Damon went soft. He said she just cared about him too much. Until the eve of our Marking Ceremony, when she drugged me, put on my Luna ceremonial gown, and crawled into Damon's bed. I woke up just in time and reported her to the Pack Enforcers. Damon went straight to the Enforcers' station to get her out, then turned to me and said coldly: "Serena was just trying to protect me. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?" Until I bled out during labor and fell into a coma, and she stood over me with tears in her eyes, telling Damon: "Choose me and let her go — this is the will of the Moon Goddess.." I left this world together with the child still in my belly. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day of the Mating Ceremony, and she was about to slip the Hex Rune into our token box. This time, I didn't hold back. I ripped open the box in front of everyone and slapped the rune onto her forehead: "I think the one who needs cleansing is you!"

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.

"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.

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.

“Why did you do it?” He demanded in a low voice, a warning, while closing in on me. The defiant look on my face crumbled a little as I hastily began to backtrack, it wasn’t long before I felt the edge of the bed behind my knees. “Fucking answer me, Kiara!” He roared, cold breath fanning the tip of my nose as he spoke. I gulped in fear, as what I had done just began to fully sink in. “I- I don’t…” A firm push against my forehead tipped me over and I fell on my back like a doll, panting wide eyed at a very furious Xavier. I scrambled backwards, or attempted to– but Xavier’s large hands clamped on my ankles, sharply jerking me downwards until my legs dangled at his sides. “Not only did you leave the house on your own– you crashed my car, set it on fire and then you went to a freaking, dangerous club…” He moved his hands off my ankles and circled my hips, grips tightening instantly, threateningly. “…and let worthless men touch what’s mine. Who told you that was acceptable?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes even though my heart was racing. “Who said I was yours? Since when did you make me yours?” “Since right now.” ————— Forced to marry Xavier Romano in order to spare her brother’s life, Kiara Francesco– sassy, rebellious and drop dead gorgeous, was determined to be no fragile and obedient wife; which surprised, spurred Xavier on and made his sinful hunger for her intensify with each passing second. Life as a very powerful mafia lord’s wife was no child’s play, seeing as it comes with a whole lot of danger. And Kiara was ready for the dangerous ride.