Novel & Cerita Forehead Touching

Staring down at my new slave who knelt in front of me, the right side of her cheek had a red print on it and I immediately knew someone touched her, the sight annoyed me. I don't want anyone touching her except me, ALONE! Marking every part of her skin with my hands alone, with her only remembering my touches and no one else. I'm the only one permitted to touch and torture her... ******* Evianna's already saddened life takes a dark turn when she is kidnapped by human traffickers and sold into slavery at an auction. She finds herself in the possession of a billionaire vampire. At first, Evianna is terrified of the cunning, hot, manipulative vampire named Darren after seeing his heartless and ruthless nature on their first meeting, but as she gets to know him, she begins to see another side of Darren. Despite their vastly different backgrounds, the maid and the master couldn't shrug away the continuous attraction they felt for each other. But, before they could taste the sweetness of romance, their happiness is short-lived when they find out about a shocking truth. As their relationship is put to the test, they will have to fight for their love and overcome the prejudices of their respective worlds. With danger lurking around every corner, will their love be enough to survive? Will their love conquer all, or will their differences and Evianna's true identity alongside Darren's inner demons tear them apart FOREVER? Read MR. DARREN'S FEISTY LITTLE PET to find out! A paranormal story of Obsession, Lust, Love, Secrets, a Hot protective Vampire, and a weak to strong female lead.

"We can't do this," I whispered, even as Jamie's fingers traced my jaw. "Tell me to stop," he commanded, his grey eyes darkening with desire. I should have. But instead: "I can't." His hand slid beneath my shirt. "This is wrong." "Then stop touching me." "I can't." His voice was raw. "Every night I think about you. About this." When his mouth finally claimed mine, it tasted like sin and salvation. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around him, and reality dissolved. "Right now, you're mine," he growled against my neck. "Even knowing what it costs?" I gasped. "Even then." What happened in that kitchen was unforgivable. Beautiful and terrible and absolutely devastating. But our secret didn't stay buried. When a mysterious text arrives—*"I saw what you did"*—followed by photos taken through my window, I realize someone was watching. Someone knows. And they're not just threatening to tell Aiden. They're playing a twisted game where we're all pieces on the board. As paranoia turns to obsession and obsession bleeds into violence, I face an impossible truth: the person I should fear most might be the one I thought I knew best. **Some secrets refuse to stay buried. Some desires demand everything. And some love stories end in blood.**

The day I was about to quit the game, countless floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Finally! The villainess is quitting!] [Now Janet Cole doesn’t have to worry about getting exposed for using her account to flirt online.] [The heroine is so smart–she always uses voice chat in-game. The villainess has no idea.] [Janet is living the dream–using her max-level account to juggle five top-tier players at once!] [At 2 PM today, she’s meeting her 'No.1 catch'–the cold, untouchable campus heartthrob Cedric Barnes!] [Assassin god tomorrow, rich scion the day after… her time management is insane!] The Janet they were talking about… was the fake heiress who had taken my place in my own family. She had been impersonating me–using my account to flirt with five elite players at once? Then more comments appeared… [Why hasn’t the villainess left yet? The male lead is already waiting.] [This is the first sweet date between the leads–can’t wait!] I turned to look at Janet, touching up her makeup in front of the mirror–and suddenly, it all clicked. The 'villainess' they were talking about… was me. So the real heiress–me–was nothing more than a disposable side character, a stepping stone for the fake one? A faint smile curled on my lips. If she could impersonate me online and play the field, then me showing up in person and stealing everything... wouldn't be too much, right?

Paxton captured her earlobe between his teeth. Rhiannon stilled as the nip sent a shower of familiar sensation through her veins. “Does he kiss like me?” he whispered in her ear. “Do we taste the same?” Fury and lust whipped through her body. “You are disgusting.” But most of all she was disgusted with herself. How could she respond to his touch so immediately while he said those hurtful words? “Did you think of me when he was deep inside you? Making you moan and scream like I did?” “Stop it!” He rested his forehead against hers. “I want to erase his from your memory,” Paxton confessed in a harsh whisper. “I want to take you to bed and make you forget you were ever his.” “I am not going to bed with you.” She wanted to... She wanted him so badly. But Rhiannon knew Paxton would kick her out in the morning. And her heart would stay broken this time. **** When Paxton Ridgway met Rhiannon King, he instantly knew she was a moneygrubber, a gold-digger whose mind was set on seducing Kieran, his little brother, and getting her hands on everything he owned. So, Paxton decides to beat her at her own game. To save his brother from a huge blow, he decides to seduce Rhiannon and get rid of her. Just one night of hot, passionate sex, and then kick her out without any remorse whatsoever. But fate has something else in store for Paxton. While on a hospital bed, Kieran asks his brother to protect Rhiannon, the woman Paxton thought would never see again, the woman he hated the most. This promise will change their future forever… since Rhiannon is hiding some explosive secrets, truths that could bring the new Ridgway heir to his knees.

They've called me a lot of things; Desperate, reckless and stupid. My name is Arthur Rowen, and three months ago, my world ended. My father was murdered—skull branded on his forehead like a sick calling card, Lionel family signature marking him as a traitor. My twin brother Asher vanished the same night without a trace, like he never existed. The police won't help because Lionel's own them. So I did what any desperate, reckless, stupid person would do: I got myself hired at The Pit of Lust, the Lionel family's underground sex club. The plan was simple: infiltrate, investigate, find Asher, get out. Then Andreas Lionel noticed me. Seven years older, dangerously beautiful, rumored to have appetites that would make a devil blush. The man who might have signed my father's death warrant. He wants me in his private suite, in his bed and under his control. Maybe I should run and while I'm at it, I should remember why I'm here but Andreas touches me like I'm something precious, not another pretty body in his collection. Fucks me like he's trying to ruin me for anyone else, while somehow making me feel whole for the first time in my life. The worst part? It's working and my legs are spreading with each passing night shamelessly. I'm falling for the man who destroyed my family. My brother is still missing and my father is still dead. And I'm still lying to the one person who's made me feel alive. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. No one warned me it would taste like whiskey and sin on Andreas Lionel's tongue Or that I'd crave the flavor like an additive.

I stood between both of them masking my son from his gorgeous daddy but my stubborn son cocked his head and gave his dad a very beautiful sunburnt smile. I couldn't help but chuckle my baby is too cute. "Mommy, is this Daddy?" Oh my God! I looked behind us at Jale who was only a few steps away from us. I bet he clearly heard what my son had just asked me. The was he was looking at me with curiousty, I knew he wanted an answer to that question too. Who am I even kidding from his viking gold hair, brown chocolate eyes, his fair skin, to proud attitude. Everything he was was the same thing my boy was. Chase was a true young version of his daddy but I would never let him know that. I crouched down in front of my angel and kissed his forehead before answering his question. My eyes shot up at Jale again who pretended like he was looking at something on his phone yet his phone's screen was blank then. After making sure he had his attention to us, I cupped my baby's cheeks and made him look into my eyes. "No honey, this man is not your daddy but uncle. He is uncle Jale." I could see Jale's face fall from the sides of my face. Suck a jerk! What did he expect that I was going to say Chase is his son. That is something I would never do in my life. I would never let Jale into my son's life. I will never let him know he is my baby's daddy because he doesn't deserve my little boy at all. He doesn't deserve us after all the horrible things he did to me five years ago.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

“Kiss me.” The words tumbled out and Lex stepped back instantly. He turned away from her and Isis felt her pride being butchered. “Isis, I-” His voice travelled through the room. It was laced with uncertainty. His back was still to her. "I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I-uh. Good bye, Mr. Greyson.” Isis replied as she slid off the desk. She needed to leave, before her embarrassment killed her. Isis grabbed her bag and stalked off towards the door. A grip like iron encased her shoulder and she was spun around to face Mr. Greyson, he pushed her against the door and dropped her bag onto the floor. He pinned her body with his, a hand around her waist bringing her body against his and his other hand cupping her face. He ran his thumb along her lower lips and took satisfaction in her shuddering. He drew her hands up and anchored them above her head, pinning them to the door. His mouth slowly covered hers and moved teasingly. Isis gasped at the skillful movement of his lips against hers. He possessed her fully, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted her, devoured her and nothing was sweeter for Lex. He fought to control his natural instincts firing to life and focused on giving her this but he was certain he would gain the most pain from it. He knew he would never forget this kiss, never meet its equal. He pulled away from her, their breath labored. He rested his forehead against hers and committed the moment to memory. He leaned off her, let her hands drop to her sides, he handed Isis her bag. "Good bye, Ms. Davenport.” He replied with some pain as he turned the door knob and allowed her to leave.

When Elowen learned that she had been switched at birth, that her life as a princess was nothing more than a mistake, she quietly accepted her fate. She accepted being treated as an error. Accepted being hurt so deeply that even crying had to be done in secret. She believed she would fade away like this — silently, unnoticed, forgotten. Until one day — when despair pushed her to the edge — she felt a faint chill, as if someone were standing behind her, protecting her without a word. From that moment on, Elowen knew she was no longer alone. — Adrian survived a horrific car accident. His body lay motionless in a hospital bed, while his soul became bound to a wounded girl he had never known. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t shield her from harm. Yet when she was starved, warm food appeared in her drawer. When she was bullied, her tormentors met with inexplicable accidents. When she curled up crying in the dead of night, an invisible hand gently rested on her forehead—so tender it hurt. Adrian was there. Quieter than any living person. He witnessed every wound, remembered every tear, every trembling breath she tried to suppress. Affection grew in silence—slowly, carefully—as if one careless step closer would cause the girl to shatter. One was alive, yet denied a life. One was dead, yet still learning how to protect someone. Some forms of protection need no light. Some kinds of love cannot be touched. — Then one day, Elowen spoke seriously to her “Ms. Ghost”: Elowen: “Ms. Ghost, if you’re lonely…” “Maybe you could bond with a male ghost.” “I’d give you my blessing.” Adrian: … Then the “Ms. Ghost” coldly placed a hand on her forehead. Adrian: “Call me Mr. Ghost.”

Aria was once a woman full of dreams. She didn’t know she was married to a nightmare. She wed Elliot—the struggling Alpha of the Crimson Claw, with no vows under the Moon Goddess or celebration. She brought a generous dowry and transformed their pack into the third-strongest in the Federation. But power breeds greed. And love… it was never truly hers. Discarded, framed, and betrayed by the very man she uplifted, Aria walks away from it all. She’s taking control, rewriting her story with every breath. This time, Aria isn’t just surviving. She’s reclaiming her destiny. Excerpt: “From the first moment I saw you, something inside me reacted," Mason muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “But you already have a mate—Elliot. That should’ve been the end of it." He stepped forward again. “I don’t know what’s happening to me… or to my wolf. But being near you—it feels like you’re my mate… even if you're not.” His voice cracked slightly. “It just keeps getting stronger every damn day. It’s driving me insane, Aria.” “Mason—” Aria whispered, unsure if she would stop him or beg to keep going. “Your scent is like a drug… your touch, it short-circuits everything. Logic. Control. My own damn rules,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Aria. But I can’t hold it back anymore. If you run, I’ll let you—but make no mistake, I will chase you. Because right now… I have to do this or I'll go crazy!” “I’m not running.” Mason froze, stunned by her answer. “Do you want this? Do you want me?” he asked. “You don’t have to ask for permission…” she whispered. “I want you… all of you.”