Novel & Cerita Futa Feet

Rainy nights in Sicelia were always thick with the stench of rust and gunpowder. Rumors had circulated that the newly appointed Don of the Romano family, one of the most powerful mafia clans, had been badly disfigured in a fire. His temper had grown brutal, and three fiancées had already been driven to terror. When the news reached the Deluca family estate, my so-called sister had collapsed in tears and begged me to take her place and honor the engagement. I had watched her act in silence before kicking her to the floor. I had said calmly, "When I was brought back into this family, you were afraid of losing your status. You rushed to secure the marriage alliance to protect your position. Now that your fiancé is disfigured and you can't bear to face that scarred monster, you want to shove me into the flames instead?" At that moment, my childhood sweetheart had burst through the door. He bent down and helped my fake sister to her feet, his concern plain to see. "Elena, don't be so ungrateful," he snapped. "This marriage was yours from the beginning. Now it's simply returning to its rightful owner. Tomorrow, I'll be holding a grand wedding with Rosa. As for you, you can obediently go and serve that monster." My parents had stormed in as well, pointing at me and cursing without restraint. As I looked at the selfish faces before me, I drew a slow breath. Resolve hardened in my eyes. "Fine," I had said quietly. "Then all of you can come down to hell with me."

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

He was supposed to be a stranger. A bruised, scarred, filthy-mouthed stranger who pinned me against a bathroom wall and made me forget the boy who broke my heart 20 minutes earlier. I walked away first without his name or number, and I didn't look back. Then I found out my mom was engaged. To his dad. Rhys Maddox. Number seventeen. 6'3" of tattoos, bruised knuckles, and the kind of jaw that makes good girls do stupid things. The most dangerous player to ever step on our ice. My one-night stand. My new stepbrother. He doesn't follow rules - he breaks them. On the ice. In my bed. Against every surface in our parents' house while they eat twenty feet away. He calls me "sis" just to watch me squirm. He watches me like he already owns me. And the worst part? He does. Publicly, we're fake dating - a deal to keep my ex-bestfriend away. Privately, we're a stepbrother and stepsister who can't keep our clothes on the second we're alone. It's our biggest secret. Now the boy who I once considered my best friend suddenly wants me back. And the stepbrother who wasn't supposed to mean anything won't let me go. One wants to protect me. One wants to destroy me. And I can't tell which is which anymore. --- For readers 18+ who like their men possessive, their romances FORBIDDEN, and their chapters dripping with filthy, unapologetic spice.

It wasn't just about what this lady was wearing. It was her. Something to do with the way she moved. Like she was one with the music and with the stage. The music pounded in a hypnotic rhythm that was unashamedly sexual, and she moved and danced in time to the beat, her movements graceful and seductive. So much confidence and balance. Balance that should have been nearly possible with the length of the heel shoes that she was putting on, but she made it look so natural... So easy, like she'd been born with high, slender spikes attached to her feet. There was something captivating... Almost hypnotizing about this woman, and Dimitri found him self leaning closer to watch. To take in every sight of this beautiful goddess. She was a vision of feminine perfection, every man's fantasy and Dimitri felt sharp claws of lust drag through his loins. On the opposite side, Dimitri saw a man half rise to his feet, a look of longing in his eyes. He didn't blame the man. What man wouldn't be captivated by such a beauty? -------------------- Nervous about assuming control of her father's company, Kelly Darcy relocates to San Francisco. In an attempt to do something she loved one more time before her life changed completely, she volunteers to replace a dancer in her friend, Elizabeth's fashion show and ends up in the arms of Dimitri Collins. It was supposed to be a one night stand. She didn't have to see him again. But Kelly realizes how wrong she was when Dimitri walks into her father's office... And now she has to fight to keep her father's company, while figuring out what she truly feels for Dimitri.

BOOK 2----THE SEX DOCTOR (HIS SUBMISSIVE) (Prologue) I was used by the person I loved so much, I was murdered by my ex boyfriend that I never wanted back, I was raped and humiliated by two men...whom never got punished for their crimes. Everything I wanted in life never came true and do you know why? Because I can never have everything in life but nobody says that I can't have my revenge on people who used me. I am Ann hamburger, a self independent woman and not sex addict, and I am back to get my revenge on everyone who used me. Get ready for a revenge love story of miss Ann hamburger, with a lots of steamy scene.... [Excerpt] “Get her, she has taken my money… she’ll have to give me more than she has taken” Alex said to his guard coldly. No one messes with him and if this harlot had dared to… she has to bear the consequences. When Alex Hudson decides to have a one night stand with a stripper, he ends up getting robbed but he won’t let it slide. He does everything in his power to get her and when she is brought at his feet, he gives her the worst punishment one could ever get. “You love one night stands don’t you?” He asked as he narrowed his hands to her chest. “Well then, you’re going to have them with me, every single day with me as your dominant and you…. As my submissive… “ He told her. She was now trapped with him and now, she is his submissive and him… her dominant.

My family and I have gone on a road trip. But when I help an old lady to her feet after she suffered from a fall in the rest stop, my wife, Cindy Ford, who has been chatting animatedly with me the whole time, scowls at me instantly. "I never knew you were this underhanded! Just the sight of you disgusts me! Get lost!" Even my eight-year-old daughter, Tessa Hayes, glares at me disdainfully. "I don't want someone like you as my dad!" With an ashen face, Cindy whisks Tessa into the car immediately. Just like that, they abandon me at the rest stop. What I don't expect is that my in-laws actually call me on the phone and insult me as a walking jinx after finding out about the incident. Now, they want Cindy to get a divorce with me as soon as possible. Furious, I return to my childhood home and dump all of my emotional load on my parents. But my parents, who have always doted on me, don't console me at all after they find out I've helped an old lady up. Instead, their expressions go stormy. "How on earth did we end up having a son like you? You should just die already!" My parents kick me out of the house right away. Dazed and disoriented, I end up getting struck and killed by an incoming truck. Even as I breathe my last, I never understand what I've done wrong. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I help the old lady up to her feet.

I die in the corridor of the private hospital my husband established after being forced to give my heart to his true love. Before my death, my six-year-old son tearfully begs him to save me thrice. The first time, he holds my husband's hand and says I'm coughing up blood. My husband sneers. "Looks like she's learned tricks—she knows how to teach children to lie now." Then, he has his bodyguards kick my son out of the ward. The second time, my son grabs his sleeve and says I'm in so much pain that I'm incoherent. My husband frowns. "It's just a heart transplant. The doctor said she won't die." The bodyguards step forward and drag my son out of the ward again. The third time, my son grovels at my husband's feet and grabs his pants, sobbing and saying that I'm already unconscious. My husband is infuriated. He grabs my son by the neck and throws him out of the ward. "I told you Nadia won't die! I'll throw her and you out of the hospital if you come here and disturb Ruby's rest again!" My son gives his most previous item—a guardian angel pendant—to a nurse to save me. The nurse accepts it and arranges for me to be admitted to the last available ward in the hospital. However, Ruby Sharpe has someone stand before it with her pet dog. She says, "Sorry, kiddo. Your father's worried I'll be bored without my dog, so this ward has been set aside for my dog to stay in."

His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, placing a finger on my mouth. “Uh-uh, what did I say you call me when we're alone?” My body tingled with heat. “Daddy?” “Urgh…” A guttural groan tore from his chest. “Yes, baby?” My mind spaced for a second and Andre took advantage of that, tucking his hands under my legs and carrying me bridal style. “Andre, what are you doing?!” I shriek, dangling my legs in the air. “Finishing what we started, baby.” he chuckled, heading straight for the front door. I shook my head in bemusement. His daughter just found out about us and his brain goes straight to sex? Men… I wasn't any better though as I just waited for him to cross that threshold and pounce on me, instead of dissuading him. He strode over to the loveseat couch, sliding me down his body before pushing me back to the couch. Propped up on my elbows, I looked up at him with hooded eyes, only for the the door knob to flip. My eyes widened and instantly, I jerked up to my feet, coming to stand behind Andre. I had no idea who it was as Claire would have just barged right in. The door opening seemed to take several minutes but in reality, it was only seconds. It swung inwards to reveal Leila, the last person I was expecting to see. She took one look at us and wasn't in the least bit surprised. “So it's true?” Those cold grey eyes moved over to me. “You're the whore that's fucking my husband?”

The Torres family and the Nostra had been enemies for generations. When I was ten, I was betrayed by my own blood and left for dead. Leon Torres was the one who saved me. So I buried my identity as the daughter of a powerful Cosa Nostra family and stayed by his side, helping him from the shadows. For years, I used my father's underground network to eliminate every obstacle in Leon's path, helping the overlooked second son of the Torres Don rise step by step until he claimed the throne for himself. Then he brought home a woman named Anrina. His childhood sweetheart. Anrina claimed she was the one who had helped Leon seize power all these years. And Leon believed her. From that moment on, every ounce of his protection, trust, and affection belonged to her. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like a filthy stray." "Go clean yourself up. Don't scare my sweetheart." Leon stripped me of my position as Capo and forced me to become Anrina's servant. When pizza fresh from the oven burned her mouth, he made me kneel at her feet and cool every bite before feeding her myself. When a rose thorn pricked her finger, he blamed me for failing to protect her and ordered ten lashes in the punishment room. I endured it all. Because years ago, after saving my life, Leon once said: "You want to repay me? "Then repay me a hundred times." I lowered my gaze to the child growing quietly inside me. "Ninety-nine," I whispered. "Just one more, little one... then Mommy will take you home."

Annette Marechal at twenty-four, has finally understood the difference between: being loved and being used. Upon meeting Antoine Bourdeu, she believed that her life was finally going to be complete. She married him, two months after meeting him, madly in love with his thoughtful personality and his way of treating and caring for her. She never cared about the ten-year-old difference, nor the comments of Antoine's family towards her. Until he discovered the true root of his interest: his father's company about to fail. Knowing that she was used to reach her father, she confronted Antoine and he assured her that he had loved her, not as she would have liked, but as a means to an end. Full of pain and helplessness, suffering the betrayal of the supposed love of her life, Annette decided to leave never to return, Antoine Bourdeu, eldest son of the Bourdeu family, one of the wealthiest in France, did not believe in love, but in the commitment and stability that being married gave him in business. The beautiful Annette had seduced him, and he had fallen at her feet, driven mad by her emerald green eyes and mischievous gaze. She wanted to know the world and he promised to fulfill it. Until he realized how interested and manipulative his sweet Annette was. She left right after the ceremony, when he wanted to make her his body and soul. He disappeared from the map, taking with him more than his male pride. At least that's what he thought, because now, more cynical and stronger than ever, Antoine would return to take back what was his. No one denied Antoine Bourdeu