Give Me A Sign

I’m done with men! Not because I hate them, but because everyone I meet, and is just fine enough to pique my interest, I compare to him. And it ends right there and then. The ridiculous thing is that my love interest isn’t real. He is a figure that hunts my nights and brings pleasure into the few seconds that I’m captured by my sleep paralysis. I know that, and I am totally okay with it. Just as I start a new job, and my life seems to take a better turn, determined to forget the man from the shadows, I find my forbidden pleasure standing right in front of me. Suddenly my dream man wears a tailored suit and frowns at me. He is my boss. And he is very real.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband cancels a 100-million-dollar business deal to take me on vacation. While we're together, breathless and intimate, I'm about to tell him the news that our IVF finally succeeded when he answers his phone. His Valerian flows, smooth and effortless. "Of course I'm coming to tomorrow's prenatal checkup. That's our baby." "But won't your barren wife get jealous?" The woman on the other end speaks with a sultry lilt. Ethan Shaw traces his tongue along my neck as he responds, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her." My mind went blank, like lightning striking too close. I stuff the pregnancy report back into my pocket without thinking. "Honey, who's that?" Ethan pulls me close by the waist. "Just a business partner in Valeria. Time difference, that's why they're calling now..." I can't process the rest of his words. Ethan doesn't know I understand Valerian. Since he's clearly not excited about our child, I'll make sure this baby grows up without him as a father.

She was always the shadow. He was always chasing the light. Lavinia Hartwell had learned early that love was rarely for girls like her. She was the quiet one, the overlooked one—always second to her luminous best friend, Verity Langford. Even Henry Wynthorne, the boy whose compassion had unexpectedly caught her heart in high school, only had eyes for Verity. But years change people. Henry’s dreams of studying abroad collapsed with his father’s death. Verity left. Success became his only compass, and alcohol his only escape. And somehow, in the wreckage, there was Lavinia—never demanding, never judging, quietly holding him together in ways he never noticed… until she was gone. When an arranged engagement threatened to give her to him, Henry assumed she was being forced into it and set her free. Lavinia smiled, thanked him—and walked away, taking with her the steady presence he had taken for granted. Only then did Henry begin to notice the ache. The way her absence unsettled him. The way another man’s hand on her waist ignited a heat that was not anger, but something darker, sharper, and dangerously possessive. A single night blurred the lines forever—her lips on his, soft at first, then desperate, as though she’d loved him all her life. Desire flared, undeniable. But in the morning, she was gone again. Now, with Verity back and the past colliding with the present, Henry must face the truth: he no longer loves the woman he once chased. But has he realized too late who truly held his heart all along? Slow-burn, sensual, and laced with aching restraint, this is a story of unspoken devotion, of a man’s reluctant fall, and of the quiet girl who was never anyone’s first choice—until she became the only choice.

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

To save money for a house, I had been living a frugal life with my boyfriend, Desmond Wood. When Desmond received a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus, he bought me a branded bag. I was delighted, but I felt that he did not need to spend so much on me. Hence, I brought the receipt and the bag to the shop for a refund. The shopkeeper told me that my bag was fake. However, the receipt was real.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

A moan of pure pleasure escapes my mouth and he nips my lower lip, sending shock waves through my body. Pushing me onto my back, he continues to devour me - nipping at the skin along my neck and running his hand over the fabric covering my breasts. Heat builds up between my legs as I feel him harden against my thigh. I bite my lower lip and instinctively raise my hips against him. He moans and takes my face in his large hands. "Look at me. If we continue any further I'm not going to be able to stop myself. If we mate I will mark you and you'll be mine forever." He says slowly, the words penetrating the fog clouding my brain. "Is this what you want?" My body screams yes, but my mind forces me to be rational. "Not yet, eventually but not yet." I admit, running my hands through his hair. He sighs, disappointment evident before he rests his head on my chest. "I don't want you to get hurt by our matebond." I eventually say. "What do you mean?" He asks. I lift his hand and place it on my thigh, letting his fingers brush against the scars. "Kane told me that when you're mated, you feel everything your mate feels… I don't want that. I don't want you to feel if I die. " *** Natalia has spent the last ten years living in isolation, scarred from witnessing the massacre of her parents, she believes that the mate bond and love are a weakness she never wants to experience - even when confronted with her very own mate. Unfortunately for her, Liam, Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack has no plan on letting her go. Will succumbing to him save her, or will it be her ultimate doom?

“Spread that tight little pussy for me. It’s mine tonight,” Callum growled in my ear as he slammed into me. “Yes. Claim me. Use me. Don’t stop.” A strangled moan ripped out of me. He drove so hard I could barely breathe. My nails ripped at his shoulders, desperate to hold on, when another hand yanked my hair back. My mouth fell open, and a second cock rammed into my throat. I gagged as spit streamed down my chin. A third voice cracked across me with a sharp smack to my ass, the sting making me cry out. “Good slut. Take it all. You’re nothing but our toy tonight.” Tears blurred my vision and my throat burned raw. My pussy clenched tight around Callum with every brutal drive. I gasped out the only words I had left. “Yes… Daddies. I’ll take everything." •••••••••••••••••• CLAIM ME, DADDIES isn’t here to tease. It drags you to your knees, rips you open, and leaves you begging for more. Inside, you’ll find hotel-room threesomes that leave no hole untouched, office domination that strips away every ounce of control, step-daddy cravings that cross every line, brutal gangbangs that push you past your limits, lesbian hookups that turn sweet into savage, gay encounters that shatter taboos, and roleplay so filthy it will stain your imagination. Every story is built to ruin you in the best way. This collection is for adults only, 18 and over. It contains explicit sex,raw language, taboo roleplay, and extreme scenarios. All stories are pure fiction and meant for erotic entertainment. If you’re under 18, stop reading now.

I always thought my boyfriend came from a poor family. One day, I saw him drink a bottle of wine worth 100,000 while tipping the waiter over 1,000. The watch he gave away without a second thought was worth millions. Yet, his gift for my birthday was a dirt-cheap trinket. He claimed it was a test to make sure I was not a gold digger. Later on, I proved that I was not a gold digger. That was when he begged and pleaded for me to accept his extravagant gift.

When my boyfriend came to my family home to ask for my hand in marriage, my sister-in-law, who was usually cold and aloof, became a completely different person. She flung her arm around me warmly and asked, “Cassie, who’s your favorite? This boyfriend or one of the dozen or so men that you’ve brought home before?” As I denied her accusation and interrupted her, she cheekily batted her eyelashes at my boyfriend and cooed, “Oh, yes, yes. Cassie has never brought another man home. You’re the lucky first!” In the midst of dinner, she deliberately took her own soiled underwear out of the bathroom, pinched her nose, and waved it around as she screeched, “Oh my goodness, Cassie! I know you don’t really care about hygiene, but we have guests today! How can you have no shame? It smells so bad!”