Goth Lingerie

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.

On my wedding anniversary, I came home to rose petals and champagne. Instead of romance, I found my husband in bed with my sister—wearing the couture gown I designed for her runway debut. He called my designs "boring" and revealed the fashion house I built was actually funded by her secret investor money. The child we adopted? Her biological son with my husband, who she abandoned to chase Paris Fashion Week. I walked out in nothing but the lingerie prototype from my latest collection. In a snowstorm. Straight into an exclusive fashion week after-party where I met him: a mysterious man who mistook me for a model and offered me a drink that tasted like freedom. One night later, I owed him $100,000. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. And when I showed up to my job interview at the biggest fashion conglomerate in the industry, ready to prove my designs could save their failing luxury brand, the CEO sitting across from me was the same man from that night. He remembers me. He wants his money back. And he's offering me $5 million if I can take his brand from fashion week laughingstock to top five in three major shows. I took the bet. I just didn't tell him about the baby. Or that my ex-husband's textile company supplies the fabric for every major fashion house—including his.

On the day the real heiress was welcomed home, my fiancé was already sleeping with her. Staring at the blue pills and torn lingerie scattered on the floor, I told them to get the hell out of my wedding house. But a second later, my father stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. "Who are you to tell her to leave? Bella is our real daughter!" "Elena, you’re just an outsider we took in by mistake. You’re the one who needs to get out." Marco wrapped his arm around Bella, his tone impatient: "Elena, I’m the heir to the Moretti family. I can’t marry a mongrel with impure blood like you. If you don't want to bring shame to the family, be smart and go tell the Don the wedding is off tomorrow." Bella gave a coy smile and tossed a stack of cash at my feet like she was giving alms: "Sister, I know Marco and I hurt you, but we’re true love." "Take this as your severance package. Take the money and get lost." I suppressed my rage and stepped forward to throw these disgusting people out, but Marco shoved me violently. "I told you, I’m not marrying you! Keep pestering us, and don't blame me for getting rough!" My stomach slammed against the table. I laughed out of pure anger. Who said I wanted to marry him? The one I’m going to marry is his father—the Don of the Moretti family, Lorenzo.

"Sign here." With two cold words and a flick of a fountain pen, Aeron King ended our three-year marriage. No explanation. No regret. Just the chilling silence of a man who thought I was a pawn he could finally discard. He thinks he’s free of the obedient wife his family forced him to marry. He’s wrong. Thanks to a hidden clause in our pre-nup, the divorce won't be final for ninety days. Ninety days to live in his mansion, breathe his air, and remind him exactly what he’s losing. I’m done with the modest dresses and the silent smiles. I’m trading my compliance for silk lingerie and a lethal new ambition. I’m going to make him crave me. I’m going to make him jealous. I’m going to make him realize that the boring woman he rejected is the only woman he’ll ever truly want. But the game has changed. My father didn't just sell me to the Kings; he’s now using me as a weapon to dismantle their empire. Caught between a husband who suspects me of being a spy and a father who threatens to ruin me, I have to play a dangerous double game. Aeron King thinks he’s the master of the boardroom, but for the next three months, this house is my kingdom. By Day 90, I won't be the one begging for mercy. He will.

WARNING: This book is unapologetically slutty. ••• “You can fuck me, but only with my mask on.” My boss doesn't know I'm his little wh*re sunshine. ••• Elissa can't remember the last time she got laid by a man. She is too caught up in meeting ends meet, and healing from the trauma caused by her stepmother. But her life changes when she goes to a masquerade ball and her eyes land on the gorgeous mysterious stranger, succumbing to his charm. They have a wild night together, their heated, lustful encounter leaving her breathless and wanting more. However, when dawn breaks, she flees the hotel room, and he is left with only her lingerie and an unrelenting obsession to find her. But when Elissa returns to her normal life, fate brings them together again in a shocking twist: Elissa’s new billionaire boss, Thane, is the mysterious man who has rocked her world. Now, he’s determined to claim her as his own, one sensual seduction at a time. But there’s a catch— he’s unaware that his secretary is the same woman he’s been p*unding at midnight, and Elissa must hide her arousal during work hours, waiting for the clock to strike 3 a.m. when she can transform into masked Cinderella once more. But for how long will it take for her identity to be revealed?

For five years, I was Carlos’s dirty little secret. In the light of day, I was his executive assistant, handling his legitimate businesses while he treated me with cold, professional detachment. In the shadows, I was the woman he claimed to love more than life itself, the one who warmed his bed while he whispered promises against my skin. That was until I found out I was pregnant. I was ready to tell him, to finally ask for a life in the light. But then, I discovered Carlos had purchased a secluded estate in the suburbs—a fortress meant for a wife. I followed him there, heart in my throat, only to watch through the window as his hand slid beneath a woman’s silk lingerie, his eyes burning with a raw desire I thought belonged only to me. "Sophie," he groaned, his voice rough with emotion. "I stayed unmarried all these years for one reason. I was waiting for you to come back to the States. Marry me." The sounds of their pleasure echoed from the room. The shock was a physical blow; my body revolted, and the stress induced a miscarriage right there in the cold. When I woke up in the hospital, empty and broken, I made a call I had been avoiding for years. I accepted the arranged marriage my family had set up for me—a political alliance with a rival syndicate. The next morning,I would vanish from Carlos’s life forever.

Their kiss left them craving more, their bodies aflame with desire. Brynn willingly granted Killian entry to her mouth, his yearning evident in a throaty moan. His scorching lips ignited a passionate fire within her, and his hand gently traced along her curves, coaxing seductive sounds from Brynn's lips. While they hadn't ventured beyond their previous encounter in the study, Brynn's readiness was palpable. She longed for him so ardently that the mere thought of having him made her quiver. Killian was enraptured by her taste, his desire overwhelming. He broke the kiss momentarily to gaze into Brynn's eyes, which smoldered with a hunger that mirrored his own. They both ached for each other. As his fingers deftly undid the buttons of her attire, a shiver of anticipation coursed through Brynn's skin. When Killian beheld her exposed breast, he couldn't resist a hiss of desire, sending her into blissful sighs as her garments fell away. Her gown pooled at her feet, leaving Brynn in a sensuous black two-piece lingerie set that left Killian spellbound. The way her voluptuous curves accentuated her body left him in a state of eager anticipation, his excitement evident. "Damn," he muttered, reminiscing about their previous passionate encounters. "You're incredibly seductive," he declared, his voice husky with desire, as he guided her gently to the bed. "And you're all mine."

“We signed the divorce papers six months ago. Tonight I’m wearing the lingerie he bought me on our honeymoon…and I’m not leaving his penthouse until he remembers why he put a ring on it.” Lila Grant never begged,not when Ethan built his empire on her late-night sketches. Not when he shut her out with silence colder than the marble floors of their Manhattan tomb. Not when she scrawled her signature on the line that severed them. But six months of celibate nights and whiskey-soaked memories have carved her hollow. One look at him across a crowded gala with his new fiancée draped on his arm like a cheap trophy and something primal snaps inside her. She kisses him in front of the cameras. Claims the mouth that once whispered mine against her throat and then she issues the ultimatum that detonates their carefully buried war: Thirty nights. His Hamptons fortress. One bed. No safe words. No surrender. If either of them says the word divorce, the other walks away with everything,money, pride, the last shred of sanity. Ethan never lost until Lila walks back in wearing red silk and the scent of ruin. What begins as a vicious game of who-blinks-first spirals into something darker. Jealousy that tastes like blood on the tongue. Sex that leaves bruises shaped like vows. He wants to punish her for leaving. She wants to burn the memory of his touch out of her skin. Both get exactly what they came for,until the one thing neither planned explodes between them: She’s pregnant. And the man who swore he’d never beg is on his knees

On Christmas Day, I put on a reindeer-themed lingerie set, ready to spend an unforgettable night with my CEO boyfriend. Noah Levine eagerly unbuttons my top, kissing my body with feverish intensity. Just then, his phone rings. He answers impatiently. "What is it?" A sweet voice comes through from the other end, speaking in Farylian. "Noah, what time are you coming tonight? I have a Christmas present for you." Hearing those words, my eyes fly wide open. That woman is my younger sister, Heidi Miller. Noah's expression turns serious, like he's handling a work call. He responds in Farylian. "What present?" The voice on the other end laughs softly. "The present is me, wrapped head to toe in red ribbon. Come over and help me unwrap it. I can't wait anymore." That night, Noah doesn't touch me. He helps me dress, kissing my cheek with reluctance. "Work call. Something urgent at the company I need to handle. We'll pick this up another time. "Remember to wear this outfit next time, though. It's very enticing." His lie sounds calm and natural. He clearly assumes I don't understand, but I know Farylian. I hear everything crystal clear. I pretend to nod calmly. After he leaves, I accept the company's overseas assignment. In three days, I'll vanish completely from his world.

When my mother-in-law gets hospitalized due to cancer, I'm about to pay the hospital bills when I find out that my wife, Lilibeth Saunders, has used our savings to pay off a male escort's debt. That's when I finally explode in rage. "Mom has gotten hospitalized because of her illness, and yet you use our money to pay off the debt of a useless piece of trash who relies on his manhood for survival! You really are an evil bitch, Lilibeth Saunders!" As Lilibeth grips the lingerie, she remains stone-faced. "How am I the one at fault here? I'm just trying to give my future child a father who still has a future with me! You can always earn money to treat your own mother's illness! Meanwhile, Carl can't do the same thing about his debt! If he doesn't pay off his debt, his life will be ruined! "You only have yourself to blame, Josiah! After all, you're a good-for-nothing impotent man!" The entire room falls eerily silent. My friend, who's there to help patch things up between us, looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. All the criticism surrounding me flashes through my mind at that moment. That's when I realize that it's time for me to end things with Lilibeth once and for all. What she doesn't know is that she's the infertile one based on the doctor's diagnosis. Also, her mother is the one being hospitalized, not mine.