Growl Stomach Novelas e Histórias

"You came for revenge. Too bad you're about to get fucked instead," he says darkly against my lips, sending waves of lust blazing through my body at the sound of his husky voice. I shudder but stifle a moan as his hand smoothly glides down my stomach to cup my drenched core. My knees nearly buckle from the blissful sensation. It's intoxicating, but I hate it. I hate him — I remind myself. I shouldn't be feeling this turned on by this creep touching me. "Get away from me, you disgusting pervert," I sneer, wanting to shove him off me, but I struggle to do so. Not because his hold on me is firm or inescapable, but because my heart is already racing with excitement at the promise of him fucking me until I lose every single one of my brain cells. ~~~~~~~~ What started as a determined quest for revenge spiraled into something twisted and dark when Whitney Sullivan unexpectedly crossed paths with the school's notorious hockey captain, Carlos Martinez. She wanted revenge for what Carl did to her friend, Jayden Logan, so she decided to seek justice herself. She carefully devised the perfect plan and patiently waited weeks to enact it. However, on the night she sneaked into his mansion to wreak havoc on him, she unfortunately got caught — by him. The devil. He cornered her with a sinister smirk and demanded that before he'd let her go, she'd have to fulfill his sick request after ruining his orgy night with her pathetic revenge attempt. NB: This book contains great smut, morally gray characters, and other strong dark romance themes like twisted obsession and unsolicited possessiveness. (18+).

After I get pregnant with my second child, all the pets in my household start viewing me as their biggest enemy. The tabby cat who once loved clinging to me now poops in my nutritious meals every day. The parrot who only knows how to repeat "hello" begins cursing at me to suffer from a miscarriage. "Die, Leanne Foster!" When I feed the goldfish, they protest against my efforts by quitting food entirely. The next day, they are all dead. Even the terrier I've kept with me for ten years lunges at me like a mad bitch the moment she sees the baby clothes in my hands. After I almost suffer from a miscarriage, I plan on giving the pets away. But my daughter, Harper Steele, hugs the terrier and the cat as she pleads to me sadly, "Mommy, please don't give them away!" My husband, Adam Steele, is worried about my unborn baby, but he also doesn't want to hurt Harper's feelings. In the end, he comes up with a compromising solution. "Honey, there's still one month left till your due date. Just endure the pets for a month, okay? I'll lock them up in their crates and make sure that you're safe." Eventually, I agree to that solution after giving it some thought. But unexpectedly, on the day my water breaks, as soon as I dial Adam's number, the pets rush out of their crates simultaneously and begin tearing at my stomach with their claws and fangs. In the end, I close my eyes weakly from the sheer pain. I can never understand why my pets hate the unborn baby in my womb that much. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I find out I'm pregnant with my second child.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

“The monster you’re talking about,” I muttered, my heart pounding furiously against my chest. “Let it out. I want to feel it,” He smirked, the type that sent shivers down your spine. The type that warned you ‘never make a deal with the devil’ kind. “Watch your tongue, darling,” His cold deep voice had its way of doing something to my stomach, especially when he laid threats. “I don't fuck like a gentleman. I also don't fuck like a monster,” he strides towards me, pinning his gaze on my body. “I fuck like the devil in your nightmares, and you’ll scream like I am your God.” A contract relationship. Signed by ink in words. It was supposed to be a contract, but it was a trap: “Both parties expressly agree that this arrangement is strictly contractual in nature and devoid of any emotional or romantic involvement. Any demonstration of affection, emotional attachment, or behavior suggestive of romantic intent shall constitute a material breach of contract. Violation of this clause will result in immediate termination of the agreement, and the offending party shall forfeit all benefits, assets, or compensations received under this contract. This clause is non-negotiable and emphasized as a binding condition of the agreement.” However, there was another; “Party A must be in a perfect health condition.” *** Olivia Hayes is terminally ill and suffers from cancer. She has lived all her life prioritizing her mother’s health condition until one sentence shattered her dynamism; “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes. The results confirm it is cancer.” With her mother in a critical condition, she struggles to raise the funds for immediate treatment not until her encounter with Ezekiel Grayson, a cold heartless CEO offering a contract that could directly change her life… and destroy it forever.

As I walked through the dimly lit hallway, my heart was still racing, my breath uneven from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me in the last few hours. Then, my eyes flickered up, catching sight of the metal plaque bolted to the doorpost "Wing 1." A cold chill ran down my spine. My body went rigid as Otto’s letter flashed vividly in my mind, the words echoing as if he said it directly to my face "Room 316. Wing 2." No. No. No. No. Oh, God. A sickening wave of realization crashed over me, leaving me breathless. The man in the grey suit… He had smiled, nodded, and gestured me down this hallway. So confident. So sure. And like a fool, I had followed. I had made a mistake. A colossal, irreversible mistake. My stomach twisted violently as the truth settled in, thick and suffocating. I had entered the wrong wing. The wrong room. The wrong bed. I had given myself to a stranger. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. The world tilted, my vision blurred. What had I done? How far is too far? In this encapsulating masterpiesce, Sucre is down for whatever gets him closer to taking revenge on Otto - his twin brother's killer. But, would he really do all that is necessary? Would he chose his ambition over that of Luca the cartel’s underboss and his lover? Can he stop the knife and gun violence on campus and win the five million dollars prize money? Dive into a story of love, betrayal, romance and suspense. The Cartel’s Forbidden Love is a gripping and intriguing read that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

I could hear everything, even with my poor vision. I could hear their horrified gasps and the curses they rained on me. ‘She’s a murderer!’ ‘A pack slut and now a murderer! She needs to leave! We can’t live in fear in our own pack!’ Their curses overshadowed my pleas. This isn’t me—I don’t kill. I would never kill one of my own. I staggered toward where Killain stood—he was shocked. He agreed with them. “Please help me, Killain,” I begged, but he only stared. “You have brought shame to this pack, Samantha,” Killain began. “Tonight was an amazing day—a celebration for the Blood Rose Pack. You give me no choice…” “No, no, please don’t do this to me again. I’m hurt, I’m hurt…please help—” “I, Killain Black, Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack, banish you, Samantha Forbes, from the Blood Rose Pack. You have done nothing but bring shame and disgrace to this pack, and from now on, you will not be associated with Blood Rose.” The pain wasn’t torture—my mate rejecting and banishing me on the same night was torture. I fell to the ground and clutched his robe. “Please, don’t chase me away.” The guards dragged me out of the crowd and deeper into the woods. “This is where you belong! Disgrace!” They dropped me roughly and left. I staggered and tried to get up with the little strength I had left. My eyes landed on the red stain flooding the front of my dress. No, please. My stomach twisted, and I screamed in pain. My babies—not my babies, please. I can’t lose them—they’re the only thing I have left. I need to live. I can’t die—after everything.

"But why me?" I asked the question that was bothering me. "If you hate me so much, why did you decide to marry me? Why didn't you just pick anyone else? Maybe Chiara, or some random lady in Trinigad, why does it have to be me?" I wasn't staring, but I knew he probably looked at me like I was naive or stupid. He clapped his hand, quite loudly, staggering me, "I never said I hated you," he declared, taking me off guard. I looked at him. His hazel eyes pierced at me with an intensity unmatched, making my stomach clench. "You are merely a pawn in my grand plan, a stepping stone. I do not hate you, but I do not need to love you either, I just need to make the most of you." Annalisa, the princess of Trinigad, was born in a world where Omega's were highly revered, and her father — Alpha king of the kingdom of Trinigad, showered her with immense love and gifts as a result. She was spoiled, ruthless. No one had ever refused her anything until she crossed paths with Alpha Alexander. Love at first sight. Alpha Alexander, a man of mystery whose being was an orchestrated falsehood, was the Alpha of the white pack. A pack concentrated in the kingdom of Trinigad. After receiving a marriage proposal from Annalisa, he accepted without hesitation. Albeit, making it clear to her that he only needed her for her womb and he didn't plan on loving her since his heart already belonged to another. As Annalisa and Alexander begin a relationship based on hate, hormones come into play, mate bonds are discovered, secrets are unraveled, one that could potentially orchestrate the downfall of the werewolf species, hanging in the balance of an ultimatum.

Mmm, fuck… That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend fuck me instead?

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

Within the circle, everyone knew I had been Leo’s most devoted, submissive admirer. For thirteen years, I chased him relentlessly, transforming myself from an uneducated, middle-school-dropout, illegitimate child of a wealthy family into an Ivy League economics master’s graduate. Only then did his mother finally acknowledge me, and I became Mrs. Smith. However, after the wedding, I no longer meddled in Leo’s company, cooked, or served him. While he stayed up late planning strategies for his first love, I traveled the world with friends. He would accompany her to Paris fashion shows, and I celebrated my cat’s birthday at home. I understood that a commercial marriage could never produce love. Everything I had poured my heart into was just my own foolish obsession. In my past life, I handled his company’s internal conflicts for him. Yet, he frowned, scolding, “You’re reaching too far.” I cooked soups for his stomach ailments, only to see him hand them off to his overworked first love, brushing it off, “She works harder than I do.” Even on the day I had a car accident, he lit fireworks across the city just to see her smile. I begged him, but he looked down at me from above. “Nicole, what we have is only a transaction.” Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back at our engagement banquet, watching him leave midway to comfort his heartbroken first love. This time, I did not chase after him. Instead, I picked up the microphone and said before all the guests. “Sorry, everyone. My engagement with Leo is canceled.”