Head Above Water Lyrics

I fell in love with the nanny's son. After boldly pursuing him, he reluctantly agreed to marry me. But I never expected his young lover to storm into my home like a madwoman, prying my mouth open to pour scalding water down my throat, pressing me into a sink full of dirty water, and finally pushing me down the stairs. My husband stood by my hospital bed, looking at my broken body with disdain. "Irene, every moment with you makes me sick," he spat, barely able to hide his impatience for my death. Yet, when I finally died, he sobbed uncontrollably in public, playing the role of the devoted, heartbroken husband. "Irene, don't leave me! You have no idea how much I wanted to die with you!" At that, I spoke softly from behind him. "Is that so?"

Fresh from a business trip, my husband swept me into his arms and pulled me toward the bathroom for a passionate shared bath. As our lips met in a dizzying kiss, I noticed something odd out of the corner of my eye: the toilet lid was down. Seven years ago, after reading an online article claiming that men urinating while standing could splash bacteria onto the seat, he insisted we always keep the lid up for hygiene's sake. In all our years of marriage, it had never been lowered until now. A chill ran through me. The bathroom was pristine, not a stray hair in sight. But then I noticed the shower's water temperature was set five degrees higher than the 98.6°F he always preferred. Men preferred cooler water, and women warmer. In an instant, I realized that Nick Doyle had betrayed me.

I'm discovered by a man who's gone fishing early in the morning. I'm caught on his hook, but he can't pull me up, no matter how hard he tugs. He comes closer to see me floating in the water and is terrified. He runs off to call the police, leaving his fishing pole behind. When the police get me out of the water, I'm hanging on by a thread. Even the doctors who participate in my rescue think they can't save me. When they call my husband and tell him to come sign some forms, he tells me he doesn't have time for that. He's busy making a hot drink for his true love, who has a cold. Later, he bawls his eyes out and begs me to spare him another glance.

"Let me go," I snapped, even though my voice wasn’t as sharp as I wanted it to be. “No,” he growled, lips grazing the shell of my ear, his breath warm and wicked as his hand slid down, fingers pressing just above my thigh, and trailed all the way to my wet fold. “You want to hate this, don’t you?” he whispered, mouth trailing hot kisses along my neck as his hand shifted my underwear, “But your body’s begging, baby.” I gasped, lips parting, and before I could spit out a comeback, he crushed his mouth to mine. The kiss was rough, full of hunger, and I whimpered into his mouth before I could stop myself. My body pressed into his, desperate for more. But he suddenly pulled both his lips and hand back, “Say the word and I’ll stop.” I stared at him. My chest was rising and falling too fast. My lips were swollen. My thighs, God, I was throbbing. I want, I need. He pressed a knee between my legs and my and I mewed. Yes, me. I mewed like some needy, pathetic bitch in heat. For him. "That’s what I thought," he growled, and the next second he pinned both my wrists above my head and kissed me like he was trying to ruin me all over again. **** Liora once has a powerful name, a future paved in gold, until Tristan Cole walked in and tore everything apart. Now, years later, Liora is forced into a marriage contract with the very man who destroyed her life, all to save her dying brother. But Tristan wants something more dangerous. Her heart. Her body, all of her. Will love be her ultimate undoing? Or will she crawl out of wreckage and gain control?

Wives are to be claimed, whores are for fucking. But me? I’m to be PLEASURED. ~~~ Chelsea Stone signed the contract expecting a cold and dead marriage. Instead she found herself collared by Dominic Hartwell – a man whose rules were written in silk restraints, leather belts, and the low growl of full command. He bound her wrists above her head and taught her that silence was no longer armor; it was foreplay. He spread her wide open on silk sheets and edged her for hours with fingers, tongue, and the thick head of his veiny cock until she was dripping, shaking, and sobbing “Please, big daddy… I’ll be good.” Only then did he drive into her deep and relentless, one hand tight around her throat, the other spanking her ass while he fucked her into shattering, screaming release. Chelsea was never meant to stay broken though, because in the darkness between punishments and praise, she began to crave more than surrender. She wanted to test him, to push and whisper filthy things against his ear while she rode his thigh, soaked and trembling: “I want to be your little cunt who shows big daddy who’s really boss.” Dominic’s eyes darkened with dangerous promise every time she dared. The more he punished her with a be*t across her, cock down her throat until tears ran down her cheeks, hands pinning her down while he claimed every inch of her. The more she burned to flip their power while he owned her body. Yet as old enemies sharpened their knives and forbidden pasts, pain and pleasure blurred until Chelsea no longer knew where submission ended and rebellion began. Would she kneel forever… OR would the quiet wife finally make her ruthless husband beg?

Rejected by her Mate and being torn between two Realms, one where she grew up as a Water Elemental and healer and one where she is a werewolf Princess by birthright, Amaya Ricci will need to choose between her Alter ( Mate) and family.

“Why can’t I hit you?” Thomas yells, smacking the belt close to her feet. “Why,” he smacks it on the door above her head. “Why, why” to the right and left sides of her body. Melina trembles against the door with her eyes closed and head tucked between her knees. She jumps, sniffing Thomas’ cologne, and tries to hide more. He’s probably bending down. “I want to hurt you, Melina, but I can’t. Tell me why I can’t. Tell me why,” she bites her lips to muffle her sobs as she fears they will exacerbate her situation. “ look at me when I am talking to you,” Thomas says, grabbing her hair and pulling her head up. “I am- so-r-r-r-y,” she says as she turns to face him with her tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes. ******** Melina Davis was born with the face and body of a goddess. Her heart was as beautiful as her, but it never did her any good. Melina was the most unlucky woman in this world when it came to love. Her first love was an abusive con artist who made sure to exploit Melina's kindness. The second one who Melina felt was genuinely worthy of owing her heart was far more dangerous than her first. His name is Thomas Costanzo. He is the second in command of the Costanzo mafia. He was highly feared in the mafia world. Some even feared him more than the don of the Costanzo mafia. Melina didn't know she shouldn't cross him, and she did. She broke the heart of one of the most feared men on this earth, and now, he is out searching for her. Once he finds her, Melina will wish she never crossed paths with him.

“You look perfect like this,” one whispered, fingers down my thigh. “I wondered if you really killed her, did you?” Cuffed, wrists above my head, legs bare and open, one ran a flogger over my belly. I arched back, gasping. Another leaned in, breath hot at my neck. The third stood at the edge of the bed, watching me squirm. “We don’t even need to touch you to make you beg.” Then he finally did, he slipped two fingers straight between my legs, slow and deep. “Oh my god,” I moaned, hips bucking. “You’re this wet already?” he growled, curling his fingers inside me. “And we haven’t even started fucking you yet.” The one at my neck licked a trail down to my collarbone. “You killed her. Admit it.” I shook my head, but my body gave me away. My legs were shaking. I was clenching around his fingers like I’d never been touched before. "I didn't do it." I moaned again “Say whose hole this is,” he demanded. “M-mine—” The flogger struck my thigh. “Try again." I looked up, breathless. “Yours. Fuck. It’s yours.” ******** Chloe was sent to Nightshade Academy, the same elite school where her sister allegedly took her own life. To earn her father’s approval and uncover the truth, she had no choice but to go. Now, after another student is found dead, Chloe was the prime suspect due to the circumstances surrounding the death. Tied by an unbreakable bond to the three Alpha triplets sent to catch the killer. Now, Chloe is caught in their dangerous web. Worse? She’s mated to all three who are determined to make her accept to the crime.

On the night that Charlotte Slate was betrayed by her husband Andy, she has a one-night stand with a mysterious stranger. Little did she know, her one-night stand was none other than billionaire CEO Micah McKaine, also known as Kingpin Kane, the most dangerous man on the West Coast. When Charlotte becomes an exotic dancer to make ends meet, a twist of fate brings these two back together as their paths cross unexpectedly under the stage lights. When Micah sees her perform for the first time, his passion is rekindled and he is even more determined than ever to make her his--especially when he learns that she is the wife of double-crossing protege Andy, Micah devises a plan involving her to take down a common enemy. Can Micah convince this “good girl” to be his avenging angel? _____ "Charlotte," he whispers into my hair as he holds me close. "Please just let me hold you. Just this once. I know you aren't free to love me, but I want something more to remember before we need to play it safe. Please, cher." "Oh Micah," I melt into him, needing his touch just as much as he needs mine. "We can't do this." What starts as a gentle embrace starts to become something else as he pulls my head back to stare directly into my eyes. Bringing his head down slowly, his lips hover above mine, not quite touching. "Is that so?" He licks my lips and I feel my core release, wet and ready for so much more. This man that just a moment ago induced so much fear in me, is igniting my passion beyond reason. "Give me one good reason why I should kiss you right now and have my way with you in the back of this car."

As my due date approaches, my husband's precious mistress falls into the water at a banquet. After being rescued, she immediately accuses me of pushing her. To "avenge" her, he throws me into a modified stainless steel water tank. I beg him, pleading for the sake of our unborn children. But he only sneers. "Don't try to use the babies to guilt me! You've still got a week before you're due. I know exactly how vicious you are—any child of yours would be just as rotten. Stay in there and reflect on your behavior. I'll let you out when you finally admit you're wrong!" Five days later, my husband returns home from a night out with his mistress, calling for me to come downstairs and serve them, as always. He doesn't know that my babies and I have already rotted beyond recognition.