Hisoka Hair Down

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a crumpled, torn scrap of paper. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

Warning❗️❗️Rated 18+ This story contains mature themes and extreme sexual content. Reader’s discretion is advised. ****** “Go down on your knees and suck my cock like a good little whore.” Aurora gasped as he grabbed her hair, making her face down on his cock. She sucked slowly, starting with the tip of his cock. “Fuck…” he growled, arching his back and closing his eyes, clearly enjoying the feeling. His fingers reached for her nipples and he squeezed softly, earning a moan from her. He continued to move his dick deeper into her throat, making her suck continuously, and she gagged and choked on it. “Enough foreplay. Let’s fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear as she trembled beneath him. “Let’s see how wet that pussy of yours is. I’m going to make you sweat.” ****** Aurora Sinclair, a timid twenty-two-year-old barista has spent her entire life being invisible. Invisible to the world. And most painfully, invisible to the younger brother who was supposed to be her only family. So when Kevin, reckless and cruel, gambles away twenty billion dollars to the wrong people and decides the only currency he has left is his sister, Aurora’s quiet little life doesn’t just shatter—it burns totally. Marcel Dante is not a man who makes mistakes. The ruthless Mafia King built his empire on fear, loyalty, and blood. Women throw themselves at his feet, men beg at his door, and no one dares to challenge him. So when a broken, trembling girl is placed before him like a bargaining chip, Marcel has every reason to reject her. But something stirs. Something dangerous. And against every instinct, he takes her. What begins as a cruel transaction spirals into something neither of them can control. What happens when desire turns dangerous?

Sunny is an aspiring writer who wants to venture the world of writing erotic romance. One night, while she was browsing some photos to use as her book cover, she saw a picture of a very handsome man with dark-blue hair yet green emerald eyes. Sunny used the photo without knowing what awaits her after the man in the photo knew that his photo was used in an erotic novel.

" I hate you." his piercing gaze on me darkened. "Hate me all you want,that, doesn't change the fact that you belong to me." Gripping my chin, his eyes challenge me to deny it. I take a step back, his grip on my hair tightens, as his lips graze against mine "Never ever deny me your touch wife."

In the heart of a 21st-century Ohio college town, eighteen-year-old Leera, a grieving freshman with silver hair and a hidden werewolf legacy, collides with Roman, a centuries-old alpha and hockey star haunted by the loss of his first mate. Their electric mate bond, a rare second chance bestowed by the Moon Goddess, ignites a passionate romance that defies Roman’s arranged engagement to the cunning India, who will stop at nothing including abduction to claim the werewolf throne.

“No, please…. please don't hurt Eldric,” she begged him to not hurt her husband which made him grab a fist of her hair and pull her face closer to his. She yelped in pain. “So you really love your husband a lot to beg me for his life?” He glowered down at her. “You did give him that thing which I had always needed from you,” he seethed out. Her heart ached more terribly when she saw that searing pain flashing in his gaze for a split second before his viciousness took over him completely. “Fine, I will spare your dear husband’s life tonight if you would be able to stop me,” he uttered and cupped the back of her neck. She witnessed his rapacious gaze wandering all over her face and body hungrily before it stopped at her lips. “And I guess you already know how to stop me, Mrs Ariella Eldric Kohler….” he smirked wickedly at her mouth before trailing his predacious eyes back at her gaze. Turning completely vulnerable, she closed her glossy eyes and then pressed her lips against his, giving him what he had been demanding from her at the cost of her husband's life. Feeling the delicate warmth of her mouth against his, he plunged himself deeper inside her core once again, making her yelp in pain. “Moan my name, Ella…” he groaned, thrusting inside her harder. Tears rolled down from her eyes. “Aahh….K…Kieran….” her moan made him slam his mouth against her where he twisted her very being to become his salvation from her sin. Why was she letting this fatal man ruin not only her but her wedding vows too, who was surviving his life with the only purpose of destroying her? Read to find out…..

This is the completed 1st book. Ellie is the top female warrior of her pack and a tomboy. She also happens to be the most beautiful she-wolf with golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes. When she has more than wolf fighting to claim her as his, will she listen to her heart, the mate bond, or her head? One thing is for sure. Ellie belongs to no one. Book 2 The Rogue's Winter Revenge is also a complete book and can be found on Good Novel!

“I am married, Mateo, you need..” He grabbed my hair aggressively and claimed my lips. “I don't care.. I still want you. You are mine!” He pinned me against the wall and grabbed my ass. “Mateo, we are in my matrimonial home..” “Fuck that” Astrid, a 30-year-old woman, and Mateo, a 22-year-old dude, got into a secret and dangerous love affair, but is it genuine from both sides and how long can they keep it a secret???

Cocky, arrogant, and dropped dead gorgeous: That described my boss, Mr. Craft, to a T. His thick hair, cold blue eyes and strong jaw held power in a conference meeting, causing women to melt in his presence. I’ve wanted to confront him on his stubborn attitude and critical demands for employees. I’d bitten my tongue in many scenarios and held in my true feelings over a dozen times. Keeping the peace was necessary until I had enough experience under my belt to move onto bigger and better things. The only problem was; Craft Marketing was the bigger and better, and the longer I stuck it out with him, meant more opportunities would arise. I’d been the only female intern to land a job directly under him, and was also the only one who hadn’t slept with him. I knew he was promiscuous with the tall and leggy blondes that breezed into his office looking immaculate, then scurried back out with mussed hair, flushed cheeks, and unbuttoned blouses. I'd ignore the magnetic pull of chemistry and curiosity between us. Unless it came to my advantage.