How To Draw Stretch Marks

"You don't simply stop playing a game. Especially when it's mine; you either win. Or loose." Vasili had told her this eight years ago, and eight years later she'd said, "Wrong. Allow me to introduce you to the word 'draw'." *** Emily Moralez was certain the universe was determined to screw her over. She's been caught in a crossfire between two rivaling syndicates, her father's made arrangements for her to get married to a don twice her age--despite knowing she has a boyfriend. And said boyfriend cheated on her the day before their engagement. And it gets worse. Vasili Romanov. The name was feared, revered, respected: hated. Emily knew where she fell. In the percentage that hated him. Vasili Romanov was back for her family. Back to destroy it, her, and everything she held dear with a vengeance that burned as hot as the passion he ignited in her.

One morning, Piper Smith woke up to find herself naked with clothes scattered on the floor and kiss marks on several parts of her body. She had no memory and no idea with whom she had spent a passionate night. The incident led to her being evicted from her grandma’s mansion. Eight months later, she gave birth and became a single parent to her son. Until one day, an offer to become a private tutor for a girl from a wealthy family came to her. Piper, who was struggling financially, did not hesitate to accept the job offer. And from there, Piper finally discovered a shocking fact that had been hidden from her all this time. What was the shocking fact? Who was the man she had spent the night with? Will Piper and her son be happy? Note: Book cover from Kiss.

"I don't think my brother is someone you need. He's not the kind of alpha who could ever satisfy a woman like you.” I raised my chin and met Alexander's eyes. "And who do you think I need? What do you think will satisfy me?” He closed the gap between us and ran his heated eyes to my lips, to my throat, down to my body as if he was marking me and making love to me with those blue intense eyes. I looked away but Alexander tilted my head to meet my gaze. One touch and the hunger and the burn inside me intensified. His piercing eyes returned to my lips.“You don't need soft kisses. That's for little girls. You need fervent, explosive kisses. The ones that will try to suck the air within you, leaving you breathless but eager for more.” His hands dropped down to my waist, pulling me closer to his big and hard frame. “You need to be marked not with an alpha scent. That’s for men with an inferiority complex. You need to be claimed with kisses and bite marks that will make everyone jealous of how you spent your night. Because you are not just any woman, Katriona. You are a queen, a hot and wild queen.” I pushed Alexander away. I could hear my heart banging inside my chest. Logic screamed louder this time, desperately enumerating all the reasons why I shouldn’t be with this man. But as he stood there while waiting for my decision, I became aware of one thing. Whoever I choose, in the end, I’m still going to burn. It'll be a sin. And I'm going to hell for this.

My daughter, Tina, locked herself in her room, crying so hard her body shook. I pried the door open and saw that she was clutching a test paper that was torn to shreds and pieced back together. It was a math Olympiad selection test. She should have gotten a perfect score, but was given a score of zero instead. "Mom," she sobbed, "the teacher said 3x5 is not equal to 5x3; that it's taking shortcuts. She tore my paper up in front of everyone, revoked my eligibility for the competition, and told the whole class not to talk to me…" I looked at the deep red scratch marks on my daughter's wrist and immediately picked up the phone to call the principal. "What good does it do for your school's reputation to drive a kid who loves math to their breaking point?"

On the day of my marking ceremony, my mate, Alex Burke, and my sister, Rose Roth, are caught mating in the dressing room. This renders me the laughingstock of the entire pack. While I'm drowning in humiliation, the Alpha, Nate Hyland, steps forward and marks me in front of everyone! After we get married, Nate treats me exceptionally well. However, we're never able to conceive a pup. Eventually, I turn to IVF and finally get pregnant. Nate becomes even more attentive to me. He even calls me "Darling" in his sleep. I think this is a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This continues until I hear the conversation between Nate and his Beta one day. "How could you, Nate? Luna Diana adores you and cares for you so much. But just because Rose is scared of pain and doesn't want to go through pregnancy, you secretly switched their eggs and made Luna Diana carry her child? The pup is due in two months! What are you going to do about this?" Nate goes silent for a moment. Then, he sighs softly and replies, "When the pup is born, I'll hand him to Rose and let her live out her dream of being a mother. I'll tell Diana the pup was stillborn. She's just an abandoned Omega. Staying with her for life is compensation enough." So all the love and tenderness he showed me is fake. I immediately schedule an abortion, as I don't want this filthy pup. And I am certainly not holding on to this sham of a marriage either. I may be an Omega, but I am no one's pawn.

In the second year of my marriage to Jeffery Sadler, he brought a young woman home. When his eyes met mine, Jeffery smiled carelessly and said, "Naomi, perhaps you should try it too." He added, "After all, young and energetic people are truly different." I knew he was only testing me; he had always enjoyed tormenting and toying with me. But what he didn't know was that this time, I was genuinely tempted. Later, as he stared at the fresh scratch marks on the "young person's" waist and abdomen, his eyes blazed red with anger. "Naomi Sloan," he growled, “Who gave you the audacity to actually take this seriously?”

“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —” “This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy. The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat. A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight. He seated it fully, the cool silver pressing against her deepest parts. He held it there, letting her feel the full, impossible intrusion. Her body fought it, spasming around the unyielding object, which only made the sensation more brutal, more specific. She was panting, her tears soaking the linen, her entire universe reduced to the cold metal splitting her open. “Now,” Mark said, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her. His hand remained on the handle, not moving it yet. “You will stay just like this. And you will finish your dinner.” ..... Enter a world of passion, pleasure, and desire with “Steamy Encounters."

On my boyfriend, Draco Leroyce's birthday, I take him to a newly-opened fancy restaurant of my own for his birthday meal. Thinking that we'll be having a birthday cake for dessert later, Draco and I decide to order a set meal that includes a pizza and a plate of pasta. With a smile, I hand the menu over to the waitress. She plasters a fake smile on her face as she grabs the menu. But she secretly calls us "broke ass bastards" in Virellian. I draw my brows into a deep frown instantly. "What did you just say?" The waitress is momentarily stunned. Then, she shoots me another fake smile. "I said I'll prepare your food right away." I just sneer back at the waitress before responding to her in fluent Virellian, "You were calling us broke ass bastards."

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

On my birthday—the same day Troy hyped some "surprise" for me online—I saw a photo that afternoon. He was on my horse. With his assistant. His shirt hung open, red finger marks dragged across his chest. Caption? [First time in my life. Thanks to him.] The comments went wild: [Jealous of whoever touched those abs.] [That position... damn.] Troy liked that one. My chest went cold. I thought that side of him was just for me. Turns out—it could be anyone. I washed the horse myself. Scrubbed off every trace. Then I signed the ranch over to him. "You can give the rest away. Pick whoever you want." He lit up. I said yes to the arranged marriage.