Infirmière

Sylvie s'est installée à nouveau au siège passager de la voiture de Lucien. Je n'en étais ni énervée ni protestée. J'ai simplement ouvert la portière arrière et me suis installée à côté de Dimitri, cousin de Lucien. Lorsque la voiture secouait, mon genou a effleuré sa cuisse ferme et tendue. J'ai délibérément choisi de ne pas me déplacer, et lui non plus. Nous avons fait une pause à une station-service. Sylvie a insisté pour que Lucien l'accompagne aux toilettes. Quand la porte de la voiture s'est refermée derrière eux, Dimitri a saisi ma nuque et m'a embrassée. Perdue dans ce baiser, je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de penser : il est vrai que la trahison peut déclencher une sorte d'extase mentale indescriptible.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ Warning ? ? ? this books consist of different erotica short stories, they are not long stories, and also 18+ content ahead, if you're below 18 please refrain from reading You think I care about titles?” he asked, stepping even closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Do you think that matters to me?” “It should,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “It matters to me.” He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" “Because,” I said quickly, searching for the right words. “Because people like me... we don’t belong with people like you. You’re... you’re powerful, and I’m—” “Beautiful,” he cut me off, his voice firm. I froze, my words dying on my lips. “What?” I whispered. “You’re beautiful, Sophia,” he said again, his tone softer this time. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice it. You think being a maid defines you, but it doesn’t. Not to me.”

My girlfriend had one of those guy friends she insisted was basically family. On a group hike, he knew I had diabetes and couldn't eat anything high in sugar, but he still coaxed me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, and my blood sugar spiked almost instantly. When I pulled out my insulin to inject, panic shot through me. My medication had been switched out for saline. I collapsed to the ground, shaking and retching. The fake nice-guy just looked down at me with a smug twist of his mouth. "Seriously, man? You're being dramatic. It's just a little sugar. Good thing I told Selene to swap your meds, or we'd never know how far you'd go to fake it. With a body this weak, how are you supposed to protect Selene?" I turned to my girlfriend, my breathing already turning shallow. "Selene, give me my insulin. If I don't inject it right now, I'm going to die." She frowned as if I were the one being unreasonable. "You're overacting. I've never heard of someone dying from a bit of sugar. Adrian's right. You're always looking for attention. Everyone finally got together today, and you're here ruining it." I felt everything inside me go cold. I didn't even bother arguing anymore. I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and rasped, "Mom, your son's about to get bullied to death. Are you going to step in or not?"

Le monde d'Isla s'écroule. Son jeune frère, Ezra, est gravement malade, et l'opération chirurgicale qui lui sauvera la vie a un prix qu'elle ne peut se permettre. Désespérée et à court d'options, elle se tourne vers l'homme que tout le monde craint : Leonardo De Luca, la figure la plus dangereuse et la plus insaisissable de la ville. Lorsqu'elle implore son aide, Leonardo lui propose un choix brutal : il sauvera son frère, mais à un prix qu'Isla n'aurait jamais imaginé. Liée par un contrat qui lui donne la propriété de sa vie – et de son corps –, Isla est forcée de sombrer dans un monde de ténèbres, de pouvoir et de cruauté. Pourtant, Leonardo n'est pas tout à fait ce qu'il paraît. Derrière son apparence froide et impitoyable se cache une complexité qui terrifie et trouble Isla. Alors qu'elle lutte pour protéger son frère tout en survivant sous son emprise, Isla découvre que le salut a souvent un prix bien plus élevé qu'elle ne l'aurait imaginé, et que l'amour, la peur et le désir peuvent s'entremêler dangereusement.

"I’m not angry," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I’m focused." "On what?" He walked toward her, and for the first time, Giovanni felt her wolf howl in warning. She backed up until her heels hit the edge of the massive bed. "On the reason you’re here," he said. He reached out, his hand wrapping around her throat—not to choke her, but to force her to look at him. "Do you have any idea what you’re worth to me, Giovanni?" "I... I love you, Russell. I’ll be the best Luna I can—" "I don't need a Luna," he interrupted, his face inches from hers. His breath smelled of expensive bourbon. "I need an heir. A strong, Alpha-blooded heir to secure my legacy against my brother and the council." "And we’ll have one," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears of relief. "We’ll have a family." Russell let out a dark, chilling chuckle. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, but there was no heat, only ice. "You don't get it, do you? You’re not a queen, Giovanni. You’re a vessel. And tonight, I’m going to fill you." He shoved her back onto the bed, his weight following her down instantly. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his eyes flashing that terrifying, predatory gold. "Wait," she gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Russell, please, let’s just slow down..."

Résumé : Il m’a tout pris. Et je vais tout lui reprendre. Quand j’avais huit ans, Antonio Guerero a fait exploser mon monde à coups de balles et de rires. Il a violé ma mère sous les yeux de mon père impuissant, puis les a exécutés l’un après l’autre. Ma sœur Doriane a subi le même sort, fauchée dans son innocence. Moi, j’étais cachée sous la table. Paralysée. Spectatrice impuissante de l’horreur. Depuis ce jour, je ne vis plus. Je survis. Dix-huit ans à nourrir la colère, à former ma haine. Dix-huit ans à me forger une nouvelle identité. Mon nom est Layanne Williams, j’ai 26 ans, et je suis devenue l’une des meilleures Bodyguards de Mexico. Recueillie par Lys Taylor, une femme brisée elle aussi par Guerero, j’ai appris à me battre, à tuer, à survivre. Elle a fait de moi une arme. Et aujourd’hui, cette arme est prête à frapper. Antonio Guerero est devenu un homme puissant : ministre influent, chef d’entreprise intouchable, père de famille aimé. Mais il a oublié une chose. Moi. Il m’a volé mon passé. Je vais lui arracher son présent. Sa famille. Son pouvoir. Sa vie. Je suis sa fin.

My usually cold and distant wife shared a bowl of soup with her newly joined colleague. Surprisingly, I felt calm, even as I brought up divorce. She sneered at me, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm exhausted. He's just a colleague of mine." "Even if we're married, you have no right to interfere with what I do with my colleagues." "If that's what you think, then I can't help you." When I actually put the divorce papers in front of her, she flew into a rage. "Ryan, do you think the Wagners were still what they used to be? You're nothing without me!"

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, BDSM, Spanking Luella Morningstar, daughter of the one, the only Lucifer, left hell to find herself, to find out who she is rather than just living in her dad's shadow. Whilst working as Lucifer's little assassin topside, Luella encounters tall, dark and mysterious - vampire Sebastian. The problem? They're immediately attracted to each other. The bigger problem? They're hunting the same demon. Can they stop the immediate attraction between them from causing problems? The truthful answer - no. They get closer and closer - exploring Luella's world, their bodies, desires and worst fears - together. After all, Hell is built in violence and sex.

“Hey little brother, wanna get married? Here are nine bucks, it’s on me!”Just like that, Cecelia Shayne gave herself away with nine bucks.Consequently…The random cutie she dragged off the street? He’s a poor good-for-nothing who needs her to tend to his every need.However, there’s nothing she can do.This is a husband she bought, and she needs to swallow this somehow.But… But…Why does his name seem to be the same as the owner of a certain conglomerate…?What?Asset transfer?Cecelia was shocked. “Why’re you giving me all this money?”William Sandler looked her dead in the eye, “Money’s yours, you’re mine!”

Hands. So many hands. They're everywhere, sliding up my thighs, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair. I can't see their faces, but I don't need to. I feel them. Three of them, surrounding me, claiming me. One behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath hot against my neck. Another in front, his mouth trailing fire down my throat. The third watching, waiting, his presence a dark promise.* "You're ours," one of them growls, and the sound vibrates through my entire body.