Infirmière

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

“This is wrong. You’re supposed to help me fix my marriage” “And yet here you are, squirming under my hands like you're begging me to break it” “You're too close… I can’t think straight when you’re this close” “Then stop thinking. Just feel.” He leans in, his breath brushing against my lips. “Tell me to stop Lillian—and I will. But if you don’t, I’m going to kiss and claim your body like I’ve imagined a thousand times on that chair” *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* When Lillian Calloway walks into marriage counseling, she’s desperate—not just to save her crumbling relationship with her emotionally distant husband, but to hold together the image of a perfect life. Then she meets Dr Ronan Carter. Calm, devastatingly handsome and far too familiar for her comfort. Each session unravels more than just the crack in her marriage—it exposes desires she’s locked away for years. Ronan makes her feel alive. And when the professional lines begin to blur, Lillian finds herself stepping on the edge of something forbidden. He’s her counselor. She’s his client. Falling for each other will cost them everything. But what if the biggest lie was the marriage they were trying to save?

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

My husband, Martin, was the head of a powerful mafia don. When his widowed sister-in-law, Tricia, got into a car accident, I was forced to give her a blood transfusion. I told them through tears that I was newly pregnant and too weak to donate, but they accused me of faking the medical report. “You were out running just last week. Now you’re claiming you’re pregnant when you’re asked to donate some blood? You just don’t want to help Tricia!” In the end, they drew my blood by force. The strain caused me to miscarry, and while I bled out, my husband stayed by Tricia’s side. After that, I didn’t beg him to return. I dragged my broken body away, left the divorce papers behind, and left him for good. However, when the truth finally came to light, Martin lost his mind with regret.

“Be a good girl and hold your legs open, little slut. You’re gonna take daddy’s cock, every inch, while your bastard ex-boyfriend watches.” ****** We’ve all undoubtedly long to experience being claimed, owned, devoured and ruined by multiple men at once. To have them call all the shots, use and throw you around like a weightless doll… it’s not just wild, it’s… taboo. Here’s an opportunity to live voraciously through the scotching pages, and experience a thrill of pleasure unlike never before. Here, raw heat is unashamedly served with a side of forbidden, and toppings of so many illicit desires. Before diving in, put aside your hesitations, your morals and your conscience— yes, that. And strut in with nothing but a hunger that would be thoroughly sated from the very first page. From shy virgins losing their first time to a group of hot daddies, to a little brat being ruined by her father’s bestfriend group, to an innocent nerd being devoured by her group of childhood bullies, and so much more. Come in and meet the naughty brat who’s kept on a leash by a friend group, to be passed around the whole room throughout the night for everyone to make use of her until boredom, all while she’s not allowed to cum… Come on in! But be prepared to be brought to the edge countless times, till you’re holding your breath like the naughty secretary being spanked in an ongoing meeting, till you’re dripping wet like the omega in heat who’s begging her alpha daddies to let her cum, till you’re wishing you’re one of these lucky, lucky girls. Again, come on in. [An Erotica Collection.]

Issue d’une famille recomposée, Chantelle a grandi en marge, élevée avec amour par sa grand-mère après la mort de sa mère. Écartée par son père Gérard, dominé par sa nouvelle épouse Rhonda, et reléguée derrière Mégane, sa demi-sœur prétentieuse, elle a appris à survivre dans le silence. Lorsque sa grand-mère tombe gravement malade, un diagnostic sans appel bouleverse son quotidien. N’ayant ni soutien familial ni ressources suffisantes, Chantelle accepte une proposition inattendue : 100 nuits contre un million d’euros, avec un homme riche, dont elle ne connaîtra jamais l'identité. À chaque rencontre, l’homme porte un masque, garde le silence, et ne lui laisse que des transferts bancaires anonymes et un parfum entêtant comme souvenir. Un jour, contrainte par son père de participer à un dîner familial, Chantelle découvre avec stupeur le fiancé de Mégane : Collen Wilkerson, PDG froid et inaccessible du puissant groupe où elle travaille comme simple employée. Dès leur rencontre, elle est troublée. Un détail la foudroie : son parfum. C’est exactement celui de l’homme masqué avec qui elle a partagé douze nuits et il en restait quatre-vingt-huit.

Débordée entre son rôle de mère au foyer et son travail, Jane se retrouve submergée par le stress. Son fils, Jimie, souffre de la solitude, d’autant plus que son père, accaparé par son propre emploi, est rarement présent. Inquiets pour leur enfant, Jane et son mari n’ont d’autre choix que d’engager une nounou pour veiller sur lui et lui apporter du réconfort. Mais trouver la perle rare s’avère plus compliqué que prévu… jusqu’à l’arrivée de Danielle. Belle, attentionnée et compétente, elle s’intègre rapidement dans la famille et accomplit son travail à merveille. Peut-être même un peu trop…

Let's just say that there's a boy who's obviously inlove with a girl and unfortunately she feels the same way. Sounds like a perfect love story, right? Finding your prince and he ends up liking you. But what if you're not the princess he's looking for? You're not the lead character who ends up with the leading man? To put it simply, you're not the girl he likes. Well, that's me and the girl he likes is unfortunately my friend. But sometimes, I just wonder... did I ever cross your mind? You see, I'm just wondering... Do you ever think of liking me...? Tell me, am I crazy or is this more than a crush....? I was a complete idiot to fell in love with whom I don't even have the slightest chance... But all I know is I was enchanted to meet you.

Liam, my stepbrother, has been a pain in the rear for three years. We fight every time we talk. Every time we see each other, we remember that moment, which we never talk about. The one in the yard behind where our parents had their wedding dinner. The event that almost made everything bad. Our parents are now going for a trip to celebrate their first anniversary, leaving us all alone in the house. Simple plan: we'll stay on different sides, ignore each other, and act like we're working. But then there's a fire on my side of the house, and all of a sudden I have to share a floor, a hallway, and a wall that is too thin to be safe with him. The worst times are at night. I hear him. I can feel him. And every disagreement ends too close. Every stare stays too long. Every breath turns into heat I can’t escape. We’re supposed to protect our parents’ happiness. We’re supposed to act like good brothers. But how do you pretend you hate someone when all you want is to drag him into your bed? Then the holidays arrive with our whole extended family. We’re forced to play perfect boys while nearly pulling each other apart behind locked doors. And just when I think things can’t get worse, Liam’s cheating ex shows up begging to take him back. The jealousy nearly wrecks me… and reveals everything. But the real disaster hits one night with a broken condom and a hurried hospital visit. Two scary weeks that make us imagine a life we’re not supposed to want. A future that feels too good to lose. The test is negative. But the damage is done. We want each other.

La nuit de ma première transformation, à dix-huit ans, mes deux frères aînés ont emmené à la maison une Oméga orpheline de douze ans. Mon frère Alpha s'est emparé de la précieuse herbe médicinale pour laquelle j'avais dépensé toutes mes économies : des herbes censées apaiser la douleur de ma première transformation, et les lui a données à elle, à la place. « Tu es assez forte, » a-t-il grogné, « tu n'as pas besoin d'herbes aussi précieuses. » Mon frère Bêta a rugi de colère, en pointant la porte du doigt. « Dehors ! Et ne reviens pas ! » Sans un mot, j'ai pris mon sac, déjà prêt, et je suis partie. Ils pensaient que je faisais juste un caprice, que je reviendrais au bout de quelques jours. Libérés de ma présence, mes frères ont emmené la petite orpheline en vacances à l'étranger, sur les îles des Caraïbes : celles dont j'avais toujours rêvé. De nombreux jours plus tard, lorsqu'ils sont revenus à la meute, ils ont été stupéfaits d'apprendre que j'avais accepté un poste du Chef Guérisseur de la meute voisine. Le poste exigeait quinze années de recherches isolées sur les plantes médicinales. Je ne pouvais plus jamais rentrer chez moi. Cette nuit-là, ils se sont effondrés.