Is Bella From Twilight Gay

"Let me go!" She struggles, but it's useless. "Not happening, Princess. Someone wants to say hello.” "Did you really think you could run from me, sweetheart? Did you honestly believe you could embarrass me in front of everyone and just disappear?” He reaches out and traces his finger along her jaw. She tries to pull away, but the man holding her hair tightens his grip. "You look terrible, baby. All dirty and scratched up. That's what happens when spoiled princesses try to survive in the real world." "Go to hell!" "I'll get there eventually. But first, I have some good news for you…” ~~~~~~~~~~ Watch out for an intriguing blast of “Cloaked Scent From The Alpha”... A story full of real tensions and pleasures.. waiting to be unveiled on each page, from the world of fiction, into the world of reality of Princess Aria Stone!

"I'm a dominatrix, Harry. I need control! In business, in life, in my home... in sex." She looked at him, who now had his eyes fixed on her. It wasn't that he had become less shy or more comfortable, he simply continued to follow orders, without even understanding why he was doing it. "But the club tired me... the submissive guys at the club tired me." She returned to the sofa, then moved much closer to him, bringing their knees together, and took a firm hold of his chin when, for a second, he dared to look away from her. "So I really wanted to try something new, Harry." Kath took a deep breath and said a few words that would have the power to radically change two stories. "I want YOU to agree to be my new submissive."

To help her lover win the rally championship, my fiancée, Alanna Johnson, deliberately sabotaged my race car. The vehicle lost control on a curve at nearly two hundred miles per hour, and in utter despair, I called her one last time. Her voice, however, brimmed with impatience. “Stop being dramatic. “This championship means nothing to you, but Jack is about to retire. This is his final chance. “Once this race ends, I’ll cut all ties with him and marry you. All right?” But she never realized that this event had drawn unprecedented global attention. After my death, the in-car surveillance footage would be released to the world. And she would face a judgment far worse than death.

Married three years. Stood up three years. Today was the last time I bothered showing up. Surprise—he bailed again. Still clinging to hope like a total idiot, I called. One last shot. "A-Aurora, I'm busy. Just wait," he muttered. And then her voice cut in. All breathy and smug: "That old woman can't satisfy you, huh? Paolo, be gentle." Click. Right on cue, Marco Medici—loyal, patient, saint-like Marco—sent his 99th proposal. This time, I didn't leave him hanging. [Want to come over for bollito misto?]

First thing Leah Labelle did after Andrew Fillion's funeral? Ask her husband Ian for a divorce. Why? Because Ian's entire family thought the perfect way to honor his dead brother was to knock up the widow. Naturally. "My parents are threatening to hang themselves or starve, Leah. What was I supposed to do? It's just IVF with Cecilia—we're not even doing anything. Why are you making this a divorce thing?" Leah shut her eyes. Her chest cracked open, and the tears she'd been holding finally broke free. "Ian, we're MARRIED. You seriously don't think this is next-level insane?" Her husband was about to have a baby with someone else. But sure—she was the crazy one.

When an unexpected attack headed by Seraphine Wildfrost's best friend resulted to her mate's death and the destruction of Silvercrest Pack, Seraphine was left utterly devastated. Overwhelmed by the betrayal, hatred, grief and loss of her other half, she was driven to her own demise. But when she awoke, it wasn't the afterlife she saw. The Moon Goddess offered her a chance to alter the future events, to prevent the destruction caused by Maximus' dangerous obsession with her. The only rule she must remember is to never let anyone know she's from the future, or things might get worse if the knowledge fell into the wrong hands. Seraphine set out to devise a plan, recalling the root of the future destruction and trying her best to alter it. It seemed easy at first. Yet, just like what happened most of the time, things didn't go as planned. How will Seraphine cope with the consequences of her decisions? How will she face the man who betrayed her from the future? And how could she have forgotten how utterly annoying her mate and future husband was when they first met, just because he was the perfect husband to her in her future? Seraphine soon realizes that a thorough plan didn't guarantee a smooth sailing.

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had just been wheeled out of surgery, only to be sent straight back into the ER. In a video newly posted by an intern, he was shown holding a scalpel and cutting my mother-in-law open, while the lead surgeon, who was my wife, was nowhere in sight. “Who says interns aren’t qualified to operate? No worries. My Dr. Lover dotes on me.” Colleagues flooded the comment section, saying the couple was sweet and that they were shipping them. I forwarded the video straight to the hospital director. Not long after, my wife called me. Her breath ragged and voice fragmented. “So I forgot your birthday. Is that reason enough for you to go to the director and accuse me of violating hospital rules? “I’m so done with your unreasonable behavior! Even if my mother sides with you this time, I’m still getting a divorce…” She hung up before I could respond. What she didn’t know was that her mother wouldn’t be taking my side anymore. Because the patient who went into massive postoperative hemorrhage and died during resuscitation, under the lead of an intern, was her mother.

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his cock—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he fucks my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but fuck, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and cum, red rooms equipped for flogging, bondage, edging, and total power exchange. Expect graphic, immersive scenes of throat-fucking, ass-pounding, breeding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

Today was supposed to be my marking ceremony. Instead, it became my funeral. Eliza had run me down with her car. She dragged my broken body into the storage room. "Stay here. When the ceremony is over, I'll let you out." She wanted to take my place, to be marked by Greyson, as his Luna. Greyson loved me. But his family could never allow their precious Alpha son to marry a lowborn Omega. "Millie," murmured, his voice thick with guilt. "I have to obey my family and give them an heir first -- with Eliza. You know... she's Alpha blood. "Once the pup turns one, I'll marry you." And I marked the days one by one, counting down to our forever. He claimed it was a mere duty, but but their feverish nights suggested she was his preferred addiction. A month later, Eliza was pregnant. Ten months after that, she bore the Alpha's heir. Another twelve agonizing months dragged by, and finally, it was the day he was supposed to claim me. But now, I was lying here on the floor, my body shattered. Greyson's voice cut through the phone, sharp and impatient. "Why aren't you here yet? Haven't you been desperate to marry me?" "I've let the pup's birthday incident slide -- are you still going to sulk about it?" "If you don't show up, I'll mark Eliza instead." I wasn’t coming, Greyson. I couldn’t -- I was already dead. But he believed I was simply having a tantrum.

"Mommy, Mommy! Look at that mister! Will I be as handsome as him when I grow up?" Liam's question forced me to look at where his finger pointed. "Holy f—" I cut myself off, trying not to curse in front of my son. Why, why, why did I have to run into Alexander Ravenford as soon as I walked out of the airport?! Among the millions of people living in New York, I surely didn't want to meet one—Liam's biological father. Five years ago, my scumbag of a boyfriend cheated on me, and I decided to go on a genuinely therapeutic weekend in the Bahamas. I wasn't looking for a rebound, but somehow I ended up spending a decent amount of time having sex with a man who was basically a stranger—a divinely hot, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously irresistible Alexander Ravenford. The morning after brought a disappointing hit in the gut, which assured me that for my Prince Charming, I was only a one-time adventure. But screw that, and screw him! I had plans. I was ready to pursue my dreams and study in London. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball... I was pregnant, and Alex was the only possible father. I didn't give up. I came back as a successful interior designer and the mother of an amazing boy, Liam. I thought that I would be able to avoid Alexander, but it turned out to be almost impossible. But then it got worse… The arrogant, annoying, and even hotter than before CEO of a multibillion-dollar company became friends with my son—his son! And I have a feeling that the sweet little devil who calls me "Mommy" has a mischievous plan to bring his parents together. Should I give this insane relationship a chance?