Leaned

"We shouldn't be doing this..." Jasmine said, a little breathless as she looked up to Zane's alluring gray eyes. He looked down at her, then leaned forward, so his lips slightly touched hers. "Oh, we should. You belong with me." Alpha Zane Atlantis needs his mate and his wolf back, and he finds both in the human girl, Jasmine Carter. But Jasmine is closely held to Vampire Prince Andrew Jones, who, in order to stop Alpha Zane from mating her due to the long standing enmity between the two, will turn her once she clocks eighteen in a few months. All is fair in love and war, especially between supernaturals, and she finds herself between two of them, each wanting to possess all of her.

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

“Until yesterday, you hated my guts…” I forced out as Moore leaned in. The sturdy man grinned and undressed me with his eyes, “Because until yesterday, you were just a scrawny psychologist who wouldn’t stop blabbering, now, you’re my wife,” ————————- After she is disowned by her family, Amber lands her dream job as a psychologist but things take a drastic turn when she realizes that her job is to marry and stop Alexander Moore — A grumpy bitter billionaire grieving over the loss of his wife from following in her footsteps… She’s used to the drama, the strain, it’s her job, but she’s not ready to fall in love with a man who is all shades of red flags, but it’s a good thing she LOVES the color red

Eventually, Asher stopped singing when he saw the woman standing in front of him, and the band stopped playing as well. He thought it was just one of his admirers or fans. He glanced at the crushed woman who was unable to stand. He wore a casual black shirt and pants, his hair was long, his skin was white, and surprisingly one basic. He even leaned in closer to her before speaking. "Hello ! I know you, those face-cheating ladies! Haya said aloud. "What?" Asher asked in shock. "You attractive men always harbor false desires for women, later on time they have passionate feelings for you, you will go! You are so awesome! You dare!" Haya shouted angrily. "Come on Haya" Tora shouted, as he tried to grab Haya by the arm, but Haya went wild.

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I fuck. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my pussy ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your pussy soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my cock or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

In the electrifying world of Formula 1, Alex Dupont and Marco Bianchi are more than just fierce rivals; they're each other's obsession. As they race towards the championship, their secret passion off-track intensifies, threatening to unravel their careers. When a devastating crash brings their hidden feelings to the forefront, they must decide if their love is worth the ultimate risk. "You know, I can't stand how you're always pushing me on the track," Alex said, frustration lacing her voice. Marco leaned in closer, his eyes locking with hers. "I can't help myself when l see you out there, Alex. You bring out the best- and sometimes the worst- in me." "Driven by Desire" is a captivating story of forbidden romance, high-speed rivalry, and the perilous balance between ambition and desire.

As we slowly danced he leaned on my shoulder and said "You are my rehabilitation ,a place I need the most " Alyssa and the billionaire centers around a 28 year old woman who is trying to get her life together after she loses her job . She's offered this new job by her best friend's husband that she finds so difficult to balance due to her difficult boss ,trey Benson ,23 years old ,juggling his father's company ,paranoid and impossible to please After one month of working with him Alyssa realises the billionaire is not what she thought he was and something was behind his cold exterior so she leans back to understand him more as they start to share common interests with eachother . Could these two opposite people come in terms and find their balance ?

He didn't stop when he reached her but leaned forward and kissed her hard, on the mouth. The air left her lungs. Maybe it was because it was her first kiss or because he had kissed her, she didn't know but her lungs were burning, her lips were on fire. She was one fire. It ended in a second. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back. His hand traced her forehead, nose, lips and then chin as it stopped on her throat. She knew, by God she knew he could feel her pulse, the heat on her cheeks. "I'm home." Dean Woodland left two years ago without a word or sound and now he is back to bring his belongings with him.

“I’ve been in hell for years, Bella. Trying to forget. Trying to do the right thing. Trying to be the man Victor thinks I am.” I stood up, closing the distance between us. “What if the right thing is being honest about what we both want?” He reached out, cupping my face with one large hand, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. The touch was gentle, completely at odds with the hunger in his eyes. “If I kiss you now,” he said hoarsely, “I won’t stop. I won’t be gentle. And I won’t be able to pretend anymore that you’re just Victor’s daughter.” “Good, I don’t want you to.” I leaned into his touch, my own hand coming up to cover his. “I don’t want you to pretend.”