Lightskin Stare Dog Novels & Stories

Warning!!! Content may contain BDSM, violence,taboo romance,weird kinks and is rated 18+ “Strip. Now.” His voice was low, lethal. My breath caught. “Adrian…” “Don’t say my name,” he growled, eyes dark with fury. “You think you can walk around in that tiny dress, letting other men stare at what’s mine? Take it off. Every piece. I want you naked and trembling before me.” “I..I didn’t mean..” “You meant to disobey. And for that, I’ll teach you exactly what happens to bad little virgins who tempt their husbands.” His lips brushed my ear, hot and cruel. “Strip!!, Bambina (doll). Or I’ll do it myself.” *** Elena Carter had been untouched all her life—the hidden heiress raised in shadows, her father’s secret weapon. He promised her everything—his fortune, his empire—if she destroyed Adrian Blackthorne, the ruthless rival he claimed had murdered her mother. Adrian needed an innocent wife to clean his reputation. Elena needed to play the part of the sweet virgin bride to ruin him from the inside. But nothing prepared her for nights that blurred punishment and pleasure, or for the cruel twist of fate...her ex, the man who broke her heart, was Adrian’s nephew. Now he wants her back and both men are willing to tear their family apart for her. Who will Elena chose?. She thought she was in control. She didn’t know she was the one being destroyed.

Arabella's pleasant life becomes a life of pain in the space of one night. That man put her father in jail and rendered him on bankrupt. The man she hated the most. Maverick Julius. The richest billionaire from a mega-company that dominates trade throughout Europe. She's not sure what the man is hoping to get out of her. Bella realized that she was the object of the man's worst hatred. When they looked at one another, his eyes were so icy. He was certain that Bella should experience all of the pain. "I warn you. Obey every order I give you." He locked his gaze on me. His eyes showed seriousness. As if to say, 'Don't mess with someone like me!' That man was frightening. Don't want to be denied. Very dominant. Once Arabella lived with that man, she discovered a lot of secrets. A secret that Bella never knew existed in that man. What will Bella do? Can Bella conquer that man? "Strip," he gave me command. His hunter's eyes tell me not to refuse what he said. As the man got closer, I remained silent because my legs were too rigid to move. "W-what?" He taps his finger on my chin. Put it up. Forcing me to stare into his lust-filled eyes. "I said, strip! Don't make me punish you for disobeying my rules. You belong to me. Be submissive and you will get that pleasurable pain." Are you intrigued as to what became of them? Discover their entire narrative by reading the entire story!

At another Sunday dinner at the Bellandi estate, Luca Bellandi's assistant, Ava Marino, was sitting in my seat. It was the first chair to Luca's right at the long walnut table, the seat everyone in Chicago's underworld knew belonged to Mrs. Bellandi. Ava sat there as if she had been born into it, her pale wrist brushing Luca's sleeve while she poured his wine. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. "She's in my seat. You don't have anything to say?" Luca raised his eyes. "You were late. Don't blame someone else for sitting down first. There are empty chairs over there. Sit if you want. If not, get out." The dining room went dead quiet, and before I could answer, his thoughts slipped into my ears. [Vivi, don't go. Come sit beside me. Tell them it's your seat. Tell me you still want to be my wife.] [Please get mad. Please care. Say you need me, and I'll give you the whole world.] In the past, those soft, trembling thoughts would have been enough. I would've swallowed the insult and stayed beside him like a loyal dog that didn't know when to leave. This time, I didn't. I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and laid it on the table. "If the Bellandi family can't even keep a wife's seat for me, then I guess this family doesn't need a wife anymore. Luca, let's get divorced."

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

Since my favorite basketball player is hosting a meet-and-greet, I've ordered a VIP seat that comes with the benefit of interacting with the player in advance. When the time comes, I follow a staff member to my designated seat. I'm about to sit down when a man walks over and takes my seat instead. "This is where I can watch the meet-and-greet the best. I shall have this seat, then." I just stare at the man, completely speechless. "Sir, this is my seat. Please get off the chair." What I don't expect is for him to dig out a stack of cash before hurling it at me. "A peasant like you has no right to meet basketball stars! I'm buying this seat from you right now! Take the money and scram!" Seeing that I refuse to leave, the man continues haughtily, "I'm Wilbur Collins, the assistant of Jade Pearson, CEO of Pearson Group! Everyone in this city knows who the Pearsons are! Are you trying to push your luck here?" Jade Pearson? Isn't that the fiancee who my dad has betrothed to me? I pull out my phone and call her right away. "Hey, your assistant has snatched my seat from me in a basketball star's meet-and-greet session like the hooligan he is. You'd better give me a good explanation for this!"

The year I graduated from high school, my dad brought home a woman and a child with a rose on my mom's birthday. When the child offered my mom the rose, my mom gladly accepted it, only to end her life after spending her 39th birthday. … When I got married, I told my husband, Alistair Yates, that a rose was enough to end our marriage if he wanted a divorce. Then, he tried to reassure me that our house would not have anything related to roses. … Five years later, during one of the Yates Group's tender, one of our partners had a rose pinned to her chest. When he saw this, Alistair immediately kicked her out of the company and blacklisted her. That day, I realized that marriage could actually be blissful. Yet, six months after that, I completed my new drug research. The entire corridor was full of roses when I came out of the lab. The person who had been kicked out of the company? She was standing beside Alistair with a bright smile. I looked at him coldly, but he casually said, "Maria prepared all these for you. She's your sister and she wants to make amends with you." It took me two seconds to stare at Alistair before I turned to leave. What sister? I never had one. And from today, I no longer need a husband.

At the Hunting Festival, Cynthia Whitefang flashes a stack of cash and demands that my mate, Simon Fenwick, become her bodyguard. "Just accept it, Layla." Simon flashes his fangs and tells Cynthia to get lost in a rude tone. Our son, Noah Fenwick, who's chronically poisoned by silver, waves his fists angrily as well to chase Cynthia away. But I just stare at the stack of cash quietly. Memories of a conversation I had overheard last week surge into my mind at that moment. That time, Noah was tugging at the hem of Simon's shirt while standing under a tree. "Daddy, can I keep pretending to be poisoned? That way, Mommy will keep giving me money to treat my poison. I wanna buy gifts for Cynthia!" he said coquettishly. Simon had replied dotingly, "Of course! But you must remember to never tell Mommy that I'm not hurt. Only when she's filled with guilt will she love us forever." It turns out that my husband is faking his injury, while my son is faking being poisoned. They've played me like a fiddle the whole time. I, on the other hand, have to risk my life time and again to earn money just to treat their imaginary illness and wounds. To think that all of my earnings are used on pleasing another she-wolf… I raise my head, soon meeting Cynthia's confident gaze. "Okay. You can have him."

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

“I am betrothed to marry you…” Esmé mumbled, shivering from her shoulders down her spine. Maybe it was because her clothes were soaked from the rain or the cold stare that the man was grazing towards her—piercing, cold, and judging. "You’re sexy underneath those already-drenched clothes. I could understand if you wanted to tempt me. But you’re crazy enough to tell me you’re marrying me,” he said with a smirk. She never thought she’d be on her knees in front of any man, crying and begging for him to take her in. Left with no options but to beg for shelter at the hands of the most dangerous mafia in their city, Esmé lets go of shame and pride just to talk to the man who is promised to her. With no parents to support her claim that she is betrothed to the billionaire mafia praised by many, she only has her words which he labeled as lies. But Esmé won’t give up that easily, especially when she has dedicated her life to honor her parent’s words before they were assassinated. It was then that Esmé knew she had to stay alive to avenge her parent’s death. But nothing comes easy, especially when it’s a forced marriage to a man who doesn’t want her. By virtue of courage, trust, and seduction—Esmé will go to the depths of hell just so she’ll get his attention, devotion, love... and never let her go.

As I head to see my boyfriend, Howard Schultz, who is working late, I get into a car accident. I call him dozens of times for help, but he doesn't answer a single one. Staring at his brightly lit office building not far away, I sink into despair. When I wake up in the hospital, I see a post from his subordinate. It's a picture showing the reflection of the two of them in the glass door, standing far closer than they should, with the caption, "What do I do when my boss is scolding me late at night?" Unwilling to believe it, I call him again. This time, he finally answers. My voice trembles. "Howard, I got into a car accident…" "Celine, I'm still working. I'll send my assistant to take care of it, okay? Be good. I'll see you after I come back from my business trip." I try to say more, but his angry shout suddenly cuts through the line. "Crystal Jennings! You're only allowed to bring one suitcase for this trip. Why do you have three? Do you think we're going on vacation?" Crystal Jennings—the new intern Howard just hired. I stare at the disconnected call, tears drying on my cheeks. I then call my parents instead. "I agree to the engagement you arranged."