Longing Poems

His thrusts quickened, and she didn't know when she began to pant, "Oh, God, Oh, God," Angel's voice was humour laced with arrogance as he said, "I doubt if he would approve." Boundaries are meant to be broken. Rules are made to be defied. And each character here is ready to shatter every expectation. This is a story of raw passion, insatiable hunger, and the delicious surrender to pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Name your price,” he said, that arrogant smirk still intact. “Do you want your job back?” I didn’t hesitate. “Make me a director. Only then will I pretend to be your loving girlfriend.” I thought he’d laugh. I didn’t expect him to say yes. “Deal,” he replied, his gaze locking on mine. “Just remember, Amaris Kennerly once you sign that contract, you belong to me.” ***** I’ve always wondered if I was cursed from birth because the kind of bad luck that haunts me feels almost supernatural. People call me a computer genius, but my real talent is something no one sees. They say I’m beautiful, yet I bury that behind oversized clothes and a mountain of insecurities. After dumping my cheating boyfriend, the only steady thing left in my life was my soul-sucking job until I lost that too. And the man responsible? Theron Lockhart.——My high school bully didn’t just return, he returned as the new CEO of my company. And his first executive move? Firing me and my entire department, like history repeating itself in the cruelest way. He didn’t recognize me, which should’ve felt like relief. But fate clearly wasn’t done toying with me. One moment, he was rescuing me from a run-in with my ex. The next, a rumor had spread: I was his girlfriend. And then the tables turned because Theron needed to avoid a scandal, and I was his best option.

After catching her fiancé buried between her sister’s thighs, Maria ran. Straight into the arms of the last man she should’ve fallen for—his father. ~~~~ MARIA: The future I imagined went to shit the night before my wedding. Being betrayed by those closest to me nearly fucked me up, leaving me broken and in need of an escape. When I fled, I did it with zero plans—nothing but rage in my heart and my suitcase in hand. But then fate threw me into Declan: older, dangerously compelling, but also equally scarred. He took me in when I was stranded—no questions asked. It was the last thing I expected, but he continued to care for me, keep me safe and... warm me up. In more ways than one. As days pass, ignoring the heat, chemistry, and.. persistent feelings between us becomes... tough. I feel his eyes on me all the time, and my heart rate triples without permission whenever I bump into him in the house. He clearly wants me. I want him too, but I can't allow it to happen. Because he's the father of the man I now despise the most in the world. DECLAN: I took her in because I wanted to help. Who am I kidding, it's more than that. I couldn't help myself. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she had my heart in a choke hold. And as the days went by, resisting her became the sweetest torture. It became like hell to keep my hands to myself, or my mind from imagining obscene things whenever I see her. But we’re not free to give into this. She’s only 23, and I’m... nearly twice her age. And what's worse, I'm the father of the man who broke her heart.

Kayla Stone has been married for two years, but somehow, she’s still a virgin. Her husband has never touched her. He humiliated her, controlled her, broke her; but just never took her body. So on one reckless night, desperate to feel truly wanted, a drunk Kayla surrenders her innocence to a stranger in a New York lounge. That stranger happens to be Gabriel Pearson. Her husband’s uncle. The same man who wrecked her heart eight years ago and disappeared to Italy. On the night the ruthless kingpin of the Italian mafia world returns to New York, he visits a lounge and runs into none other than his drunk niece in-law. Kayla Stone. The same woman he has deluded himself into thinking he has gotten over for the past eight years. That night, he makes an earth-shattering discovery when pushes inside her and meets the barrier her husband never claimed. His nephew’s wife was untouched, until him. How was that even possible? This night of passion which was supposed to be a mistake, steers something dark and possessive within Gabriel. Kayla wasn’t his to be claimed, but fuck the consequences.

"If you don't turn the fuck around and look at me, I'll pull the fucking trigger in my head." Reader Discretion Is Advised, this is not your average love story. The first 27 chapters will draw you in gently, revealing the cracks in Camilla's world, the men who twist her fate, and the fire she never knew she carried. But don’t mistake the slow burn for softness. She learns. She hardens. She rises. From there, things shift. Love turns darker. Desire gets sharper. Violence isn’t just background, it’s survival. And the romance? It’s messy, fierce, and utterly addictive. If you’re here for morally gray men, vulnerable but fiery heroines, and a plot that doesn’t hold back... welcome. This book will hurt you, heal you and leave you breathless.

The day my father dies, my boyfriend, Heath Summers, is accompanying his true love for her prenatal checkup. I lose hope in him and ask for a breakup, but he thinks I'm just being jealous. He says, "Naomi's already miscarried thrice—it hasn't been easy for her to conceive this child. Stop being unreasonable." I've been with him for seven years, but it turns out I can't compare to his childhood sweetheart.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."

You’re not supposed to want straight men. Carson Bitters wants nothing more than to feel his secretary inside him. He dreams of it every day. You’re not supposed to fall in love with them. They won’t love you back. But Carson can’t stop longing for Asher Hall; the man his homophobic father handpicked for him. A living, breathing, giant NO. And yet, every time Asher speaks, every glance, every careless brush of his hand, Carson finds himself wanting more. Needing more. And what starts as longing could destroy everything, or make it unforgettable.

Wandering in the wastelands of Earth, Sirius found himself suddenly in a different world. Longing for peace, he'll have to fight for the happiness he was deprived of until now...