Love Hate Me

Diya Wanda grew up in a convent since the day she was abandoned at the church entrance. She never let the abandonment put her down. She grew up to be a firm believer that there is goodness in the world. This was her weakness and downfall because when she went out into the world with the blessing of the nuns. She thought it would keep her safe. The world was not as she hoped, but she was a believer. This led her to Ace Torane. She fell in love hard, fast. Their love blinded Diya into believing her happily ever after would last forever. Until she witnessed his hidden horrifying side. She considered him unredeemable and fled than confront. With her long gone and his kept secret out, Ace's fury ignited because she left. She fled with something valuable enough to let him burn everything that was in his path, including Diya. ~WARNING. THIS BOOK CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND STRONG GRAPHIC CONTENT~

“Fuck me, Dante.” He was my uncle. Not by blood, but by name, by family, by everything that should’ve kept me safe from him. Instead, it made me his obsession. Dante Martinez—consigliere of the Italian mafia, the man who could dismantle empires with a single glance. One family dinner. One lingering gaze across the table. One move into his penthouse that became my undoing. He warned me not to test him. I ignored him. He promised he’d break me if I kept pushing. I pushed harder. Now I know what it means when a monster decides to love you—when his control snaps and you’re dragged into the darkness he rules. He says I’m his ruin. But Dante was never my salvation. He was always the sin I was born to crave.

“What anniversary are you celebrating, huh? Five years of barrenness?” he queried, “It’s just another year to celebrate how unfortunate I am to be with you.” “We’ve come this far, love, I’m sure having a child won’t be a problem,” I manage to say with a smile. “Oh please, I don't fertilize barren land. There's no point wasting my seed on infertile soil.” *** Five years of marriage went down the drain in one day. Cara can overlook everything despite being betrayed by her husband and taken for a fool. What she can't endure is them being the reason she lost her baby and her womb. Cara divorced him and went back to reclaim her rightful place as the wealthiest billionaire heiress in the country. Now, she's sworn to make everyone who hurt her pay. Except for the fact that her ex-husband has realized what a terrible mistake he made and wants her back. Will Cara take him back or will she kick him to the curb along with the others who hurt her?

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. "Say you're a slut." He said, watching her finger herself, absentmindedly stroking his dick. "I," she gasped, closing her eyes, but being thrilled at saying the words, "I am a slut.. oh, please fuck me." He turned her around, forcing her up onto her hands and knees. She felt him run his hands down her back, up her spread ass, and finally pull on her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She moaned and turned herself up for him, pushing her open cunt back onto him. He leaned forward and grabbed her braids, pulling her head back as he rammed his dick inside her hard. She cried out and tightened around his dick, "Oh god, yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard and dirty." She moaned out. "I'm a fucking slut. Hurt my pussy."

Sandra Lowry is renting out her property for a living. A lifetime investment she couldn't really afford. When her best friend/property agent told her they were bidding on a new prospect that could cover her next 5-year rent, she was excited. The client, a handsome actor with a tragic past who would be living in her compound for the next 6 months. With her own past tragedy, the two developed an instant friendship that was rare and found a connection beyond what they've ever had before. Unbeknownst to her that her past was on its way to catch up with her and prevent her from moving on.

Mortani Bartolome is a lovely, small, but cool woman. She doesn't care if it's a guy or a woman; if they collide on her road without a settlement, her fist will be the judge. Even her boyfriend's lover, Clyde Louis Contreras, CEO of a well-known corporation and grandson of a billionaire, is vulnerable to her toxic hands. Will her fist help her if she realizes she is destined to marry the person she despises the most? And this guy is none other than the man who became her ex-boyfriend's lover. Is there anything she can do to avert this disaster? Or will she fall in love with a Clyde Contreras instead of avoiding him?

“God—” “Not God,” he muttered against my neck, biting the skin there. “Me. Say my name.” “Dorian!” I cried, back arching. “That’s it.” He stroked faster, his thumb teasing over the tip, slicking me up. “Good boy. Take it.” Ezra Monroe was raised to be pure. The perfect choir boy. Twenty-two and untouched—soft voice and eyes that have never looked too long at sin. But one man ruins everything. Father Dorian Vale. The moment his eyes meet Ezra’s, something snaps. And a good boy learns how to kneel for the wrong man. He was supposed to guide him to heaven. Instead, he’s teaching him how to sin. He’s not here to save Ezra. He’s here to ruin him. Slowly. Until every prayer sounds like his name.

"You are not my wife, you can never be my wife do you understand me?" his eyes filled with hatred shot daggers at her. "You are an imposter, a nobody, a thieve. During your days in this house, I don't want to feel you close, don't ever look at me, don't ever talk to me. When you hear the sound of my footstep, you run far" "Now get out." Genesis an average girl with plans ahead, she forged to achieve those dreams of hers after graduation. But the news of her upcoming marriage to Jordan Chase, the son of the most influential man in the state shattered those dreams. Her dreams were used to pay the price for her sister's medical bill. What happens to Genesis when it hits her that she was a trophy wife? How will she fight for her marriage when her husband is a cold hearted demon who loves another? Can a girl live such lonely life? Or would she rather run away than face her husband? Will love blossom or will this be another failed marriage?

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn. ----------------------- "Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me." "Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare. "You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?" My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes." "Say it. I want to hear every word." "I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..." He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?" The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl. "So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."

He said I couldn’t do it, but he was wrong. An old professor at UCLA promised me that I would make nothing of myself, so I made sure I did. To the tune of billions. I’m only a little cocky about it. Yachts, parties, and one-night events pretty much spell out my life. And all of it works well until I run into a beauty I can’t get out of my head. But we’re keeping it friendly and casual until we aren’t. There’s just one problem. Her old man hates me. And for good reason. He was my UCLA professor. He’s dead set against me becoming anything important to his little girl, but the old man’s got it all backward. I’m not looking to make an example out of our passion or prove a point. This isn’t about hit it and quit it. His daughter is mine, and he might kick me out, but she’s letting me all the way in.