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Right before my wedding, my fiancé, Benjamin Gray, holds another wedding at an old settlement with his true love, who has lung cancer. He holds Jennifer Robinson close and smiles tenderly at her underneath the starry sky. "According to the local customs here, the woman whose wedding is held first is considered a man's actual wife. I might have already registered my marriage with Samantha, but she's more like my mistress." Everyone cheers and blesses them as they toast each other and enter their room for the night. I witness all of this, but I don't cry or kick up a fuss. Instead, I make an appointment for an abortion. I've loved Benjamin for 15 years, but I still can't compare to Jennifer, who is my stepsister. If that's the case, I'll let him go. Later, I join a geological exploration and research team in the South Isles and am cut off from the world. All I leave behind is a divorce agreement and a divorce gift. Benjamin has never cared for me, so it's odd that he loses his mind overnight after my departure.

On the third day of my son, Zeke Murphy's disappearance, I've hacked into the smart AI system belonging to the entire apartment block. All 202 families in this block are locked up in their respective homes thanks to my ministrations. After that, I leave my first text message in the residents' group chat. "My son, Zeke Murphy, is in this very building. From now on, I will expose a family's secret every hour. If I can't find Zeke, all of you will go to hell with me." A CEO of a company with tens of millions of dollars' worth of assets is quick to lash out at me angrily in the group chat. "Have you gone nuts? Your son's disappearance has nothing to do with us! I order you to stop what you're doing immediately!" I type out my second text and attach a screenshot of an encrypted financial statement. "@1502Mr.Cooper, you have 59 minutes left. Here's a friendly reminder to check your overseas bank account. I'd like to see if the tax department is interested in its contents." I know that Zeke is currently staring at a resident on this very block right now.

"After hiding from me for three years, I've finally found you," I say to her, my eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I wasn't hiding. I was simply living my life without you," she scoffs at me, crossing her arms. "It doesn't matter anyway, because here you are now. You look beautiful." "Mr Partridge, I'd appreciate it if we kept things between us strictly professional." There she goes again, calling me by my last name, which was once her own. "We're not working right now. Let's just talk." "Mr Partridge, have a good evening." As she walks away, I'm so captivated by her confidence that I only stand in place and watch her the entire time. I see no trace of the vulnerable woman who was once my wife. Not only is she bold and beautiful, but she hates me. ~~~ Three months after her miscarriage, Layla is served divorce papers by her billionaire husband, Nathan. He wants her to leave because he's reconnected with the girl of his dreams. This leaves Layla shattered and no amount of begging can make him change his mind. Though she starts from scratch in a new town, they meet again three years later. He's now her new boss and this time, he's desperate to win her back With only a thirst for revenge in her heart and a new man in her life who's also a billionaire, is there even the slightest possibility of Nathan getting a second chance to make things right with her? Or is he too late and will live the rest of his life wishing he should've cherished her?

Alpha Kai's Son. My father's shadow still dominates the BloodCrest Pack I'm trying to lead; even becoming Alpha didn't change a damn thing. So I take my anger out on any poor bastard put in the steel ring with me. It calms me, but only for a few hours; because blood-red rage follows me everywhere I go. It follows me into the cage the night I'm pitted against an opponent half my size. An opponent with a bigger chest than your average gym buff. A woman... I think I'm doing the right thing by refusing the fight because I know this woman will meet Death at my hands. That is, until my wolf growls the word I never expected to hear in the middle of a fight. MATE. With a name as sweet as her scent and a right hook to match, I know I can't accept Cherie as my mate. Not with the beast I inherited from my tainted bloodline - a Lycan with a thirst for blood… So do I reject sweet Cherie to protect her, or do I indulge in the whims of my beast and claim her? * Cherie I didn't expect to meet my mate when I decided to step into that ring that night. But the second my wolf recognized its mate, I knew it wouldn't be over. Creed Volkov is every bit as terrifying as they say, but I won't allow myself to be bullied by another man. I've come here to win; I NEED to win in order to protect those close to me. Running away from Creed seems like the logical choice, I find myself in that ring with him again. Why can't I bring myself to say the Rejection Vow? And why am I suddenly having dreams about a red-haired woman?

🔥 Dark Sex Confessions 🔥 A sinful collection of taboo, dominant, and dangerously hot stories. Warning: 18+ only. --- “Is this what you wore to distract me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers trailing up my inner thigh beneath the flimsy excuse of a skirt. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked into my office dressed like that.” I bit my lip, heart racing. “Maybe I just needed some... extra attention.” His chuckle was dark. Dangerous. Desperate. He pushed everything off his desk with one sweep, pulling me forward so my legs dangled open in front of him. “You’re about to learn your most important lesson,” he said, sinking to his knees between my thighs. “How to beg properly.” His mouth met my soaked panties, tongue pressing through the thin fabric until I gasped, arching against his face. He groaned like a man starved, ripping them aside and licking into me with a hunger that made me cry out. “God, you’re so wet for your professor,” he growled between licks. “Dripping for the man grading your papers.” My fingers tangled in his hair as he sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue lashing me like punishment and reward all at once. My thighs shook, heat building fast and deep. “Come for me, right here, right now,” he ordered. “And then I’m bending you over this desk and fucking every A+ out of that tight little body.” And I did. Exploding on his tongue, moaning his name like a filthy prayer— Knowing this was just the beginning of the most sinful semester of my life.

Devin King was my first—well, everything. They say you never forget your first. Whoever said that was right because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head or my heart. I foolishly thought my heart wouldn’t miss what it couldn’t see, but I was wrong because I never forgot, not for one moment. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. You’re not supposed to give your virginities to one another, either—but we did. We were kids, teenagers, full of hormones and mixed emotions, but it felt right. He was the first boy to kiss me, the first boy to touch me and taste me in a way only a lover would. “Say you want to be mine….” He whispered while I shook in his arms. And I did. And then he wrecked me. After I trusted him and gave myself to him, he disappeared, left me in my , the scent of him still lingering on my skin, the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips. He left me after the amazing night we shared after we became one another’s and disappeared without a word. Until one day ten years later he pops up like a rash as the newly appointed CEO of our firm. Was I shocked to see him standing in the office after a decade? Yes. Did I almost faint? Hell yes. My heart may have melted a little when he smiled right at me, but he wouldn’t ever know that—because I hated him. But here I am, the VP of an established publication firm standing in the CEO’s office handcuffed to the pompous face. Why are we handcuffed you ask? Well, that's a funny story...

When my husband, Austin Hart, and I participated in the earthquake disaster relief, he discovered the corpse of his first love, Stacy Deleon, in the collapse zone. That night, Austin left a suicide note behind before jumping off the building with our son, Clifford Hart, in order to reunite with Stacy in the afterlife. Only then did I realize that both Austin and Clifford never cared about me, to begin with. When I was reborn, I returned to the moment when Austin first asked for a divorce. This time, I agreed to the divorce immediately. I even gave the custody of the three-year-old Clifford to Austin right away. Five years later, we meet again at an auction. Austin laces fingers with Stacy while taking Clifford's hand with the other. He mocks me, "It's only been five years, Kendra. You're really that shameless now, huh? You can't wait to latch onto me again now that you've found out I'm here!" Clifford mocks me as well. "Mom… Wait, you should be Ms. Powell to me now. You should stop pestering my dad already. My parents and I are living a very happy life right now." I just ignore them. Instead, I grab my daughter, Faye Gilmore, who has been sneaking food off the table, and steer her back to our seats. But Austin flies into a fit of rage instantly. A vein pops out of his hand, which is still laced with Stacy's fingers. "You really are shameless, Kendra Powell! We've only been separated for five years, yet you already have a daughter that old? I can't believe you're willing to resort to such despicable methods just to make me jealous! Which bastard did you have that bastard child with, huh?"

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to graduate top of my class, get into the best law firm, and make my brother proud. What I’m not here for? Sharing an apartment with Cade freaking West. My brother’s best friend. Tattooed, cocky, insufferable. A walking red flag on skates with a motorcycle named Roxie and a different girl in his bed every night. We don’t get along. We never have—especially not after what happened. He hates me for it. I don’t regret it. I was right. But the longer we’re forced to live under the same roof, the harder it gets to ignore the heat. The tension. The way he looks at me like he’s two seconds from ruining my entire life.

After finishing work for the day, I checked my phone and realized I had been added to a group chat called "Catch the Thief." The members were my parents, my brother, Brian Wise, and my sister-in-law, Paulene Wise. I typed a question mark. Paulene replied instantly. [My jewelry is missing. I didn't add you here to accuse you or anything. I just wanted to ask what you think. Honestly, there's no use for other people in our family to take my jewelry, so I've been wondering... I'm not saying you definitely stole it. But if you did, you don't have to deny it. I'm willing to give you a chance to make things right.] My mother said nothing. She just kept tagging me over and over. I let out a small laugh and typed back. [Maybe Brian took it and gave it to his side piece. I'm not saying he definitely has someone else. Just that men his age sometimes start looking around. I'm only guessing here. And if he really did mess up, you could give him a chance to make things right, too.]