Make Out Session Novelas e Histórias

Ethan Cross, an FBI agent, has been pursuing Dante Valensi, one of the nation's most influential and untouchable crime lords, for years. Dante has created an empire that law enforcement has never been able to destroy. He is cunning, ruthless, and feared by all. Ethan, however, is unique. He has been assigned the task of entering Dante's world as Luca Romano, moving up the ranks, and destroying him from within. It is almost impossible to get close to Dante. He doesn’t trust anyone and doesn’t allow anyone to be close to him, especially not romantically. However, in the role of Luca, Ethan excels at the game, gains Dante’s confidence, and becomes his right-hand man. He gets closer to his objective with each step. It becomes more difficult to keep in mind that this is only a mission every moment spent with Dante. Then everything changes one night. An overly persistent touch. The look says too much. A weakness that neither of them can undo. What little and dishonesty develops into something harmful that is unavoidable. It’s just part of the job, Ethan tells himself. Dante is an evil creature. that the worst thing he could ever do is fall in love with him. What occurs, though, when the lie begins to seem more plausible than reality? Ethan has to decide whether to finish his mission and bring down the man he was sent to destroy or to give in to the one person he was never supposed to love as secrets come to light, treachery looms, and blood is shed. Because there is only one way in with Dante Valenci. And no escape route.

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

Ariana Lubove and Spencer Ulrich have been married for three years. She doesn't hope to win his heart, but she thinks that she's at least special to him. To her devastation, he finds himself a mistress and treats her like she's his treasure. Ariana finally faces reality and gets a divorce. She turns to leave without another look back. Five years later, she shows up with a little boy by her side. Spencer looks at the boy and snorts. "You're a little bastard." The boy gives him an equally icy look. "And you're an old bastard." Five years is enough for Spencer to turn a new leaf and start with a clean slate. He's confident he can win Ariana's heart again. But why the hell does he have rivals in love all over the world?

I've loved Jonathan Pickle for half my life. I used my family's resources to help him attain success. However, in the third year of our marriage, he brought his mistress home to stomp all over my pride. That wasn't the worst of it—he even destroyed my family. … I open my eyes to see Jonathan in his university days. Unexpectedly, I'm not the only person who's been given a second chance at life.

She was about to share her wonderful news, but he beat her to it with a revelation of his own: “I think we should get a divorce.” In an instant, her entire world crumbled. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll divorce you.” --- Because she had used her family’s influence to force Parawee into a marriage he never wanted, he had spent three years merely enduring her. But now, Nicha—the woman he had always loved with all his heart—was back. “Let’s get a divorce.” He finally made his move to end it, expecting a clean break and a fresh start. --- Kajarin had been in love with Wee for as long as she could remember. She had begged her family to do whatever it took to make him hers, even though she knew his heart was already occupied. “I have some good news for you.” She had been ready to tell him, but his sudden demand for a divorce changed everything. Now, she had no choice but to bury her secret as deep as it would go. “Let’s head to the district office. I’ll give you the divorce you’ve been waiting for.” She was done. Truly, utterly done with it all. --- While driving his favorite yellow ride, Thamnithi was suddenly flagged down by a woman in a cream mini-dress. She looked like she was running from something, and moved by a sense of kindness, he decided to pick her up. But that one good deed was about to become a moment he would never forget for the rest of his life. “Damn it, Tham! What have you gotten yourself into?!”

After having dinner on the holiday eve, I'm about to distribute the gift cards to the younger generation of the family when my daughter, Lisa Mercer, speaks up. "Mom, we're not going to celebrate the holidays at home. You should pack up and go back to your own home too." Shock flashes across my face. "It's nighttime, and yet you want me to leave right now?" Lisa replies calmly, "I'm doing this for your own good. If you stay in my house on your own, you won't be able to defend yourself if anything in this house goes missing." I no longer question Lisa. Instead, I pack my own belongings and go back to my childhood home. One week later, when Lisa and the rest of the family comes back from their vacation, they are stunned, to say the least. After all, the house that they've lived in for the past eight years now has a new owner.

After spending five years in a marriage her parents disapproved of and her only right as a member of the Miller family taken away, Rosetta's life just started going downhill. She was always in the shadows since birth and she thought her only means of happiness was marrying the man whom she thought loved her, even though her parents refused the idea but her life wasn't any better. Her husband threw her into prison after being framed by his mistress for her miscarriage and being in prison toughened her up. Now she was back for revenge and no one would stop her.

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

On the night the family manor was set on fire, my husband Don Luciano Cacciola whisked Loretta Peri away. "Be a good girl and wait for me here, Tati. I'll send my men over to pick you up soon." As soon as he left, the explosions buried around the villa were set off instantly. That's when I sent Luciano one last text. "Luciano, we're even now." Rumors had it that Luciano had gone mad after that incident. As he gripped the burned ring, he purged the entire mafia family on his own. After that, he kneeled before my grave for three long days. When Luciano found out that there was a possibility of my surviving the explosion, he decided to give away half of his family fortune just so he could track me down. Three years later, Luciano stares at the woman, who's toying with a pistol, with red-rimmed eyes at the family's negotiation table. "Tati… Is that you?" I pull the trigger in response, causing a bullet to ricochet past Luciano's ear. "You got the wrong person, Mr. Cacciola. I'm here to take your life." As I watch Luciano kneel by my feet and press a kiss onto the tip of my high heel, I can't help but laugh. This time, it's my turn to choose.