Mother Looking At Me

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

I used to be the beloved little princess of the Colobo family. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, my father brought home Sophia. She was the daughter of the old friend who had once saved his life. Out of guilt, he gave her a place in our home. Then he gave her my place too. My brother began protecting her and hating me. My childhood friend, Luca Rizzo, fell for her and left me behind. Even my father said Sophia deserved the Colobo name more than I did, though I was his biological daughter. On the day I graduated from college, they broke their promise to me for the ninety-ninth time because of her. I finally lost control. “Am I not your own daughter?” My father pulled Sophia behind him as if I were the danger, then slapped me across the face. “You jealous little thing. I should have given everything to her instead.” My brother looked at me like I was something dirty. “You don’t deserve a place in the Colobo family. Get out.” So I left. They thought I was only throwing another tantrum. They took Sophia to Switzerland to see the snow-covered mountains, certain that silence would teach me to behave. They thought I would calm down, come home, and beg for my place again. But this time, I called the research institute in Australia whose offer I had once turned down for them. “I accept,” I said. By the time the Colobo family realized I was truly gone, my phone number no longer existed. And so did Isabella Colobo.

My mother has volunteered at our neighborhood church for over a decade. Christmas drives, Sunday service, any neighbor in trouble, she's the first one there. Everyone says God sent her to us. She thinks so too. She says God wants her to be generous, so she is. The thing is, when no one's watching, the generosity always comes out of my pocket. After she remarried, she doted on my half-sister Serena. Serena picked up a box of cold medicine for her, and Mom handed Serena the keys to my Tesla. Serena mentioned she needed to renew her car insurance, and Mom wired her the surgery fund I'd been saving for two years for my daughter Emma. That afternoon, Emma collapsed on the floor, lips turning blue, gasping for air. Her medicine was crushed into the carpet. Mom fished the last pill out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. "Apologize to your sister, and I'll give Emma the pill." I got on my knees. But that same day, she gave away the cardiology appointment I'd spent three months getting. She gave it to Serena. What she didn't know was that the name on the appointment was her own.

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

All I ever wanted was to get off this damned territory and escape my abusive family. On top of that, I would have done anything to be free from him, but his icy eyes aren’t the only thing that would hold me captive. Being in love with a high-ranked soldier is already tortuous enough, but as soon as I sign the contract he is offering me, I will be officially his possession. And officially screwed. ⚠️ TW: explicit and foul language, steamy and explicit sex scenes, abuse, violence, SA ⚠️

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

Please,  help me just this once." Jasmine panted with lust filled eyes. "Jazz, you're not thinking straight." Aaron replied even though he was fighting hard not to lose control. "Take a cold shower or something,  it'll help you feel better,  I promise." "No!"Jasmine argued, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in her hand. "It won't help,  trust me I've tried." "Yeah but..." "Aaron please! I need you, can't you see that? Or do you really hate me that much that you can't stand the thought of touching me?" They hated each other alright, that much was certain. But seeing Jasmine trapped in the heat of her own passion had Aaron's body reacting in ways that he could neither explain nor control, and also in ways that had him wondering if it was alright to suspend their feud for just one night. "You know what? Fuck it!" Aaron declared at last, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. "We can go back to hating each other tomorrow, but tonight, I'm going to make love to you like no one ever has."

I am having a heart attack when Scott Lakin locks me inside the car. It's because my pain is frightening his childhood sweetheart. In response to my desperate pleas for help, he merely utters coldly, "I'll let you out when you apologize." I go into shock and have to be rushed to the hospital. I call Scott a dozen times, but he just blocks me. Finally, after I get discharged, I see him carefully feeding his childhood sweetheart chicken soup. "Have some food, darling. What if the baby in your belly is hungry?" After that, I return to my hometown without saying a word and stay there for half a month. After blocking me everywhere except the music streaming platform, Scott suddenly starts frantically searching for me. "Jennie, why didn't you add me back on Facebook this time?"

WARNING: //MATURE CONTENT. CONTAINS STEAMY, EROTIC AND EXPLICIT SEXUAL THEMES INTENDED FOR ADULT AUDIENCE (18+). READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. . "Spread your legs for me, sunshine." He ordered and I immediately obliged, my dripping cunt arched to meet his thrusting fingers. "After today," he groaned, placing his dick at the entrance of my cunt. "I don't want anyone fucking you. Only I am allowed to fuck you Nevaeh." "Your body, your pussy belongs to me and no one else. Do you understand?" He said and thrusted deeper into my wet cunt. *** Twenty-two years Nevaeh gets herself caught up in a lifetime sex encounter, when she accidentally bargains to give her professor, who happens to be her best-friend's father, a blow job in exchange for her grades. Since then, she is hooked and can’t stop thinking about the man that made her cum in her pants just by watching him groan in pleasure under her touch. Anthony Martinez, a substitute professor, billionaire and perfect description of a sex symbol, who suffers from a medical condition where he can’t feel the touch of people, for the first time experiences all these feelings come alive when Nevaeh touches him for the first time. Now, he wants her. He needs her desperately and will do everything to keep her hands closer to him even if it means damming the consequences and going down the path of the forbidden to make her his exclusive plaything.

"I want you to be mine." Davon purrs into my ear while his hand snakes up to my neck. "I want to be yours, too..." "Good. Then I shall fuck you till you forget your own name, little flower." His hand tightens against my throat.