Nick Austin Instagram Novels & Stories

With him she is wild; and with her, he is tamed. Roxette Bennett wanted revenge. What she found was passion, obsession, danger... and a love that could destroy them both. She fell first but he fell hard. “Do you like this, baby?” he whispers, brushing his thumb across my hardened nipple, dragging circles over my stomach as my body melts. I bit down on my lip, and a small whimper escapes, feeling a burning sting at the center between my legs. “Oh no Baby, I love your beautiful moans but I will need your full permission. I can’t go further unless you say it,” he breathes, his possessive gaze locked on mine I swallowed. “Please, touch me” I breathe, feeling an aching need for this man. Then a dark growl, “How?” “Anyhow you want to, Daddy.” She’s young, curious, and just 22. He’s 39—intense and a very powerful man.She wanted control--until he took it. After her boyfriend is killed in a hit-and-run, Roxette Bennett is shattered—until she meets the driver, Sarah McLain, a powerful law professor living her best life without any guilt. Roxy wants revenge. She transfers to Gould University to destroy Sarah the only way she knows how—by seducing her cold, brilliant husband, billionaire attorney Aaron West. But Aaron is no pawn—he’s a storm. And once Roxy steps into his world, she can’t escape. Every kiss is a lie. Every touch, a betrayal. And every moment with him pulls her deeper into the fire. And yet, neither of them can walk away. Then there's Nick—wealthy, kind, and everything Aaron isn’t. He offers her safety. Peace and a way out. But when a devastating secret about her late boyfriend and an unexpected pregnancy surface, Roxy must choose: Revenge,love or freedom?

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Sequel to "Forced Marriage With CEO." The story revolves around Aaron Black, the son of Myra and Austin Black. The heartless, rude, and arrogant CEO of the Black empire was forced to marry a sweet girl. He loves only his family. "Who is he?" A man in his mid-fifties asked the bride, who was trembling at her place. "Aaron," She retorted. Aaron was surprised at how she knew him. "How could you do this, Elaina? On your wedding day, you are running away with this guy?" The man shouted angrily. "Dad, I love him." "What the fuck?" Aaron screamed. "I don't know her; who are you fucking bitch?" Aaron shouted. "I just met you fifteen minutes ago; how could you say that?" "Shut up, young man." "Call your parents," The man roared angrily. "Hey, Mom, I'm stuck in a problem. I need... ," He tried to explain but the man snatched his phone. "Hello, I'm Subhash Malhotra; your son tried to take away my daughter on the day of her wedding," Mr. Malhotra said with a sigh. When Myra came, the man explained her what happened here. "What do you want us to do?" Myra asked. "My reputation is at stake. I want your son to get married to my daughter now," Mr. Malhotra said firmly. "What the fuck," Aaron roared and shouted, "Mom, you know me. I didn't do anything. She is trapping me." "Aaron... marry her," Myra's words broke him completely. "Mom..." He shouted from the depth of his lungs. Myra closed her eyes, and silent tears escaped from her eyes. During the wedding rituals, when her hand was given to his, he whispered, squeezing it roughly, " You are going to regret messing up with the great AARON BLACK." She whined in pain and thought, "I won't."

Ariel Marie Morrison is 18 years old. When she was just 10, she lost her parents in a tragic plane crash. They were on a business trip to New York when their flight, the first to hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, claimed the lives of her parents and 158 other passengers. Afterward, Ariel was taken in by her Uncle Steve, her father’s twin brother, and Aunt Diane, her mother’s best friend. Ariel had always dreamed of attending Harvard University, just like her parents, who often spoke fondly of their time there. Determined to follow in their footsteps, she earned a full scholarship to study English Literature. On her first day on campus, dressed in her best outfit and wearing her mother’s pearls, she crossed paths with the infamous Knight Brothers and their crew—an encounter she would soon wish had never happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “Watch where you’re going, nerd!” came a deep, mocking voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, watch it,” another chimed in. “Umm… excuse me?” she replied, disbelief in her tone. Laughter erupted around her as she felt dizzy and her throat tightened—panic setting in. Needing to escape, she quickly walked away, though she could feel three pairs of eyes on her. Austin, 18, Dustin, 19, and Justin, 20—the Knight Brothers—were the quintessential All-American golden boys: football stars, wealthy, arrogant, and adored by many. Every girl wanted them, and every guy wanted to be them. But when they set their sights on the sweet, shy, and innocent Ariel, they began treating her like property, possessive and controlling, even though she had never wronged them. The teasing, bullying, and name-calling began. Would Ariel stay quiet and play the part of the “good little nerd,” or would she find the courage to stand up to the Knights?

On graduation day, I caught Julian—the boy who had been my shadow for twelve years—pinning another woman against the wall, kissing her hard. His hand smacked her ass before he scooped her up and carried her into the hotel. When my call interrupted him, he just hung up impatiently and texted back: "Aria, stop playing the fragile little girl with your panic attacks. I'm not your babysitter anymore." "I'm the next in line for the Valerius family. I have real business to handle. I don't have the energy to be your nanny." Then, he coldly sent me a link to some newly developed AI personal assistant app. "If you're that lonely, go chat with the AI. It's way more useful than you clinging to me every day." I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face. A suffocating wave of heartbreak and loss swallowed me whole. My parents died saving his parents—the current Don and Donna of the Valerius Family. We grew up together. He took care of me for twelve years. I always thought he loved me. I even thought we'd get married one day. But now, I was just a burden. An annoyance. Watching his back disappear into the hotel lobby, I numbly downloaded the app. "What color should I wear to the graduation party?" "Burgundy. It complements your pale skin and hugs your curves perfectly." "I want to change up my jewelry too..." "You have beautiful collarbones. You don't need anything complicated. A minimalist platinum necklace would be perfect." "Where should I go for my solo graduation trip?" "Your private account shows a love for the Mediterranean. Go to the Amalfi Coast. The sun will look good on you." "Okay. I'll listen to you." Wait. Something was wrong. Why would an AI app know about my secret Instagram account?

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."