No Talk Me Angy Novels & Stories

I shook my head as a dark chuckle escaped my lips. “I’m not her, Dimitri, can’t you see it? I will never be her,” My voice shook as I spoke, tears threatening to spill. Dimitri ran his fingers through his hair in distress. His usual cold demeanor slipping away as he walked towards me and grabbed me by my shoulder. I felt his fingers on my chin, forcing me to look at him. I swallowed. “You don’t understand, Dimitri,” My voice came out as a whisper. “You are in love with that woman. Not me. It has-it has never been me,” “I know who I want, Val and that person is you,” *** For years, Valeria Moore had lived her life as a substitute lover to Dimitri. She believed one day, he would see her for who she is and not as his lost mate who had the same face as her. But when Dimitri announced his engagement to Summer Wood, Val knew she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to cut all ties with him but now, Dimitri wasn’t ready to let her go. Not when he just realized she was pregnant for him.

I had no choice but to become the partner of a mafia boss with an incubus bloodline when his heat cycle began. To my surprise, Lionel Andrus and I got along better than I ever imagined. Every night, he held me close, craving more of me, as if we were made for each other. But right before we got our marriage license, my jealous sister, Tracy Rowe, tried to talk me out of it. "Incubi are born flirts," she warned. "How do you know you're his only woman? Once he's bored, he'll toss you aside." In my last life, I had believed her. I called off my engagement with Lionel and, through her introduction, married a "nice guy" named Jamie Stephenson. After we married, Jamie cheated on me and gave me STDs. Desperate, I went to Tracy's house to ask for help. She turned me away with disgust. "You couldn't control your husband and ended up sick, and you actually came asking me for money? How dare you! You have no self-respect. You don't deserve to be my sister!" Right then, she publicly cut ties with me. Even our parents sided with her, calling me a disgrace and refusing to let me step inside the house. In the end, I couldn't take the pain anymore and ended up hanging myself. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Tracy told me not to marry Lionel.

Moana Queens has two rules: stay on top, and never become my mother. I'm the most brilliant girl in school, a cheerleader with a sharp tongue and sharper ambition. I've spent my whole life watching my mother fall for the wrong men who fuck and leave. I refuse to be that girl. But then there's Dylan Dickson. He's arrogant, cocky and a fucking playboy who doesn't screw the same girl twice. He's also my academic rival, infuriatingly brilliant, and so goddamn sexy I can barely think straight when he's near. I hate everything he represents. I want him with a hunger that keeps me awake at night. And that terrifies me. Then fate delivers the cruelest blow: Dylan is my new stepbrother. Now we're living under the same roof, and the air between us is electric. I catch him shirtless, water dripping down that perfect body. He watches me like he wants to devour me, his voice a dark promise when he warns, "Don't start what you can't finish." Every accidental touch burns. Every heated glance makes me ache. I wouldn't do anything to sabotage my mother's relationship, seeing her finally happy and stable. Dylan doesn't believe in love, his mother's betrayal destroyed that years ago and he doesn't do commitment. But denying what's between us is torture. The want is primal…. The need is consuming…. And fighting it is slowly tearing me apart. One taste and I'll be ruined One touch and there's no coming back, The stakes have never been higher, but how much longer can I pretend I don't want to fuck him senseless.

“Does your husband know you’re taking my cock and moaning my name like a good bad girl? Does he know?” My toes curled as his deep octave dropped sensation into my body, p**sy dripping with every thrust he made deeper into my c*unt. My back arched off the bed, and my lips parted… body trembling as every thrust moved me closer to my orgasm. * I didn’t mean to fuck him, but I did. And one night of reckless pleasure suddenly turned into reality. It should have been nothing but a nightmare… but what happened when that nightmare came back as your nemesis, taking and claiming you in every corner… right where your husband could hear you? I should not want him. I should not like the way his lips part my legs open. I should not like the way his tongue moved against my skin, or the way he parted me open and ruined me till I’m nothing but a trembling mess… but I did. Because he made sure I realized how helpless every inch of my body longed for him. This is not your road to salvation. This is your way to damnation. And here… we offer smut and plot, so join me as I drip, wipe, and smirk. Thank you.

After an earthquake, my boyfriend chooses to save a manipulative woman who's closest to the door. I'm pinned to the floor by a cupboard, but he forgets all about me. I pass out from the pain. When I wake up, I discover that my right hand is now useless. My boyfriend apologizes to me. He tells me he was only thinking about saving a life. Later, my boyfriend is diagnosed with a terminal illness. I'm the only person in the world who can save him. He weeps and begs me for help, but I can't hold a scalpel anymore.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

“I, Riccardo Saviano, future Alpha of the Grey Shadow Moon Pack, reject you, Artemisia Guerrieri, Daughter of Alpha Franco of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate and future Luna.” One single sentence. One stupid single sentence was all it took to disintegrate my life. And the day of my birthday, on which this sentence was audaciously uttered to me, I lost the love of my life, my future mate, and my wolf, all at once. As I’m still assembling the pieces of my shattered heart years later, there they come. Like lightning out of a crystal blue sky. My Mates. But wait… If I am mated to triplets, how come I’m about to be mated to 5 gorgeous men? *** TW: explicit and foul language; spicy content; explicit sex scenes *** Book 1 : When They Touch Me - Completed Book 2 : Their Burning Touch on my Skin (Sequel) - Ongoing

I had one rule for my night of freedom: no names. I broke it with a single word. “Daddy.” Now the man who owned me in the dark sits across from my brother at a peace meeting. He’s not a stranger. He’s Alessio Volkov, my family’s deadliest enemy. Ever since then, he remembered every sound I made.

My four-year-old son dies after someone crashes into him with a motorcycle. The culprit is a college freshman who's just been admitted. I'm devastated, but my husband generously forgives her. "We have to give her a chance since she's such an outstanding student. She's still young—we can't ruin her future." Ha. She has plenty of opportunities and a bright future ahead of her. What about my son? He was only four. Later, I rip his letter of forgiveness to pieces before his face. He wants me to forgive the young lady? No way in hell!