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Your Heart Or Your Duty

Your Heart Or Your Duty

Preshy writes
I perceived something exceedingly familiar. That was the scent of the alpha. He is somewhere close by. I can't let him see me in this situation with Stark. Of all the times that the alpha could be present, it just had to be when I'm in bed with Stark. I was just about to get the truth out of Stark about his identity but my obsessed alpha won't understand what is going on here. Want to know what happens in this book? You'll have to open up the book. I guarantee you will love it.
Romance
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I'm Not Your Property , Don Vincenzo

I'm Not Your Property , Don Vincenzo

"Hayden, you have been a bad boy have you not?" Vincenzo said to me as he unclasped his belt and drew it off his waist, his muscles flexing. "What do you mean-" "Turn around!" He demanded from me as he did so before I could do it. He wrapped the belt around my hands and tightened it. "Vincenzo?" I whisper yelled at him with a glare. "Get on your knees little prince and open your mouth for me. Daddy needs to punish you." "Why?" "Shut your mouth before I do it with my dick Hayden," he threatened me with an evil smirk. "You would not dare!" I snapped at him before letting out a gasp as he pulled his hardened cock out of his boxers, the cap of the monster pink and shiny with precum. "Oh little prince, I would dare," he said as he forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. "Good boy," he groaned as he slid his dick into my mouth, my wetness wrapping around his cock. "Ah, your mouth feels so good," he murmured. And then he began to move, his cock growing more inside of my mouth. ...... Hayden and Vincenzo clash in a battle of wits and strength. Though they are attracted just as much as they despise each other, they are drawn together in an intense and dangerous game. It takes two to tango. It takes two to play the dangerous game. And the winner takes all.
MM Romance
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Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore

Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.
LGBTQ+
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I Won’t Be Stand-In Anymore

I Won’t Be Stand-In Anymore

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."
Short Story · Romance
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I will not be your submissive!

I will not be your submissive!

Naulis Machado
Fernando Laureti is the black sheep of the family; a cheerful, cocky and seductive young man who is used to taking the women they like to his bed. His father, Demetrio Laureti, tired of his promiscuity, decides to put him in charge of the company he has in Paris, with the simple purpose of keeping them away from their women and BDSM, but it will not be easy, he meets Samantha Mercier, a strong-willed, beautiful and determined woman who will not make it easy, making the CEO obsessed with taking her to his bed and make her his submissive, an act that she will not give in, because she will scream in his face as many times as necessary: I will not be your submissive!
Romance
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Not My Mate, Not This Time

Not My Mate, Not This Time

When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate. Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King. Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore. Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore. I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate. In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King. But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and got her pregnant. Furious, the old Lycan King forced her to abort the pup and exiled her to another pack. From that moment on, Erik despised me. He started bringing home a different mistress every night. I was furious, helpless, and eventually, I died in the dead of winter. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back at eighteen, standing at the very moment I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I won't choose Erik. This time, I'll step aside and let him have his love with my sister. But why did Erik break down in tears when I chose someone else, begging me to come back?
Short Story · Werewolf
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I am not Your Love Story

I am not Your Love Story

Liam Smith, an orphan, has had a dream for years; to become a star of the ever famous Lotus Pond Entertainment company. However, when he meets the famous and attractive CEO of the company, notorious playboy, Kain Jones, things take an unexpected turn. Kain is unfriendly, rude and even rejects Liam’s wishes of joining the company! Kain is not at all what Liam had expected his childhood star to be like at all! Disappointed, but not put off, Liam refuses to give up on his dreams of becoming a star and vows to do anything to get that chance, including doing whatever Kain demands of him, but just how far is Liam willing to go? "Your fervent, misguided sense of entitlement is stunning," Kain snarls at me. His nose twitches in indignation before a slow, cruel smirk crawls over his lips. He mouths the word 'anything', repeating what I had just said before leaning in and taking my chin into his fingers, brushing my lips with his thumb as he says in a low growl, "why don't you show me...”
LGBTQ+
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Big Sis, You Don't Matter Anymore

Big Sis, You Don't Matter Anymore

On the tenth year of my marriage with Adrian Sutton as a replacement, my older sister, Vivian Cavendish, suddenly returns to our lives. The entire family just stares at her silently. Vivian yawns lazily before saying casually, "It's so exhausting, having visited 13 countries in a row. Where's Rowan? He should be studying in grade school by now, right? Why isn't he here to see me, his real mother?" Rowan Sutton is Vivian's actual son. In the past, after Vivian gave birth to Rowan, she faked her death on her wedding day, leaving her newborn and her fiance behind. The Sutton family comes from old money in the elite society. My parents dared not offend them at all, so they decided to force me, a college fresh graduate, to marry Adrian in Vivian's stead. Over the past decade, I've turned into a proper wife and a responsible mother. Upon seeing how righteous Vivian is acting, Mom and Dad turn to look at me. I just smile faintly at them instead. "Rowan and his father are on a vacation in another city right now."
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Mom, They Won't Mock You Anymore

Mom, They Won't Mock You Anymore

My mom is terrified of being laughed at by others the most. Whenever the holidays are here, she will keep repeating one sentence to me—"Don't go around embarrassing me." When my relatives gather around and chat with each other, I accidentally knock a fruit platter over. Mom drags me over and slaps me on the spot. At the holiday feast, I grab extra pieces of steak for myself. Mom responds by kicking my chair over. When it's time for the holiday gifts to be distributed, my aunt, Gabriella Hall, has miscalculated the number of children present among the family. So, she has prepared one less gift for the occasion. Mom doesn't hesitate to kick me out of the apartment, leaving me shivering in the cold corridor in just my indoor clothes. The icy winds chill me to the bone. I keep slamming my palms on the front door while screaming and crying my apologies at Mom, and yet she remains unmoved and silent. Instead, she turns to face Aunt Gabriella with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't raise my daughter well. It's only fair that you ridicule me." What Mom doesn't know is that I get triggered whenever I hear the word "ridicule" thanks to her so-called parenting lessons. Whenever I hear that word, I want nothing more than to hurt myself uncontrollably. So when I hear the word "ridicule" coming out of Mom's mouth through the front door, I turn on my heel quietly and begin making my way toward the bridge next to the neighborhood that's plunged into darkness. The moment I jump from the bridge, the only thought I have is, "Mom, no one will ridicule you because of me this time."
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I Won't Settle for Less Anymore

I Won't Settle for Less Anymore

On the night before Match Day, it's 2:17 am when I find myself staring at the screenshot on my phone. For a long while, my heart refuses to calm down at all. Ethan Blake: "Let's have a bet, guys. If Leah doesn't get a spot at Redwood General Hospital tomorrow, this will mark the end of our relationship. The starting bet is two thousand dollars. Is anyone following up on this bet?" Already, more than a dozen people have responded to the message with various emojis. Someone even comments, "Count me in!" I feel my nails digging into my palms. "The end of our relationship", he says. To think that Ethan actually used this phrase. We've been dating for four years. This is the very same man who once told me that he wanted to marry me. Is it this easy for him to end a relationship? I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. There are still other medical interns in the staff room with me. I mustn't lose my composure around them. I know that Ethan is waiting for me to react how I did in the previous times. I'd either spam his phone with missed calls, beg him to delete the message while crying, or apologize to him in an extremely humble manner. But now… Now, I'm really done with this relationship.
Short Story · Romance
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