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"So you admit to seducing me?" Elijah whispered against my neck. He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. His soft lips brushed against my neck, goosebumps began to coat my skin. I screwed my eyes shut and bit my lip. I sucked in a breath when his tongue touched my hot skin, slowly he caressed his tongue along my jawline then gently bit my earlobe. "Elijah." I moaned softly. "Yes." He responded in his deep soothing voice. "You're fiancé is outside." I replied, as I held his shoulders for balance. "She can wait." - 24-year-old Josephine, a carefree and creative woman who owns one of the best studios in New York. 27-year-old Elijah, stubborn but loving man. One of the best photographers in America engaged to a well known model. A secret affair occurs between them both as time passes they realise that they can't get enough of each other and there's a risk that one of them might catch feelings. Will they both come to the realization and end it or continue to fulfill their desires therefore the whole situation can be an endangerment to their careers?

I never meant to kiss him. It was a stupid mistake—a reckless moment fueled by too much adrenaline and the thrill of a party I should never have been at. But when my lips brushed against his, the world stopped. His hands gripped my waist, his breath tangled with mine, and for a fleeting second, I forgot who he was. Liam Blackwood. My stepbrother. The guy who had tormented me since the day our parents married. The brooding, tattooed bad boy with a reputation that made girls weak in the knees. I should have pulled away. I should have screamed. Instead, I let him deepen the kiss, let his touch set my skin on fire. Now, we’re trapped in a dangerous game of stolen glances, whispered threats, and undeniable chemistry. Every moment alone is a ticking bomb. Every brush of his fingers makes me crave something I can’t have. He’s forbidden. Off-limits. But the way he looks at me? The way he makes me feel? It’s only a matter of time before we cross the line again. And this time, there will be no turning back.

Claire met Sebastian on her wedding day. He is the older brother of her husband-to-be. Fate took its time to play with her when she felt a very huge attraction to the man on the very same day she was bound to be someone else’s wife. From the intense look he gives her to the way his lips curved up into a smirk, she can’t help but feel foreign sensations running down her body. Sensations she’s not allowed to feel for someone who’s going to be a family soon. Sebastian knew he needs saving when he felt a very strong urge to pull the bride and lean her on the altar and take her there senselessly. With her strawberry blonde hair curled to the side of her shoulder exposing her delicately creamy-white skin, thoughts of running his tongue there invaded his mind. Damn him to hell for thinking thoughts like that to the woman his brother was about to marry. But the heavens must be in his favor when things around weren’t what he expected it to be. This time he was determined to steal her from his brother, and no one can stop him. Not even fate.

She was moving closer in a suggestive manner, and it was obvious she was flirting. She asked, "What are you doing?" I replied, "Making you uncomfortable." It was clear that I was succeeding. I took a step back and asked, "What's happening? I just told you I hate you." "Yes, you did," she said, her fingers reaching out and grabbing my shirt, stopping me from backing away. "And that you want me, like I said when I arrived, even though you pretended you didn't hear me." "I'm confused," I responded. "It's simple," she replied, as she began unbuttoning my shirt. Her lips approached my ear and I could feel them on my skin as she whispered, "There are two things I want from a man. The first one is to be worshipped like a goddess." I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders and let her get to work on my belt as I went to work on her shorts. Pink panties. Bright pink. As pink as the thing inside them. "And the second one?" *** Read the filthy story between a teacher and his mischievous students as they attempt to entice him.

All I wanted was a one-night stand with some random guy, just to get back at my boyfriend, who had insulted me for never being able to feel anything for him. I had left Brooklyn with my best friend, Ashley, to spend spring break in Cabo. The deal was to have fun like a normal young adult and have a one-night stand with any guy, just to prove a point. I ended up in the bed of a man with the most mesmerizing eyes I’d ever seen—a man I knew nothing about. He pleased me in ways I didn’t think were possible. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper of his hands against my skin ignited a hunger I hadn’t realized I had. But when I woke up the next day, the stranger was gone. I thought it was just a one-night fling and that I'd never see him again—only to find out he was my new statistics professor. "Do… do you remember me?" I asked nervously in his office. He glanced at me with those beautiful, icy eyes and replied, "No, I don’t… Am I supposed to know you?"

In Black Salt, love is a sickness you can’t hide—a slow gnawing beneath the skin that leaves you hollowed, grayed, and eventually gone. No one stays long enough to see it through; they leave before the rot finishes its work. It’s what the town teaches you: when it starts, you run. You look away. You survive by pretending not to feel. But Atlas is tired of pretending. The halls of Black Salt High are full of kids pretending they don’t see each other’s bruised hearts, pretending their bones aren’t already whispering warnings. Still, he can’t forget the weight of a father who stayed—not out of love, but because he never felt it deep enough to decay. That truth lingers in Atlas like a second shadow. And then there’s Nova—the outsider with a storm in her bones. And Wren, all sharpness and fight. Milo, who cracks jokes to keep the silence at bay. Luce, who wears her thorns like jewelry. Together, they don’t know how to stop the rot. But they’re learning how to sit with it, how to name it, how to refuse the small, hollow deaths of pretending not to care. In a town where love is a death sentence, staying might be the bravest thing of all.

“You dare to think of another man in my presence?” The Alpha growled with a burning desire in his eyes. He glowered at Lavinia whose hands were tied. “What does that man have that I don’t? That filthy vampire, you think he’s going to save you?” His hands ran through her bare skin, sending shivers to her spine. “Please, leave me alone,” Lavinia begged in desperation. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Then be mine, Lavinia.” He leaned closer to her. His breath fanned her face. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.” Lavinia shook her head. She pursed her lips while watching the man in front of her. He may be a great man with power but her heart longed for someone else. “No. You’re not him… You’re not Sebastian.” "We had an unspoken deal: He gave me warmth, colors, and lies. In return, he asked for my blood when he's thirsty, my body when he's cold and my heart when he's bored. The funny part is, I still think it's quite a bargain." - Lavinia de Llava

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."

In my last life, I made the dumbest mistake—picked up a Moonlight Ring from the grass. That cursed thing locked me into a mate bond with Silvermoon Pack's Alpha. Too bad his heart already belonged to my sister, Irene. She lived to a hundred, had five pups with her real mate in Ravenshade Pack while I rotted. Every time she got cozy with her mate, Leon tossed me in the basement. "You picked up that ring! I had to watch my true love build a family with someone else!" For eighty years, she lived happily. I barely lived at all. Leon flayed me open, let my skin grow back, then crushed my bones just to watch them heal. Every day felt like dying on repeat. Only when Irene finally kicked the bucket did he let me go. Then boom—I woke up, right back on the day I picked up that damn ring. I wasn't gonna screw it up again. But Irene—always the clean freak—snatched it off the ground before I could stop her.

I had been with Cameron Stevenson for three years, yet he had never marked me. To win back the Silver Moon Pack's Alpha, I agreed to his ridiculous request of mating in the wild. Cameron snapped a pair of silver handcuffs on me and bound me to a tree. My pants had barely come off when his phone rang. It was that Omega, Rebecca Anderson. "Cameron, the pup is sick!" she cried. He pulled out of me instantly, yanked his pants up, and ran. "Don't worry! I'm coming!" I struggled and shouted after him. "Cameron! The cuffs! Uncuff me first!" He was already several yards away when he turned back with an impatient remark. "Just wait! Rebecca's pup is the hope of the entire pack!" I waited an entire day and night. The cold wind cut like blades. The silver cuffs ate into my wrists until skin and blood mixed. Cameron never came back. 'Cameron… Since you couldn't let go of that low-ranked Omega, I wouldn't mind burying the two of you together. You'll never be apart for the rest of your lives!'