Persiguiendo A Su Pareja Sin Aroma

El día del examen de admisión a la universidad, la amiga de la infancia de mi novio se dio cuenta de que dejó su pase de admisión en casa. Él insistió en regresar para buscarlo por ella, pero yo intenté impedírselo. Al final, ella no se presentó al examen de humanidades. Desesperada, saltó por su propia cuenta a su muerte. Tiempo después, mi novio y yo fuimos admitidos en la Universidad Bloomdale, la mejor del país. Desarrollamos carreras exitosas y ganamos salarios millonarios; nuestro matrimonio era perfecto. Sin embargo, en el aniversario de la muerte de su amiga, mi esposo me apuñaló repetidamente, quitándome la vida. —Fue tu culpa que muriera —dijo—. Si yo hubiera vuelto a buscar el pase de admisión de Ginger, ella no habría perdido la esperanza ni se habría quitado la vida. Cuando volví a abrir los ojos, me di cuenta de que estaba de vuelta en el mismo día del examen. La voz ansiosa de mi novio resonó en mi oído: —Amelia, tengo que regresar a buscar el pase de admisión de Ginger. Esta vez, sonreí y dije: —Adelante. Por favor, ten cuidado.

El exesposo de Marta nunca supo lo que era amar… o al menos, nunca supo cómo amarla a ella. Durante el día, Marta se escondía tras la perfección: eficiente, impecable, invisible como secretaria. Por las noches, intentaba convertirse en la esposa ideal… dulce, paciente, suficiente. Pero en los dos años que duró aquel matrimonio, jamás recibió una caricia sincera. Y un día, todo terminó. El mismo día en que ella regresó. La mujer que siempre había tenido un lugar en su corazón. La que creció a su lado. No hubo gritos. No hubo lágrimas frente a él. Solo firmas. Frías. Rápidas. Definitivas. Como si su matrimonio no hubiera sido más que otro trámite sin importancia. Pero el destino… nunca pide permiso. Seis meses después, Marta descubrió que estaba embarazada. Y aun así, no dudó. Se fue. Lejos de los recuerdos, lejos de él. Decidió criar a su hijo sola, construir una vida donde no tuviera que mendigar amor. ¿Que él ahora presumía su relación con aquella mujer? A Marta no le importaba. ¿Que incluso le había propuesto matrimonio? Marta sonrió… y les deseó felicidad. Porque ella ya había aprendido a soltarse. Hasta que el pasado volvió a buscarla… en el momento más inesperado. El mismo día en que su hijo nació. Con el dolor aún latiendo en su cuerpo y el alma hecha un torbellino, lo vio. De pie frente a la sala de partos. Imponente. Intenso. Irrompible. Como siempre. —Quiero que volvamos a empezar —dijo él, con una voz que parecía no admitir rechazo. Pero Marta ya no era la misma. Negó. —Señor Guillén… este niño no es suyo. —No importa… —murmuró, firme, decidido—. Aunque no lo sea… también quiero amarlo.

En la entrega de premios del Concurso Mundial de Diseño de Joyería, mi hermanastra, Sandra, se llevó el gran premio. Usó los diseños que me robó. Lo que no sabía era que el mayor patrocinador del evento era Jude Moretti. El Padrino de la familia Moretti. Un monstruo sediento de sangre, marcado por una explosión, un hombre del que dicen que nunca podrá tener hijos. ¿Y el gran premio? Convertirse en la esposa del Padrino. Esa noche, los hombres de Moretti, todos de negro, entregaron un contrato de matrimonio con ribetes de oro. Habían venido por la "diseñadora genio". Mi prometido, Marco, entró en pánico y llevó a Sandra a Las Vegas para salvarla. Se casaron esa noche. Con el matrimonio hecho, Sandra regresó pavoneándose, vestida con mi bata de seda. Mostró el anillo en su dedo y los chupetones por todo su cuello. —Marco es mío ahora —ronroneó—. ¿Qué vas a hacer, Odessa? El Padrino solo te da un día. Si no te casas con él, la Familia tendrá que apaciguarlo. Eso significa enviarte al barrio rojo. Venderte a la clase de psicópata que se excita con cosas rotas. Ella estaba equivocada. Yo tenía otra opción. Encontré a mi padre y a mi madrastra, ambos luchando por lidiar con el contrato. —Lo haré —dije—. Me casaré con el Padrino.

“My name is Eloise Perkins and I think you’re my father” Eloise’s arrival In Tristan and Alex’s lives sets off a chain of blood and betrayal. Kidnappers storm their abode, bullets shred the air, and Tristan must fight to save his daughter—and the man he loves. In a world where one mistake can mean death, loyalty, love, and rage collide.

El día de mi boda, mi hermana menor regresó al país de improviso. Mis papás, mi hermano y mi prometido me dejaron sola y se fueron al aeropuerto a recibirla. Mientras ella subía a sus redes una foto grupal, presumiendo que todo mundo la adoraba, yo marqué una y otra vez: me colgaron todas las llamadas. El único que contestó fue mi prometido: —No hagas un drama; la boda se puede volver a celebrar. Ese día me convirtieron en el hazmerreír de la boda que tanto había esperado. La gente señalaba, se burlaba, y yo tragué en seco. Respiré hondo, arreglé todo yo sola y, en mi diario, escribí un número nuevo: 99. Era la decepción número noventa y nueve. Entendí que no iba a seguir esperando su amor. Completé la solicitud para estudiar en el extranjero y empaqué mi maleta. Todos creyeron que, por fin, me había calmado. No sabían que ya me iba.

Warning: This book contains several dark elements like light bondage, BDSM, Voyeurism and other dark elements not mentioned. Proceed with caution. Not for under 18. Rhiannon has been the perfect wife, the perfect Luna, the perfect everything. But perfection has a price, and Rhiannon is paying it with her life. As her wolf grows weaker and her marriage grows colder, she's forced to confront the truth she's been hiding from herself for years - her forbidden attraction to the one man she should never want. Her husband's uncle. When betrayal strikes at the heart of everything she holds sacred, she finds herself drawn into a dangerous game of power, submission, and revenge. He's older, darker, and everything her dying marriage isn't. He could give her the dominance she craves and the vengeance she deserves. But surrendering to him means crossing a line that could destroy not just her marriage, but her entire world. Some desires should never be awakened. Some men should never be trusted with a broken woman's submission. And some uncles should never be allowed near their nephew's wives. ____________ “Liar.”he whispered, leaning down until his breath ghosted over my lips. "You’re using me to get back at him. You think I don't know?" I stared up at him. “Does it matter? You’re getting what you want, aren't you?" He chuckled wickedly. “Oh! I’m going to own you," he whispered. "Body. Soul. And that little wolf of yours." He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "Now, open your mouth. Or I’ll make you."

Naina Harper thought she had it all, the perfect life, the perfect fiancé, and a future with Lucas, the man she believed was her soulmate. Until one night shattered everything. Drugged at a party and left vulnerable, Naina wakes up in the bed of Kyle Prescott, the cold, ruthless billionaire known for his dark desires and untouchable power. What should’ve been a nightmare becomes a mystery she tries to forget. But the real nightmare came after. Lucas didn’t just leave her at the altar, he’d been sleeping with her best friend behind her back. The love she trusted turned out to be a carefully crafted lie. She wasn’t just betrayed. She was played. And then, the final blow. Pregnant. And the father? The man from that night. Kyle Prescott. Now, with nothing left to lose, Naina steps into Kyle’s world, not for love, but for revenge. To reclaim control. To make them all pay. But Kyle isn’t a man you walk away from. Not when he’s already made his move. Not when his name is on her body… and now, in her bloodline. He’s the obsession she never chose. The sin she can’t escape. And the billionaire who won’t let her go. Because Kyle didn’t just touch her life, he claimed it. And now, Naina Harper is forever bound… to his sin. ————— This is a slow burn story with just the right mix of mystery and thriller. It’s not just about love and revenge, it’s about secrets , control and the first line between obsession and fate.

To the rest of the world, Dante is Hollywood royalty, the ridiculously attractive oldest son of the notorious Fontaine family.To Ashlyn? He's the guy who made her swear off men forever.She just wants to move on with her life. Run her bakery. Heal her broken heart. She's had three years to try and forget about Dante Fontaine. (Spoiler alert: it hasn't worked.)But when an accidental - and seriously humiliating - encounter brings him back into her life, she's forced to realize that no matter how hard she's tried to forget him, Dante definitely hasn't forgotten her.. . . and this time, he's not going to let her go.Due to explicit scenes, this steamy second chance romance is rated 18+.The Sweet Taste of Sin is created by Ember Casey, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT️ This story contains themes of BDSM, including elements of dominance and submission, bondage, name-calling kinks (such as terms like "whore"), consensual rough play, and some scenes that involve violence. If these topics could be triggering or uncomfortable for you, I strongly recommend proceeding with caution or choosing a different story. But if you're into all this delicious chaos—welcome, and get ready for the ride of your life. Things are about to get wild. Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Why was I thinking about his lips? Was I really that starved for attention? I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the sheer need for something to distract me. But it wasn't just his lips. His jaw was sharp, the muscles of his neck visible beneath the fabric of his shirt. He looked like someone who could make me forget everything. His voice broke through my thoughts. "Something wrong?" I blinked, shaking my head, forcing my eyes to pull away from him. "No. Nothing." I felt his gaze still on me, making me feel like he could see right through all the bullshit I was trying to wear. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the heartbreak, or the way he looked at me, but suddenly it didn't feel like a mistake. It felt like something I needed. Without thinking, I stood, my body moving before my mind could catch up. My heart raced as I stepped closer to him, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He was surprised, but I didn't care. I grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to me, and pressed my lips to his.

His eyes drops to the wedding ring on my finger. Something shifts in his expression. Something sharp. Possessive. Furious. I had sex with my step son and I’m not even sorry. Well it’s wasn’t my intention to. I had no idea who he was. All I cared about that night was his hard body pressed against mine and his tongue circling the inside of my mouth and deep inside my thighs. But as I took off my veil and stare at the man in front of me, I knew I had started a spark that will soon turn into a full blown fire and consume us both.