Novel & Cerita Please Stop Summoning Me

Warning: For matured readers only This story is not for the faint of heart. It’s dark, twisted, and drenched in betrayal, power, and taboo cravings. Triggers & themes include: Age gap, possessive alpha, forbidden love, best friend betrayal, emotional manipulation, dominance, and raw desire. If you want soft, sweet love stories? This isn’t it. But if you’re ready for a ruthless Alpha who doesn’t ask permission and a girl who should’ve known better but couldn’t stay away.. Then welcome to your next addiction. I came for the summer. To relax. To spend time with my best friend. Not to fall into the arms of her father. But the second Alpha Damon looked at me, I knew I was in trouble. He didn’t see me as a guest. He saw me as his. To control. To ruin. To claim. Now I can’t breathe without thinking about him. I can’t sleep without feeling the imprint he left on my skin. He’s not hiding me anymore. He wants the world to know I’m his. I was innocent. I was hers. Now I belong to the man who was never supposed to touch me.

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.

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."

James Salvatore, a crazed high-end drug lord, known for his coldness finds himself falling head over heels in love with a barmaid due to her striking resemblance to his late wife who had been murdered by his rival, Bethel Sawyer. Out of lust, he kidnaps her and tries to rape her; but her cries and pleas made him stop and instead he makes a deal with her. She had to live with him for 30 days. If she catches no feelings for him even after the 30 days are over, then he will let her return to her family and normal life. Left with no other choice, she agrees. After being together for a while; they both start to develop feelings for each other but Alicia refuses to admit it and leaves James on the 30th day. Unable to stay away from her; he tries all he can to bring her back, but she pushes him away everytime. His frequent visits to her apartment caught the eye of one of his rival's and she ends up getting captured by Bethel's men and gets in a life threatening situation. While in Bethel's custody, she finds that she was pregnant and Bethel relates the news to James with her parents lifeless bodies to wreck him more. Will James be able to rescue Alicia in time? Or will she and their unborn child; face the same fate as his late wife? Find out in this intriguing story of betrayal and trust, love and war, revenge and forgiveness.

At our daughter’s three-month milestone party, my husband Garrett’s so-called "best friend" publicly humiliated me. “Hey, Vivian. I heard you're a little loose down there after popping out the kid.” "If it's that bad, you better get some tightening surgery quick—don't wanna mess up your marriage vibes!" Garrett shot her a playful glare and snapped, "Knock it off, Scarlett! You can't just say whatever pops into your head." Then he turned to me with a breezy shrug. "She's just like that—total tomboy. We grew up together; she means no harm." Scarlett shook her half-exposed breast and pouted, "Oh, come on, don't take it personally, Vivian. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of you." "See, my problem is the opposite. I'm way too tight—hurts like hell during my period. No clue who's gonna get lucky with this later." Then she cut her eyes toward Garrett with a playful wink. " Oh right, you've tried it before, haven't you?" The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes drifted toward me, barely concealing their curiosity. I smiled, set down my wine glass, and looked at Scarlett with fake concern. "That's strange. I don't remember making it that tight when I did your surgery."

“I am not your dead wife!” I scream at him, for the hundredth time but like always, he stares blankly. “Of course you are, Farfalla.” he grins widely. “And until you stop pretending I'm not letting you go.” He's crazy. Adrian Moretti is insane, the red flags were so bright since the beginning but would I not know if I was his wife? I jumped into this mess a little too fast, now how do I convince him I'm not his late wife so he finally let me go? . . . . Three years ago, Adrian’s wife Tatiana died in a plane crash so imagine his surprise when he walks into a strip club and he is allocated a woman identical to Tatiana. Convinced she's his wife, Adrian decides to hold Starlia hostage until she accepts her identity. But is Starlia truly Tatiana? Or he is starting to fall for a stranger that looks exactly like his darling wife?

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.