Pure Consort の小説・ストーリー

I loved him with all my heart but I only received pain and betrayal. The door didn't open. I tried multiple times but the door never opened. Anger rushed inside my veins. I turned back only to see Dylan standing there on the spot, his eyes glued on the shining marble floor. "DYLAN, OPEN THE DOOR!! LET ME GO!!" I yelled furiously as I glared him with pure hatred and disgust. "Never", he mumbled in an inaudible voice. My blood boiled seeing his audacity still I calm myself down and looked at him in anger. "Why?", I gritted. He finally looked at me. His eyes turned darker as he smirked menacingly. "Because you're my wife, Evelyn Black" This story deals with the struggles of Evelyn Clarke, an intelligent and innocent girl who tries to stand for herself as she gets betrayed by the love of her life Dylan Black when she comes to know about his dark, cruel intentions behind their marriage....

Amara was raised to be a perfect bride, a perfect Luna for a man she's never met, until her fiance's enemy steals her from her convoy's wreckage. Their Alpha is intoxicating—all sharp edges and burning eyes that see straight through her every facade. When the mate bond ignites between them, it sets fire to everything she was taught to be. His touch is electric, addictive, making her crave things no proper lady should want. With eyes that promise damnation and hands that deliver salvation, every brush of his fingers rewrites Amara's understanding of desire and corrupts her 'pure' upbringing. But her sinfully attractive mate harbors deadly secrets—ones that could destroy everything, including her. As she falls deeper into her captor's intoxicating darkness, Amara must choose: the safe life she was promised, or the dangerous man whose touch might mean her end. Still, not everything is as it seems. Not when the Bloodmoon is upon them.

My life has always been like that of a prisoner. My father has always protected me from the outsiders not because he cared for me but because he is a mafia king of Eastern Italy and my virginity is the weapon which he would use to gain more pride. He feared that I might run away or worse would lose my virginity to some random guy, not from our world. He wanted me to be pure, because in our world no one marries a used girl. When a truce was signed between Eastern and Western Italy, I was offered to marry the would alpha of eastern Italy. I considered him different,thought he was unlike the other men in our world and will protect me from the bad. Something that was acceptable by me, was happening in my life for the first time when everything destroyed on my wedding night and now I don't have any emotions left in me and the only thing I want now is to seek revenge.

"How long will you cry over your dead fiancé?"The man came closer to the weeping girl while whispering his venomous words with a dark chuckle.She looked at him with pure rage in her eyes. "Don't you dare to bring his name in your filthy mouth?" "Come on.You can think of my offer now.We can start from where we were left." "Slap" A loud sound echoed. "You murderer, you have killed him." She spoke in between her uneven sobs. "How would you prove that?Your lawyer partner has committed suicide after losing his case."He spoke while rubbing his cheek where she slapped him afew seconds back.Wiping her tears away she spoke with her gritted teeth, "Mr. Madhban, you have seen me fighting with my fiancé so far.Now you would face Advocate Suhani Rane fighting for her fiancé's justice.See you in court."

Scent witch, beautiful female assassin, or innocent tea shop owner? Mafia family's young master, terror vampire, or outstanding handsome genius? Gotha Edward Ethelbert and Coronis Emma meet on a snow-covered winter night in December, where the old tea shop has warm embers of a fire. He is a handsome genius with a cold and quiet personality who is a descendant of the illustrious Mafia family Gotha. She is a girl with a lively, innocent, and pure personality and a starlight smile. When fate brought them together, the genius Ethelbert discovered the hidden secrets behind Coronis's origin - a calculated assassin with a tragic past buried in the case of more than 15 years ago. A terrible fire destroyed the UVS orphanage. Even his true love is also not the real Coronis! More specifically, her always-hidden past is directly related to the Gotha family's bloody criminal scheme. His true background is also beginning to emerge. When everyone in the masquerade is wearing mysterious masks, Where will this love go?

He doesn't take no for an answer. And she's never said yes-until now. Arden Blake has built world on control. A high-powered event planner with a sharp tongue and tighter walls, she doesn't have time for complications-especially not ones wrapped in six feet of tattoos, arrogance, and pure sin. Enter Rhett Maddox- ex military, ex lover, and the man who walked away without a word five years ago. Now's he's back in town, cocky as ever, and owning the nightclub she's been forced to work with. The last thing she want is to play nice. But the way he looks at her? Like he remembers exactly how she sounded when she used to beg for it? Yeah That's dangerous. Rhett doesn't play games .He plays for keeps. And this time, he wants more than her body- he wants her surrender. Mind, mouth, and soul. But Arden doesn't beg anymore. Unless he makes her...

"On your knees, baby girl." I looked up at him, lips parted. "You gonna punish me for wanting you?" His smirk was pure sin. "No, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you beg for more." ** He's the one man I was never supposed to touch. My father's best friend. Older. Ruthless. Filthy rich. Damian Wolfe owns half the city-and every filthy thought in my head. He's dangerous the way powerful men are: Quiet, controlled, and used to getting exactly what he wants. One night. One mistake. Now he's in my head, under my skin, and between my legs. He says I'm too young. Too off-limits. But his hands say otherwise. So does his moans. I was supposed to be a good girl. Now I'm the obsession he won't let go of. And the sin he won't stop tasting.

When my husband, Matteo Romano, comes over to pick me up so that we can attend an auction on our wedding anniversary, I spot a woman sitting in the front passenger seat of his car. "This is Sofia Bianchi, the one I've been telling you about. She's still very young, so you must take good care of her." So, this is the woman, huh? The same woman who's been making waves in my family, and also the one my subordinates have warned me to watch out for, hmm? Sofia is clad in a simple white dress that makes her look pure and innocent. The way she acts delicate yet prideful gives me a weird feeling. She casts me an aggrieved look while biting her bottom lip. Reluctantly, she says to me, "Hello, Mrs. Romano." I reply kindly, "Hello!" At the same time, I open the car's back door. "By the way, your seat's at the back."

My Valenese neighbor dressed like a temptress—curves in all the right places, a delicate body topped with a pair of full, heavy breasts. Her name was Ayame. When she came by that evening to ask my husband to fix her computer, I heard the unmistakable sounds of pleasure drifting from the other room. "Wanna try my new tongue stud? Consider it your payment for the repair." Then came my husband's moans of pure, shameless delight. I couldn't help but feel jealous. It had been so long since he'd sounded that happy with me. As I listened, my hand slid slowly beneath the waistband of my pants. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. I'd heard that Ayame's husband had a full ring of piercings down below. I'd been craving a taste for ages. If Ayame could seduce my husband, then I'd take my own turn sampling those piercings.

For her whole life, Lyra Suarez had been a good girl. That one girl who was too sweet, too nice, too helpful, too kind, too easy to manipulate, too easy to use, too easy to destroy. Being too pure and too caring sometimes has its bad side. And she knew that too well. At twenty-three, she was busy working her life away just to protect herself and keep her distance from her biological father, who never even claimed her.   With just one laced drink, her trust in her only aunt disappeared. Everybody seemed to see her as a beautiful ticket to a fortune. She was sold to a filthy old man.   While her poor soul cried for help, calling all the saints never seemed to work. And as her last prayer, in her most desperate state, she called for him... the Devil.   Because a deal with the Devil is always better than living in hell. And sometimes, the Devil is not the one to fear.