Re Zero Sloth

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

My little sister, Maya, got into a car crash. I put her in a high-end recovery center. Her injuries were bad. Progress crawled. They kept extending her treatment, one phase at a time. Early this morning, the manager called. Said the card wouldn't cover the next phase. That's when it hit me—peak season at the company. I'd been slammed, barely breathing. I hadn't topped it up in forever. I told her I'd transfer the money. She shut it down. Said I had to show up and sign in person before they'd extend anything. So after work, I rushed over. Straight into rush hour traffic. Then she called again. "Ms. Keyne, your balance hit zero three minutes ago. We're terminating services. This is a premium facility—we don't do free care. The patient tied to your account has been removed per policy."

On the night before the wedding, my fiancé’s female best friend, Marisol Vance, sent me a set of photos. In the photos, she wore the custom haute couture wedding gown I had commissioned, leaning into Lucian Drake’s arms, with a caption meant to provoke me: [Borrowing your groom and your dress for a moment—after all, Lucian said I look better in this than you do.] Soon after, my social feed was flooded with their so-called wedding photos. In the images, the two of them staged a mock kiss, the caption reading: [More than friends, not quite lovers. If we had been born ten years earlier, there would have been no place for anyone else.] I held up the photos and confronted Lucian, yet he played his game indifferently, then tossed his phone aside, his face full of impatience. “I told you, it was just for fun—a way to commemorate our youth. Can you stop acting like a shrew? She was just diagnosed with depression. What’s wrong with me comforting her?” Looking at his self-righteous expression, I smiled. “Fine. Since your bond is so unbreakable, I won’t play the villain.” That very night, I drafted a withdrawal agreement and halted the arrangements I had been making with a top-tier overseas medical team for his mother. “The wedding is off. Don’t expect me to keep patching up your bankrupt company, and don’t expect me to save your mother either. “Your youth is precious—I hope you can afford to pay the price to keep it so.”

WARNING: Strictly for Adults 18+ This collection dives straight into hardcore, no-holds-barred erotica. Graphic fucking, raw dirty talk, dominance, surrender, high-stakes risk, taboo lines crossed, cheating spouses, massive age differences, group play, BDSM intensity, gangbangs, public exposure, outdoor pounding, and relentless, shameless orgasms. These tales are built to make you throb, soak through your panties, and leak pre-come. If any of that crosses your limits, close this now. Once you start, you'll devour every dripping detail until nothing's left unsaid. Crack it open and let the cravings take over. Zero forgiveness. Zero shame. Only thick, pulsing depravity. Rated 18+.

No safe words. No limits. Just raw, wicked pleasure. Step into a world where boundaries don’t exist, only desire does. This collection of scorching short stories takes you from moonlit rooftops to steamy locker rooms, from public restrooms to private fantasies. Threesomes, breath play, BDSM, and irresistible encounters collide in explosive tales that promise to leave you breathless. Whether it’s a secret tryst with an ex lover, a scandalous game with an athlete, or a lust-fueled session in zero gravity, a fuck by the pool, each story delivers unfiltered, unrelenting heat. Wild. Wet. Wanton. You’ve never read sin like this before. If you’re not dripping by the end of each tale, check your pulse. Content Warning: This book is dark, raw, and unapologetically explicit. It explores the deepest, most tantalizing corners of desire, pushing boundaries and playing with power. For those ready to indulge in their darkest fantasies. If you know you don’t have a partner, don’t read. Haha, just kidding. It’s for everyone above or at 18 years of age. It will leave you hot and bothered, craving sinful things.

Valeria ran from an arranged marriage and solved the problem as quickly as possible; she married someone else. No photos, no meeting, no romance. Just signatures and a promise to finally meet face-to-face. New residence, new name, and a new job. Except her “new job” turns out to be working as the executive assistant to Ivan Crest. Young, devastatingly handsome CEO, newly married, and entirely too pleased about it. He hires her on the spot, clears his schedule for a mysterious date with his wife, and won’t stop smiling at his phone. What he doesn’t know? Valeria is also counting down the hours to meet her husband for the first time. And what neither of them realizes? They’re texting each other. When Ivan offers her a ride home at the end of the day, she agrees, unaware that he’s heading to meet his wife… on her street. One car, two newlyweds, zero clues. And when the message comes in 

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