Rituals Perfume Novelas e Histórias

La noche antes de mi boda, descubrí que estaba embarazada. Esa misma noche, descubrí que mi prometido ya había elegido a otra mujer para que le diera su primer hijo. Adrian DeLuca, heredero de un imperio de la mafia y el hombre que una vez juró que yo era la única mujer a la que amaría, volvió a casa con el perfume de ella impregnado en la ropa y me dijo, como si fuera lo más normal del mundo, que no era más que un acuerdo médico. La viuda de su amigo fallecido necesitaba un heredero y, después de que yo no lograra darle uno tras sesenta y seis rondas de fecundación in vitro, decidió que esa era la mejor solución para todos. No dije nada. Lo dejé continuar con los preparativos de la boda. Dejé que creyera que caminaría hacia el altar y me convertiría en la señora DeLuca. Pero mientras él planeaba nuestra boda, yo planeaba mi desaparición. El día de nuestra boda, la mansión abriría sus puertas. Los invitados llegarían. La ceremonia comenzaría. Pero la novia a la que Adrian DeLuca traicionó moriría en ese lugar. Para cuando él descubriera la verdad, que todo ese tiempo yo había estado embarazada de su hijo, yo ya me habría marchado bajo un nuevo nombre, llevándome a su heredero a un sitio donde jamás pudiera encontrarnos.

Tristan Hayes' life took a sharp turn, one moment he was on the cusp of his dream then suddenly found himself drowning. Trauma surgeon residency was brutal enough; losing his scholarship was a knockout blow. Desperate, he swallowed his pride and became "Titan" at Club Inferno. Six months, and he was their star, his body a commodity. Tonight was his last dance – he was booked for a bachelorette party for a bride-to-be linked to the Mafia family. He remembered the haze of perfume, the clamor, the hands pulling him closer and the willing mouths tasting him. He remembered the bride, her eyes wide, her laughter turning into moans and gasps. He entertained the women, the night ending with the bride's face covered in his thick sticky seed. After this night, he wanted to close this chapter of his life. He wanted to forget it all. He should have. Tristan awoke in a cold, unfamiliar room, the fear paralyzing. Now, bound and gagged in a concrete cell, the memory was a burning brand. He learned why they called Giovanni Sokolov "The Siberian Winter." Giovanni, a face carved from granite, stood before him. "My bride," Giovanni’s voice was a low growl, "You entertained my fiancée, She died a week ago, trying to run away with a man. Your seed was the catalyst. You helped her betray me." Giovanni leaned closer, his eyes devoid of warmth. "She was running away, Dr. Hayes. You helped her crave forbidden fruit. You opened the door to betrayal." He smiled, a cruel, predatory expression. "Now, you will pay the price of her betrayal. You will take her place... as my companion in bed... my slave and my plaything. Don't worry I'll make you'll enjoy every second of it."

When I first caught Miles cheating on me, I pinned him down at the entrance whenever he came home every day. I would pull down his pants and spray high-concentration alcohol all over his nether regions. He always went along with it with teary eyes because he knew he had been in the wrong. He would only look at me with a pitiful gaze and coax me to stop. One day, he came home two hours late. I became mad when I smelled the perfume on him. I started taking off his belt forcefully and yelled, “Last time, when you had your fun with one woman, you came home half an hour late. “Now you’re two hours late. Talk! Did you sleep with four?” Even though he apologized to me for the twenty-ninth time, I pushed him away repeatedly. He finally raised his hand to show me the IV mark on the back of it. He snapped and screamed at me, “Enough! I was dying with a high fever, yet you haven’t even asked how I’m doing. You just fly off the handle every single day. When are you going to stop? “Fine, I got drunk and slept with someone once. Big deal. You’re not so innocent yourself. “It’s no wonder you got dragged into an alley at sixteen, stripped, and assaulted. Jenna, you’re a paranoid wreck. You may have even deserved it.” The spray bottle shattered at my feet, and the smell of alcohol caught in my throat. I was speechless. I felt exhausted when I saw his disgusted expression. I did not want this broken relationship any longer.

En el quinto aniversario de mi matrimonio con Álvaro Rosales, la tragedia llegó sin aviso: su hermano murió de repente y él tuvo que asumir el papel de Don. Pero la familia impuso una condición cruel… debía tener un hijo con mi cuñada Sara Olmeda para preservar el linaje. Me negué. Álvaro también… o eso creí. Aún recuerdo cómo apretó mi mano y prometió: —Elena, jamás voy a aceptar eso. Solo tú puedes ser la matriarca de la familia Rosales… y nuestro hijo será el único heredero. Pero con los días, algo cambió. Él regresaba cada vez más tarde, consumido por responsabilidades del clan y con un perfume que no era mío. Hasta que un video anónimo lo confirmó todo. Allí estaba él, junto a Sara, en una consulta prenatal. Su mano sobre su vientre… con una ternura que alguna vez fue mía. —Sara… gracias por darme al heredero de la familia Rosales —le dijo. Y en ese instante, mi mundo se rompió. Su promesa ya era ceniza. Así que hice lo único que me quedaba… incendié el hogar que una vez fue nuestro y me fui sin mirar atrás. Después de todo, mi padre —el Don de la familia Velasco— llevaba años esperando mi regreso… y había llegado el momento de reclamar lo que siempre fue mío.

He wanted a replacement. I was the original. For three years, I was Evie, a woman with no past, saved from a tragic accident by the devastatingly powerful Nathaniel Blackwood. He gave me a name, a home, and a purpose as his contract lover. I thought it was love. The night he proposed in a shower of gardenias, I believed my fairy tale had come true. Until she walked back into his life. Serena Sterling. His missing first love. The woman whose face is my mirror image. In a single moment, my world shatters. I discover I’m not his beloved, I’m her gilded substitute. Every detail of my life, from my perfume to my smile, was curated to match her. And now that the original has returned, the copy is discarded. Heartbroken and betrayed, I vanish from his penthouse with nothing but the clothes I wore when I woke up in the hospital three years ago. But my escape uncovers a truth more dangerous than his deception. I am not a nobody. I am Alessandra Vanderbilt, the missing heiress to a billion-dollar empire. The accident that stole my memory wasn’t random, it was an attempt on my life. And the woman who shares my face may have been the one who ordered the hit. Now, I have two battles to fight: reclaiming my legacy from the aunt who wants me gone, and resisting Nathaniel Blackwood, who has realized too late that the woman he threw away is the only one he truly craves. He’s using every resource from ruthless business deals, public grand gestures, and soul-baring groveling to win me back. But how do you trust a man who loved you only as a reflection of another?

The boy group shaking New York City to its core. The Three Golden Voices of New York. **GOLDEN ECHO** Jaxon (the magnetic leader with a voice that could melt steel), Kai (the playful rapper/vocalist who hides sharp pain behind his smiles), and Ryu (the quiet storm with deep, powerful vocals that anchor every harmony). Together, they’re unstoppable. Magnetic. Their blended voices could send shadows running and shatter stadiums. Fans scream their name like a religion. But everything fractures when *he* crashes into their world. Jaxon finds himself falling — hard, recklessly, maddeningly — for Kai’s boyfriend. The man who never asked for any of it. **Leonard Clifford**. Multi-billionaire. CEO of Clifford Enterprises. Cold as arctic steel, built an empire on ruthless control, and commands rooms without raising his voice. Respect follows him like a shadow. Desire does too — but he keeps everyone at arm’s length. He doesn’t chase. He doesn’t bend. Until Jaxon’s gaze locks on him at the wrong (or right) moment, and something cracks in that icy armor. Without trying, Leonard shatters the trio’s bond. Best friends become strangers. Secrets claw their way into the light. Jealousy burns hotter than spotlights. Lust and love tangle until no one knows what’s real anymore. One stolen glance at a mall perfume counter. One accidental rescue. One whispered “Shorty” that hits like a spark to gasoline. From sold-out arenas to penthouse secrets, the ride is messy, intense, forbidden. Friends to enemies. Enemies to something dangerous. And love that might destroy them all — or save them. This is gonna be filthy, heartbreaking, and fucking electric. Jump in if you're ready for angst, steam, betrayal, and two men who shouldn't want each other... but can't stop

⚠️ WARNING: This book will ruin you for vanilla sex. Side effects include spontaneous wetness, missed deadlines, "one more chapter" syndrome at 3 AM, and explaining to your partner why you suddenly have ideas. Reader discretion advised. Vibrator recommended. For readers 18+ who like their fantasies FILTHY and their boundaries FLEXIBLE. She didn't know she needed five frat brothers until her boyfriend offered her up as initiation. She didn't know she craved her stepdad's best friends until they caught her skinny dipping. She didn't know she was a fertility goddess until the clinic offered natural insemination. Now she knows. DIRTY DREAMS is a scorching collection of no-holds-barred erotica for women who want MORE. More men. More holes filled. More loads taken. More of the fantasies you've only whispered about in the dark. Inside you'll find: → Gangbangs that leave her dripping and delirious → Taboo encounters with men who should be off-limits → CNC scenarios that blur every line you thought you had → Breeding rituals designed to fill her up and knock her up → Good girls corrupted, wives shared, and innocence absolutely wrecked From fraternity basements to fertility clinics, from camping grounds to cult ceremonies, these stories don't tease – they deliver. Every hole. Every load. Every filthy fantasy you've been too ashamed to Google. This is not your mother's romance novel. This is the book you hide on your Kindle. This is the book you read with one hand. This is the book that finally scratches that itch. Contains: gangbangs, reverse harem, dubcon, breeding, taboo relationships, CNC (consensual non-consent), age gaps, degradation, cum play, and absolutely zero apologies. All characters are 18+. All scenarios are fiction. All orgasms are guaranteed.

“I don’t love you dammit. Why don’t you understand I was just faking it to take my revenge!” His hands drop from her. Moving back. Gone those loving tender eyes. “Fine if this is what you choose. No one will stop you from leaving but before that...you will have to grant me one last wish.Your last punishment. Which will make everything even." He speak gulping the throat burning liquid. To see her look at him over her shoulder.To spits the words impatiently. " Speak. What's it!" Moving closer to her from behind. He moves aside her hair from her neck. To stare at his mark on her. Speaking in a cold deadly voice. " I want to fuc* you one last time my little wife." " Fine. " She speaks unaffected. Successful in breaking his heart but no way in hell will he let her get away from him this easily. She will beg for him. And he will make sure that she never gets him. Sniffing her perfume scent. By placing his chin on her shoulder. He whisper in her ear in a voice that sent chills down her spine. " On your knees.NOW!" And that’s  when she drops down. Without resisting. Letting him take his revenge. Which she knew she deserved in every sense. ....... She was just his Beta. Someone he trusts.Someone he can rely on. Until one day she leaves him. Making him realise how much he needs her. Years passed . He moved on. He now has a fiance. But what happens when his Beta comes back. And he feels more than just attraction for her. Will he fulfill his Kings positions honour or will he loose his heart to her? Come find out in ' The Beta girl'

“I, Grayson Stone, take you, Blair Anderson, as my mate and Luna of Redstone pack,” Grayson stated smiling at Blair as they stood in front of the elders. “I, Blair Anderson, take you, Grayson Stone, as my mate and Alpha of Redstone pack,” Blair smiled so brightly, stealing small glances at the crowd. Her eyes landed on me, and she gave a smirk only I seemed to notice. I stood there fighting back heartbreaking pain that radiated through my body as our bond had completely broke. He didn’t even reject me properly. He let the bond snap as he kissed her, as if I never mattered.” Celeste Winters once had a name that echoed across territories, the daughter of the WinterMoon Alpha—fierce, loyal, and born of a legacy older than the crown that now rules the city. But all of that shattered the moment the man she trusted with her soul chose another without a word of goodbye. Cast aside without explanation, stripped of identity and purpose, Celeste ran. She abandoned her title, her pack, even her wolf… burying it all beneath perfume and silence. Now, in the heart of a city that doesn’t know her, she works late-night shifts at a diner and hides her scars behind forced smiles and lingering shadows. Every day she survives, but she does not live. Until the night everything begins to unravel. A rogue attack. A moment of instinct. A power she shouldn’t still have. And a single word whispered by the Alpha King himself as their eyes lock across the chaos: Mate. Celeste never wanted to love again. Never wanted to be claimed, or seen, or remembered. But he remembers her—her scent, her laugh, the steel behind her soft-spoken words. And worse, his wolf wants her. Craves her. But Celeste’s past isn’t just filled with heartbreak. It’s filled with secrets—deadly ones...

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.