Roddy Flushed Away

“Your body belongs to me, Kitten.” He rasped out, cold index finger reaching out to trace over my fluttering pulse. I took an hesitant step backwards, but he took one forward, closing in on me even further and making my breath hitch. “Say it.” I gulped and averted my gaze instead, clutching on my towel harder. His grip on my chin was firm as he tipped my head upwards. I trembled in immense fear. “My b- body belongs to you.” I stuttered shakily, and a dark grin broke out on his face, making my blood run colder. “That’s right. Now, take this off. I don’t think we’ll be needing this tonight.” —— When an underboss’ territory gets raided and his wife and eldest son gets captured, what better way to rectify the situation than to seek help from the most popular Mafia Don in Italy and give his only daughter away in exchange for said help. Catherine has a deep rooted fear of men, and had secretly planned on eloping before she comes of age in which her hand would be given out in marriage, but when the unexpected happened and she had to be the sacrificial lamb, she knew her entire life was doomed. Damien’s was cold, ruthless and emotionless. He had no idea of what to do with his new wife who trembled around him like a lost kitten– but, he knew he could never let her go. Ever since he set his eyes on her and saw the tears running down her flushed cheeks, he knew he had to have her, protect her and keep her all to himself. That might just be hard to do, since danger was never, ever far away from him.

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

My future daughter-in-law, Chloe Cyrus, knelt on the floor in a deep V-neck lace nightgown, her face flushed with a hint of longing as she looked up at me. "Mr. Edison, let me take good care of you tonight." My eyes fell on the proud, smooth swell exposed at her chest, and I swallowed hard. "This… this isn't appropriate, is it?" The next second, she pressed herself tightly against me and crouched down. My mind went blank with desire…

"This feels… incredible… you really know how to handle women…" I'm a figure photographer. Through my lens, I had handled countless women in their most seductive and lascivious moments. The women in my lens, no matter who they were before, always became top-tier models, because I trained each and every one of them. In a dimly lit room, a woman knelt on the bed, completely exposed. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The only thing still held high was the curve of her hips, lifted firmly in my grasp…

As I lay limp in the man’s arms, my face flushed red. I could not help but let his oil-covered hands move over my body. “No… That tickles…” I whined and shuddered because the oil felt hot on my skin. His hands tightened around my thighs as he leaned in and whispered in my ears, “Be good, Claudia. Repeater students face a lot of pressure. Spread your legs. I’ll help you relieve your stress.”

"Please, I'm begging you… Give it to me… I feel so itchy down there… It's so itchy that I'm dying… Sir, please…" In the dimly-lit stairwell, I can only stare at the flushed cheeks of the beautiful woman who lives next door. That's when I feel my heart beating loudly. I approach her, hoping to lend her a helping hand. But I'm feeling a little hesitant at the same time. The next thing I know, she spreads her legs right in front of me all of a sudden. As I stare at her wet entrance, I can no longer hold myself back…

"Mr. Kane, do you have any cucumbers at home? Can I have one?" The hurricane strikes, and my daughter's best friend, Lexie Cooper, is stuck in my home. She comes to ask me for a cucumber late at night with a flushed face. "I'm just a little hungry. I'd like to snack on some cucumber," she says. As I look at the pointy tips peeking from underneath her pajamas, a primal urge surges uncontrollably within me. I say deliberately and slowly, "I have something even better than a cucumber."

After helping my husband build his business from the ground up, I settled into life as a full-time housewife. When our daughter's tenth birthday approached, I planned to host a grand celebration for her. I booked a party that cost 2 thousand dollars per table. But when I swiped my card at the hotel, the staff gave me a strange look. "Mrs. Richmond, this card doesn't even have fifty dollars in it to charge." Flushed with embarrassment, I went home to confront my husband. He wore an apologetic expression. "Lately, the company's been competing for contracts. The new government official is insatiably greedy, and I've had to spend a lot under the table to smooth things over. Once the funds turn around, I'll make sure our daughter gets the grand birthday she deserves." I gave him a gentle, understanding smile—but as soon as I turned away, I began tallying our assets. Because that so-called "new government official" was none other than my father. And in his office, there hadn't been any bids or contracts at all. Now I intended to find out exactly where my husband had spent all our money.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

I was a Beta werewolf, destined to never have a mate. Alongside my best friends, I supported Leo Petroff in his rise to become the Alpha Leader of the Mystic Vale pack. Those under Leo’s command—the Jackson family, to name a few—always looked down on me because I was a Beta, accusing me of dragging their Alpha Leader into a ragtag group. And because I am a woman. I didn't care; perfection often breeds enemies, and that was just my lot in life. I had other wonderful friends, like my girls. I had powerful allies, including Leo, Alpha Warrior Ray and Alpha Guard Frank. I had Beta Bill, whose head was filled with knowledge. And I had Neville, a shy boy who flushed easily and always appeared whenever my spirit was exhausted. Because of them, I believed that even if I was forbidden from having a mate, having them by my side was enough. Fate decided to play a cruel joke on me by turning all the men I trusted most into my mates. Fine, mates. Since they went from the people I wanted to be with to the ones I wanted to stay away from, I decided to grant them one last privilege, the chance to play with me for the final time.