Rough Sleepers Novelas e Histórias

"You don’t know what you’re playing with." He murmured, His hand traced a slow path down my arm, fingers firm but deliberate, sending a shiver straight to my core. "You are scared" “I’m not.” I whispered. He smiled. “You should be.” Before I could think, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto mine, rough, urgent, claiming and fierce, consuming fire of his touch. "I can't stop. I don't won't to." Then he claimed my lips again. And soon, my lips moved. I was kissing back. This shouldn’t be happening. Just then footsteps echoed. “Rylan—stop, someone’s coming—” But his hands only gripped my waist tighter, holding me still. he whispered. “Let them. I don’t care.” then his lips crashed against mine, harder. I tried turning away but he grabbed my neck and stuck his tongue into my mouth. "Rylan please." my eyes dart to the door. "Stop." I struggled. His hand slipped down to grab my ass. Squeezing it tightly. "If you weren't wearing a jean, I would have stuck my fingers right into your holes. Fuck." He hissed then continued. A light knock sounded at the door followed by the twisting handle. No! ★ Some-secrets are born in fire... and some desires, forged in darkness. Alyssa Milano carries a past she can’t outrun-one soaked in blood, silence, and a secret that could ruin her. At fifteen, her innocence was stolen. Rylan Russo is danger, ruthless, powerful, and used to getting what he wants. When he sets sights on Alyssa, their worlds collide in a storm of obsession and desire. Is this a love story tocall? In a world where trust is poison and passion is a weapon, Alyssa must choose her path. A dark, twisted romance where survival comes at a cost.

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

There was an unspoken rule in high society. When families arranged marriages, the woman chose her partner through an auction. I had chased Zayn Farrell since I was young. At the auction, I did not hesitate. I bid at the highest tier and chose him. Not long after our engagement, my parents died in a car accident, and my family fell from power. I thought Zayn would take the chance and leave me, but he still married me. He doted on me and turned me into the woman everyone in Ravenwood envied. I believed I had moved his heart, until his first love, Yara Xavier, returned. The first time I met Yara, she brought her luggage into the Farrell family villa. Soon after, someone threw all her belongings out. The servants later said I had ordered it. I tried to explain, but Zayn did not believe me. He locked me outside and made me kneel in the rain for the whole night. The second time, Yara tripped and fell down a steep slope. She said I had pushed her. Zayn lost his temper and punished me. He made me climb a rough mountain path in high heels. He did not stop until he saw that I was covered in blood. My legs were bruised and swollen. The third time, I found out the truth by accident. My parents died because Yara found out about my engagement to Zayn and had orchestrated it. Zayn married me to keep me close so he could watch me and make sure Yara would never go to prison. My world collapsed. On the day I finally got the evidence and went to the police, Zayn drove his car into me and killed me. When I opened my eyes, I was back at the auction. It was the day I chose my fiance.

"Does my son f*ck you this good? No? Then take this d*ck like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a f*cking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking D*ddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, f*ck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them D*ddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public s*x in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they f*ck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the f*cking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

I should have been walking down the aisle. Instead, I was running through the woods in my wedding dress. The white fabric caught on every branch, tearing apart like my life. My name is Camela Siegel. My father is the Mayor, and he sold me to save himself. Vincent Castellano was supposed to be my husband. They call him the Mad Prince, but I learned he’s so much worse than that. His hands trembled when he touched me—sometimes gentle, like I might break, and sometimes rough, like he wanted to overpower me. “You’re mine now,” he’d whisper in the dark corners of that house. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to hurt you but me.” I tried the door handle every day for three months. It only turned from the outside. When help finally came, I thought it was over. I thought I could go home and pretend none of it ever happened. I was wrong. Vincent found my journal—the one where I wrote about him, about what he did to me, and about who he truly is. Now he’s not just keeping me locked up. He’s hunting me. They call him “The Fox” for a reason. He’s patient and waits. When he catches what he’s after, he never lets it go. I can feel him watching me even now—through my bedroom window, from across the street, in the shadows where I can’t see him but I know he’s there. My father thinks making that deal saved his life. He doesn’t realize it destroyed mine. Vincent said he’d keep me until the last day of my life. I’m starting to think that day is coming soon.

A gasp escapes me as my back hits the wood, and hands grab mine, pinning them high above my head, forcing me to look straight into the face I’ve tried so hard to forget. Kai. His scent filled my senses, spicy and dangerous and so damn soothing. His gaze burned into my skin and the amount of fury in them almost made me shiver. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap. He leans in, voice low and venomous. “You like cuddling up in another man’s arms, Virelle?” “Excuse me?” I hissed. “Ric is my mate. I can do whatever the hell I want.” His jaw clenches as his nostrils flares. “You think he can please you?” I glare at him, ignoring the heat pooling low in my belly. “Yes, I do, because he’s my mate and I can do whatever I want, I don’t owe you anything.” “Bullshit,” he growls and before I could blink, his lips crash against mine…hard. His lips are rough and angry, his teeth grazing mine with his tongue forcing its way in, like he’s trying to claim what he threw away. My mind is screaming at me to shove him off, but my body is traitorous and trembling, and is already responding. I could feel Nyzarelle howling in delight, as I clutched to him for dear life. I'd never felt like this with Ric A moan slips from my mouth but is swallowed by his tongue as his hand grips my thigh, trailing up until I feel them on my folds. He massaged my folds roughly, before stuffing his hands into my panties and pooling a finger into me. My back aches as he finger fucks me angrily, not giving space to catch my breathe.

"Please," he said, and his voice had gone rough, desperate. "Let me see you. Let me see your face." My hand came up and covered his where it rested on my mask. "Okay," I whispered. He pulled the mask off slowly, carefully, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to seeing without the green tint. His hand was still between my legs, fingers still moving in slow circles that made my breath come in short gasps, but he'd gone very still otherwise. I looked up at him, at the green mask still covering his face. "I want to see you too." He didn't move or speak anymore. Something cold started to spread through my chest, cutting through the heat he'd built there. "What?" I asked. "Am I too ugly to be your mate?" His hand jerked away from me like I'd burned him. The loss of contact made me want to cry out, made my body ache with sudden emptiness. He took a step back, then another, and I could see his hands curling into fists at his sides. His whole body was shaking. "What the fuck," he said, and his voice had gone flat and cold. ***** Kaireen was disowned by her parents just because she rejected a marriage proposal, she stayed the night with her friend, got into an impromptu game that changed her fate, she met her mate, the one thing she never knew she could have but it was her nightmare. Her Bully and her brother who would stop at nothing to make life hell for her, to worsen it all, he needed to mark her to survive in an Island of Cruel Lycans. How did they get there? How will her parents and pack react knowing she was mated to the most cruel Alpha brother.

"Let me go," I snapped, even though my voice wasn’t as sharp as I wanted it to be. “No,” he growled, lips grazing the shell of my ear, his breath warm and wicked as his hand slid down, fingers pressing just above my thigh, and trailed all the way to my wet fold. “You want to hate this, don’t you?” he whispered, mouth trailing hot kisses along my neck as his hand shifted my underwear, “But your body’s begging, baby.” I gasped, lips parting, and before I could spit out a comeback, he crushed his mouth to mine. The kiss was rough, full of hunger, and I whimpered into his mouth before I could stop myself. My body pressed into his, desperate for more. But he suddenly pulled both his lips and hand back, “Say the word and I’ll stop.” I stared at him. My chest was rising and falling too fast. My lips were swollen. My thighs, God, I was throbbing. I want, I need. He pressed a knee between my legs and my and I mewed. Yes, me. I mewed like some needy, pathetic bitch in heat. For him. "That’s what I thought," he growled, and the next second he pinned both my wrists above my head and kissed me like he was trying to ruin me all over again. **** Liora once has a powerful name, a future paved in gold, until Tristan Cole walked in and tore everything apart. Now, years later, Liora is forced into a marriage contract with the very man who destroyed her life, all to save her dying brother. But Tristan wants something more dangerous. Her heart. Her body, all of her. Will love be her ultimate undoing? Or will she crawl out of wreckage and gain control?

Content Warning: Smut, Smut, Smut. "Whose touch made you tremble the hardest tonight?" Alaric's voice was a low snarl as he gripped her jaw, forcing her mouth open. "Yours," she gasped, her voice wrecked from screaming. "Alpha, please..." Aiden's fingers dug into her hips as he slammed back inside her, rough and unrelenting. "Liar," he growled against her spine. "She begged for mine." "Should we make her prove it?" Archer said, his fangs grazing her throat. "Tie her up again. Let her beg with that pretty mouth until we decide she's earned our knots." She was trembling, dripping, used—and all she could do was moan, "Yes, please. Use me again." And they did. Like they always do. Like they can't help it. Like she belongs to all three of them. *** Melina Voss had one plan: steal the plant and disappear. She didn't plan to stay. She didn't plan to be caught. She definitely didn't plan for them. Broke and desperate, with nowhere else to turn, Melina infiltrates the Howlington Estate under a stolen identity. She has forty-eight hours to complete her mission before anyone discovers she doesn't belong. But everything changed when she met them. Alaric. Aiden. Archer. And what she doesn't know is that they already know, And that they even made preparation for her arrival. *** Three identical Alpha Kings, Plagued by a mysterious family curse, Every sixteenth day of the month, they nearly lose themselves to the beast within. Melina was supposed to be just another face in the crowd, another maid. But something changed the moment she walked through their doors. Now they want her marked, claimed, possessed. And the more they take, the more they crave. Three Alphas. One thief. No fate. Just possession. The more they taste her, The harder she is to let go.

Eric couldn't resist reaching out to touch Katrina's face. Her skin was warm and soft. She smelled like lilac soap and cinnamon, a delightful combination he had only encountered in her. He slid his thumbs slowly across her lips. They opened with a tiny gasp that made them all more tempting. "Kat... " He looked into her eyes and forgot what he had intended to say. God! She was too beautiful. Her eyes were filled with care, love and longing. Longing that sure matched his own. Very slowly, wanting to draw out every moment, Eric brought his lips to hers. He watched her eyes glaze, and heard her ragged moans when his mouth touched hers, then he kissed her passionately. He ran his lips down over the line of her throat. Heavenly warm skin met his lips. Eric inhaled the downy softness, bringing his hands up along her hips, at her waist and upward along her ribs to the front of her blouse, over her breasts. Katrina moaned softly in approval, cupping her hands in his as he undid the buttons on her blouse. Her breasts came spilling into his hands after he unhooked her bra. He filled his palm with her breasts. "God! I want you Kat" he said with a voice laced with deep passion. Katrina Argos aged twenty,set out to take her revenge on Eric Salmadiego, the guy who almost ruined her sister's life. Eric Salmadiego aged twenty four was a well known arrogant and popular billionaire. Not only was he arrogant, he was a full time playboy. To achieve her mission, Katrina moved into Eric's house as a live in maid. The both of them started on a rough note, but as time went by they fell in love with each other.