Samus Zero Suit

I despised Dante Moretti long before he slid that ring onto my finger. Arrogant. Controlling. The kind of boss who could ruin my day with a single clipped order. I hated the way he spoke to me. I hated the way he watched me more. But walking into my hometown with his ring and watching my ex-husband’s face drain of color felt wickedly perfect. The elders wanted to see real love before selling their land. So Dante and I lied. We played the sweet couple. Except Dante didn’t touch me like a man pretending. At the Christmas market, his hand slid down my spine and stopped right where it shouldn’t. At dinner, he whispered against my ear, “If he’s watching, spread your legs a little. Let him see who owns you now.” I should have slapped him. Instead, my body answered him before I could breathe. He kissed my temple too slow and held my waist too tight. When the lights dimmed, he murmured, “Open for me.” “Keep your eyes on me.” “I want you shaking for me, not for him.” Somewhere between hating him and wanting him to wreck me, everything blurred. Because the man who barked orders in boardrooms had me whispering his name in the dark, Christmas lights flickering over his bare shoulders while he swallowed every sound I made. My ex wanted me broken. Dante wanted me ruined, but only beneath him. And the worst part was how easily I let him. Santa didn’t bring me a miracle. He gave me a sin in a three piece suit and I tore the wrapping off with trembling hands.

After catching her fiancé buried between her sister’s thighs, Maria ran. Straight into the arms of the last man she should’ve fallen for—his father. ~~~~ MARIA: The future I imagined went to shit the night before my wedding. Being betrayed by those closest to me nearly fucked me up, leaving me broken and in need of an escape. When I fled, I did it with zero plans—nothing but rage in my heart and my suitcase in hand. But then fate threw me into Declan: older, dangerously compelling, but also equally scarred. He took me in when I was stranded—no questions asked. It was the last thing I expected, but he continued to care for me, keep me safe and... warm me up. In more ways than one. As days pass, ignoring the heat, chemistry, and.. persistent feelings between us becomes... tough. I feel his eyes on me all the time, and my heart rate triples without permission whenever I bump into him in the house. He clearly wants me. I want him too, but I can't allow it to happen. Because he's the father of the man I now despise the most in the world. DECLAN: I took her in because I wanted to help. Who am I kidding, it's more than that. I couldn't help myself. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she had my heart in a choke hold. And as the days went by, resisting her became the sweetest torture. It became like hell to keep my hands to myself, or my mind from imagining obscene things whenever I see her. But we’re not free to give into this. She’s only 23, and I’m... nearly twice her age. And what's worse, I'm the father of the man who broke her heart.

Alpha Brent Wilson looks breathtaking in his three-piece dark suit as he waits at the altar. He’s smiling and I smile back. Only for that smile to vanish when I realize he isn’t smiling for me. He stopped smiling for me the day he realized I was his mate. I follow where he is looking and bite my lower lip when I see that his gaze lands on the tall, blonde woman standing on the front pew, the lucky woman who owns his heart. Rosie. I know that if he could choose, without a doubt, he would choose to marry her in a heartbeat. However, as an alpha, he has duties and responsibilities that can only be fulfilled with an omega by his side. It doesn’t mean he has given her up though. Because there she is, smiling gracefully and beautifully. I’m the one marrying the alpha, but she’s the one with the winning smile, glowing more than the bride. Can’t he hear it? Can’t he feel anything? The howls of our wolves. Their broken pleas. The screaming straight from our souls. Because I hear it all. I feel it all. But he remains looking at her. Just her. That day, I walked straight into the flames and let myself burn, believing my mate will realize my worth one day… which never happened. I gave and gave until I had nothing more to give. Until I grew tired of fighting for the mate who didn’t want me. Until I snapped. Until I was strong enough to finally reject our bond and walk away. But when I did, something unexpected happened. He hunted me. He chased me. And this time, he was the one who refused to let me go.

*Hollis Bogard isn’t known for her commitment. In fact, she’s content leading a single, flirtatious life. That might change after meeting Whitney York, a free spirited artist thirsting for adventure.Having been cursed out, chased, and scorned by every broken hearted woman twenty eight year old heroin addict Hollis Bogard has slept around with, she’s not fazed at all by any of it. Always preferring to look for the next best set of kissable lips. Life as an emotionally unavailable bachelorette has served her well, and after all...everyone was warned before anything happened. Feelings were a big no. Hollis had seen what love did to her parents, and wanted nothing to do with the white picket-fenced lie. So long as her bed was warm when she needed it to be, that’s what mattered.Californian Whitney York is ready for a new start. While spontaneity wasn’t a strong suit of her’s, packing up everything she owned into her little black 2008 Toyota Prius and driving cross country to Auburn, Maine was the best idea she’d had all year. No more nagging mother, to hell with her father always comparing Whitney to her successful sister, Theresa. The one with the prestigious acting career, doting husband, and two all American poster children. She wanted to be free to figure out her own destiny. When elusive Hollis bumps into electrifying Whitney at a local bar on the outskirts of town, sparks fly between the unlikely pair.Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, graphic sex scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2019 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don’t attempt to steal any part of my work.

Lyric Greyheart spent years living the life everyone expected of her. She was the perfect Luna, perfect daughter, and perfect mate, but behind closed doors, the truth was nothing but blood and heartbreak. Every night, Lyric was forced to endure the agony of her mate's betrayal. And when Lyric finally snapped and invoked an ancient law to break their sacred bond, she uncovered a truth that put her life in danger: her freedom came at a prize almost too big to pay. Forced into hiding, Lyric leaves her pack and the world she was born into. She settles in a quiet coastal town and opens a small ice cream shop, trying to build a life that is gentle instead of brutal. A life without fear, without duty, without eyes watching her womb as if she were nothing more than an incubator meant to bring the next heir into the world. She has no wolf, no pack, and no intention to ever belong to anyone again. Then Noah Locke walks into her shop. He looks nothing like the tourists who usually wander in for soda floats and sundaes. Sharp suit, dangerous presence, eyes that see far more than they should. Lyric doesn’t know who he is or why he feels so familiar, but Noah is the kind of man who doesn't take no for an answer. And he keeps coming back. Asking questions she doesn’t want to even think about. He watcher her like he's been waiting for her his whole life. Lyric escaped a mate who tried to own her, and she has no idea she just crossed paths with a man even more powerful and far more dangerous than her ex-mate. A man, who will burn the world to the ground to keep her from harm

She loved him to the core, and from the age of four, a name called Neil Davis took residence in her heart. For the sake of his precarious career, she even went so far as to bear children for the unfamiliar Wilson couple. Twenty years of silent devotion led to him kneeling before another woman, promising her a lifetime commitment. No one knew she was the other half on his marriage certificate, trapped in a marriage that existed only in name for many years. "Neil, you'll never know what I've sacrificed for loving you!" "Then never tell me." With that, he coldly walked away, leaving her to sit alone in the living room until dawn. It was her twenty-fourth birthday, and the divorce agreement and a five million dollar check were his gifts to her. * Married for six years, she never imagined that one day, while he indulged in passion with his "fiancée" in bed, she would be curled up in the wardrobe, losing her virginity beneath another man! She was completely naked, while the man was impeccably dressed in a suit. He forced her to peer through the crack to witness the frenzied scene on the bed. "Same position, same frequency. Guess, between him and me, who will climax first?" The man's tone was serious, and under her startled gaze, he thrust even harder, penetrating deeper. "I love you, Neil!" She bit her lip tightly, but the ecstatic cries of Neil's "fiancée" from outside the wardrobe blurred her vision. Life is so ironic— While he was making love to other women, she was hiding in the closet having an affair with that woman's uncle, Mr. Wilson. After the divorce, a child in a little suit, resembling herself and Mr. Wilson, barged into her peaceful life.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

WARNING! Mature Contents!!! A one-night stand of hot unprotected sex filled with passion and desire and Tiffany West and Lorenzo Russo's lives intertwine forever. Tiffany has no idea her stepfather owes the Cosa Nostra money and she's been used to repay the debt with an arranged marriage to Demirci, a member of the Turkish Mafia. And then there's him. The devil with a handsome face and nice tailored suit and a heart as black as tar. Lorenzo Russo. He's the man she lusts after and loathes more than anything— his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance, and too too-perceptive eyes. He's ability to see through her disguise to the broken girl she is has her infuriated. He's the embodiment of darkness and probably one of the most dangerous men in the world but she has no idea she's his frustration and fascination. Nowhere in Lorenzo Russo plan had he ever prepared for Tiffany. She's his opposite in every way… and the greatest temptation he's ever known. The breathing definition of everything he didn't want. She laughs too loud. She talks so much. She's clearly not his type, but still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her wherever she goes and thinking about their night of wild sex. After a wild party where Tiffany clearly had too many drinks. She wakes up next to Lorenzo wearing his ring. His wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to Lorenzo Russo, a Mafia don. Now she's forced to live with him. Sleep next to him. Be a wife to him. It didn't take long before shadows of the past comes knocking in the face of Salvatore Russo, the devil of a father that orders the murder of his sons. Now he's out to destroy the one thing Lorenzo Russo seems to obsess about, Tiffany West.

*******He can spank me every single day, I might get addicted to this.  Suddenly he's off from me, and I instantly miss his dominant warmth, so I take a chance to look behind me and I must have died and gone to heaven, because Alessandro Moretti is stripping himself from his pristine suit, unveiling the fine body he hides underneath it.  First his jacket goes, then he angrily takes off his tie, his eyes never leaving mine and I'm completely immobilized as he reveals that chest to me that I would love to map with my finger.  I gulp when his hands go to his belt buckle and he drops his pants, dressed now in only black boxer briefs. He palms his very hard, very big erection through the material brazenly and I'm scared I might really get a heart attack from the way my heart is beating furiously.*****  When the Prince Of The Underground first lay eyes on the beauty that is Farrah Simpson, he is caught hook, line and sinker. At first he thinks he can get her out of his system, but the beauty has more depth than he could've ever imagined. Against her will and better judgement, she too falls in love with the dangerous criminal, changing her life forever. As much as Alessandro loves her, he has to let her go. He has too many enemies who would salivate at capturing her, and he simply cannot take the risk with the woman who owns his whole heart. He tries to stay away from her, but Farrah wouldn't let him. He made her fall in love with him and she cannot see her life without him. Will Alessandro be able to stay away from her? Or will Farrah convince him she's worth fighting for?

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.