Sex And Rage Novels & Stories

After I was reborn into the World Cup training camp locker room, the first thing I did was not train harder, but quietly watch the head coach running around the room with his phone in hand. "TactiGenie says it pulls from the world's largest database! If we follow the Invincible Spiral tactic it generates, we'll definitely win this World Cup! We'll win every match by a huge margin!" In my previous life, I had objected, saying, "TactiGenie doesn't understand football at all." The captain immediately slapped me across the face. "Don't talk nonsense. Do you think you know more than TactiGenie? Or more than the coaching staff?" In that life, Team Libertas conceded a total of 16 goals across three

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens

Will he give her the confidence she needs to further her career? Or will he spoil all her hard work? Samaire Grainger values her privacy and is determined to be the best at her job. But with a high-profile job opportunity on the line, she must go from the girl in the corner, the squeaky-clean wallflower, to a party girl, a heartbreaker, in just one week. To do that, she needs the help of Dominic Weston, her favorite client… and secret crush. He’s sexy, a notorious bachelor, and just the right bad boy to destroy this good girl’s reputation. Only Samaire didn’t count on Dominic’s spontaneous streak, or that his brand of improvising could turn their strictly professional relationshi

My father's adopted daughter was only locked in the cramped storage closet for around fifteen minutes, yet he punished me by tying me up and throwing me inside. He even sealed off the ventilation with towels. "As Wendy's older sister, if you can't take care of her, then you should also experience how scared she was," he declared coldly. He knew I was claustrophobic, but my desperate pleas for mercy, my terror, were met with nothing but heartless reprimands. "Let this be a lesson on how to be a good sister." As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it w

"Does it… does it feel good? Playing with another man's wife… on another man's bed… does it feel good…" Late at night, my naked sister-in-law lay sprawled on the bed, her round hips constantly pressing back as she let out moans that trembled with pleasure—the very picture of a woman thoroughly satisfied.

This book contains hot mature explicit scenes. Read at your own risk! . Twenty-five years old and the only provider for her struggling, poor-class family. Angela had no other choice. Saying “yes” to Antonio, was the only way to save her two little nieces. Antonio Montero. An untouchable name! An insatiable monster! The dangerously handsome idol, young billionaire, and media’s obsession—crowned the sexiest man of his generation. A toxic playboy with a trail of scandals, rumors, and broken hearts. Poor Angela.

Jane Waleski and her best friend, Emily Zuckerman, are average achievers on a good day and losers on a bad day, but they're quite proud of it! Or so they try to convince themselves. They read only the shortest books for book reports and always have the worst project for science class. On top of that, they are hopeless romantics. So Jane and Emily form Loser Club: an exclusive club of two. But when a new science teacher shows up at their school, Jane tries to impress her and suddenly finds herself trying to be not so average. Will she have to resign as vice president of Loser Club?

My best friend, Maya, flew in from Miami for my bachelorette week. My last days of freedom. She insisted on a girls' night in to celebrate, ordering all my favorite takeout. She asked me to hold her mobile phone and wait.Then her phone lit up. A message from some guy. A shirtless pic. Text: I need you tonight. Another photo buzzed through. Sex toys. Bondage gear straight out of a movie. My face burned. My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d just stumbled into her secret life. But the next image made my blood run cold. A close-up of the man's chest. A jagged scar I knew better than my own reflection. It belonged to my fiancé, Luciano Carbone.

“You can stand there and deny it all you want,” he said huskily in my ear. “But I know how drenched you were that night. Your tight little p*ssy? It was calling my name, baby.” “You’re insane! I never wanted you!” I gritted out, hating how weak I sounded. Hating how my arms suddenly didn’t have the strength to push him away. How there was a part of me that truly wanted him, despite everything. “Keep denying it,” he murmured, eyes darkening. “It just makes me more eager to bend you over my desk and f*ck that attitude right out of you.” *** When executive assistant Alice Rhodes sent her arrogant and insufferable boss, Theodore Linden-Hawthorne, a sext during the company’s New

After I left prison, my best friend and I opened an auto repair shop together. He provided the money, while I brought the skills. We agreed from the start to split the profits seventy-thirty. Thanks to my talent for performance tuning and custom car builds, our shop quickly became the talk of the local wealthy car‑enthusiast scene. In our first year alone, we cleared a net profit of eight million. When I went to collect my share at the end of the year, my so‑called brother handed me a check for only one hundred thousand. “The business is doing well because I became friends with those rich kids,” he said with a dismissive laugh. “Anyone can modify cars. Do not tell me you actually think yo