Sharp Tongue

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

the talks of war, secrets to unravel, retribution awaiting in the corner, and a curse to break. Will the resolve of the mated soul prevail? or will the horror of the past once haunt the harmony again? Nevertheless, Wajan has only one answer. Her dagger, and her sharp fangs. Yet, she must be wise as to where she points the end of her blade, or else it might cost her the heart of the Lakanni Rajanuk, the mighty Alpha chieftain of the Tagar tribe. The Moon sees everything. Will they be strong enough to endure the trials and save themselves from the curse of the Moon and unite the tribes again to their former glory? or will they repeat the forsaken history that will unleash chaos into the scared land? "It rests upon you, child."

. "Shhh, Daddy won't know," Lucas whispered, his hands tracing my thighs as the silk of my robe slid away. My husband bought the robe, but it was his son's touch that made me tremble. "Stop... Stop, Lucas," I said, but my body betrayed me, already dripping with a need I'd buried for years. I was about to make out with a 23-year-old boy, in the home his father paid for. The air was thick with secrets, my guilt a sharp perfume beneath his clean, dangerous scent. This wasn't fixing him anymore. This was him breaking me open, and God help me, I was begging for the crash.

She swore off the rink the night her ex, ice hockey’s golden boy, broke her heart in front of the school. Ice was for scars, not second chances. But everything changes when a mysterious transfer student shows up, a brooding goalie with a record as dark as his past and a smile sharp enough to cut. His deal is simple. Pretend to date him, and he’ll help her win the scholarship that could rewrite her future. But as sparks ignite and secrets unravel, she finds herself caught between old wounds and new temptations. Is he just another player in a dangerous game… or the one person who could change everything?

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

The wedding had reached the part where the groom kissed the bride. I closed my eyes and leaned in to kiss Stella Stafford, only to end up with a mouthful of fur. Her assistant held up the camera and burst out laughing. "The almighty Mr. Rowe can't even tell if he's kissing a person or a dog?" I stared at the Husky in front of me, its tongue lolling out, and felt my stomach churn. I was about to lay into him when Stella stepped in to block me. "It was just a joke. No hard feelings." Laurent Reilly smirked smugly, his tone dripping with arrogance. "And guess what? This Husky happens to be a female, so why don't you just marry her instead? You're not good enough for Stella anyway." The employees erupted in laughter. Mortified, I kicked him square in the chest, sending him sprawling. The next second, Stella smashed a wine bottle over my head and demanded an apology. I wiped the mix of wine and blood from my face, then dialed an overseas number with a cold grin. "The wedding is short one bride. You in?"

"When I come, I come for you, Daisy. Because of you and your mouth, hands, and insatiable little cunt. And it’ll be that way for you in reverse. My tongue, my fingers, my cum inside you. Just you and me, Daisy. Intimate and raw." "Role-play, restraints, sex toys, blindfolds and every single fantasy there is, I look forward to exploring all of them with you." He told her, starkly. ##Intentional love and Erotic scenes. (R18) ********** A few years later, Daisy got stuck in an elevator with the last person she wanted to be seen with, her ex! Somehow she let him talk her into attending a fundraiser over the weekend as his date. Things took a turn for the worst when she realized that running into her ex was something she'll be doing more often. Eventually, she had to make a tough choice to either continue having mind blowing orgasms with no string attached or letting herself fall hopelessly in love with the bad boy that wrecked her heart years ago. Judging from how irresistible Brett Lexington was, the decision turned out to be tougher than she anticipated.

“Elara.” Her name was a warning, a plea as she turned in his arms. “Your brothers—” “Aren’t here.” She reached up, and his sharp inhale of breath as her fingertips grazed the sharp line of his jaw made her smile, “It’s just us both tonight.” She saw the moment the last thread of control he was holding onto snapped, and the next moment he was sliding his hand into her hair, pulling her closer before his lips crashed against hers with a force that stole her breath. Her brothers would probably kill him if they found their sister tangled up with their friends but she didn’t care. Just tonight - she would unapologetically take the one thing her body has been yearning for. 🌸🌸🌸🌸 He was her fated mate. Her brothers’ best friend. And absolutely forbidden. One accidental murder shattered Elara’s human life and revealed the truth, and awakened a truth buried in her blood for nineteen years. She is no ordinary girl. She's a werewolf princess with a kingdom to reclaim and a dangerously attractive beta who makes her wolf sing….literally. But Thorne is off-limits: her overprotective brothers would exile or kill him for touching her, yet the pull between them is undeniable, primal and intoxicating leading to stolen glances and of course stolen nights of pleasure. As if surviving her awakening and being placed with the burden of saving a kingdom wasn’t hard enough, Elara discovers a darker threat: An aunt who wants her dead. Now she must navigate her new identity, fight for her throne and resist a forbidden bond that could either save her… Or destroy her.

Tate flirts with danger the same way he flirts with men. Recklessly. So when his father’s debts land him in the hands of Enzo Moretti, a cold-blooded mafia boss with a smile as sharp as his threats, Tate should be terrified. Instead, he flirts harder, hiding sharp eyes behind thick glasses like he doesn’t see the monster watching him. But he does. He always did. Enzo is no ordinary criminal. He’s a werewolf with a body built to break, a past soaked in blood, and a temper barely kept in check. Tate is supposed to be collateral—silent, obedient, forgotten. But Tate? He’s loud, shameless, stubborn enough to make Enzo feel. For months, they circle each other—clashing, teasing, burning. Enzo should’ve killed him, but instead, he steals him. Holds him. Breaks him open until their craving for each other twists between punishment and pleasure, until need feels like worship, and pain starts to taste like love. Then, when Tate thinks he’s escaped, when he thinks he’s free—Enzo lets him go. When someone else tries to take what’s already his, Enzo doesn’t hesitate. He drags Tate back, and now the boy wears his name, carries his ring, and sleeps in his bed. Maybe Tate should hate him. But he doesn’t. Because he never wanted gentle. He never wanted safe. He wanted this—blinding, consuming desire. And Enzo? He doesn’t let go. Not when he’s tasted him. Marked him. Owned him. Because monsters like him don’t share. Not even with their own blood.

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.