Novel & Cerita Short Psychological Thriller Books

He returns to the office just in time, only to find his client waiting impatiently. As Welbeck begins his presentation, he feels more anxious. The client seems distracted, and Welbeck has a hard time maintaining focus. Suddenly, the client gives him a strange book and asks him to read it. Welbeck was taken aback by this sudden request but decided to comply with it, thinking it might be related to the project they were working on. As he tries to make sense of the mystical knowledge gained from the book, Welbeck finds himself drawn into a world of conspiracies and secrets. He soon realizes that he's not the only one who has stumbled upon the book's hidden secrets, and his life is in grave dang

His fingers were slightly rough from work, sending shivers racing up her spine. Mia’s heart hammered wildly in her chest. *This is Sophie’s dad,* she thought, panic mixing with a deep, aching desire. *We shouldn’t be doing this. Sophie could walk in any second.* But her body betrayed her. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands clutching the front of his t-shirt, pulling him even closer.

Dark Temptations – Men who don’t just touch… they claim. Pleasure & Power – Games where surrender is as dangerous as resistance. BDSM & Forbidden Kinks – Chains, blindfolds, rules… and the wicked thrill of breaking them. Primal Possession – Being chased, caught, and taken until you can’t breathe without wanting more. Obsession That Burns – Love that feels like fire, beautiful, consuming, impossible to escape. This is not for the faint or the shy. It will touch you in places no one else dares, leave you burning, and keep you wanting long after the last page.

The apartment felt smaller with him in it. I sat on my couch, pretending to read a book I'd already forgotten the title of, listening to the sound of water running through pipes. Jamie was in the shower. In my shower. Using my soap, my towels, standing where I stood every morning. The water stopped. My fingers tightened on the pages. Footsteps crossed the hallway. A door opened, then closed. Silence settled again, but it was the wrong kind—the kind that pressed against your ribs and made you count your own heartbeats.

“Clean yourself up. Go back out there and act as if nothing happened.” He unlocked the door and slipped out first. I stood there on shaky legs, ass sore and full of his load, my heart still racing from how close we’d come to getting caught. This was getting more dangerous every time. And I was already addicted.

Fear gnawed at her sanity, the shadows in her room now alive with potential threats. Down the hall, Marcus pressed his ear to the wall, convinced he could hear movement. Daniel sat by the office window, watching the street, eyes darting to every passing shadow. Lena moved silently from room to room, checking locks, making notes, and yet her calmness only unnerved them more.

his throat bobbed, “maybe strong on the outside, but is very broken on the inside. I have nightmares and I barely get any sleep. I’m afraid of blood, even though I don’t admit it. Even though I see it daily. I kill and then pray, hoping it would wash my sins away and I keep my emotions off because that’s the only way I can go through with all of this.” He closed his eyes, probably to stop me from reading any kind of emotion in them. “But look at me. Here I am. Being a selfish asshole by dragging you into my life, when I know I should warn you to run for the hills.” I didn’t want to run. Not anymore. He was worth it. He was worth so many things, more than I could give him. I only wanted to se

" I nodded and then turned to leave the building. The evening air was cool, but it did little to alleviate my growing unease. I walked quickly toward my car, my heels clicking against the pavement in hurried, nervous beats. Just as I reached for the door handle, a shadow moved in my peripheral vision. Before I had a chance to utter even a word, a hand clamped over my mouth. A sickly sweet scent filled my nostrils as fabric pressed against my face—a handkerchief soaked in something strong. My body jerked in panic, my hands clawing at the iron grip. My vision blurred and went dark. ---

Always. I like to leave subtle reminders that I’m there. Moving items just enough to unsettle them, but not enough to make them scream for help. A book pulled off the shelf. A piece of jewelry placed somewhere it shouldn’t be. These small actions drive them to paranoia, make them question their own sanity. They become obsessed with locking doors, checking windows, doubting everything around them. By the time they realize they’re not imagining things, they’re already spiraling into fear and helplessness.

Hell yes, we are. This book is your permission slip to stop overthinking. Forget logic. Forget consequences. Forget whether the logistics of that position actually make sense on a moving motorcycle. (Spoiler: they don’t. But we’re doing it anyway.) Let go. These novellas are built for pleasure. Yours. Whether you’re here for the slow burn or the instant heat, the enemies-to-lovers bickering or the sweet surrender, there’s something inside these pages to curl your toes and leave your pulse a little faster than it was before.