Silk Touch Axe

“What did you say?” “I said that if you won’t touch me and make me yours, then maybe someone should.” To my surprise, Archie smirked at me and his gaze drifted to my lips. “No one’s ever going to touch you but me, Rosie.” *** Rosie Fay is the daughter of the mafia, so she is used to being surrounded by guns, sulky men, and dangerous deals. But her father thought she shouldn’t lead things after he was gone, so he made a deal and offered her hand in marriage to Archie Donovan. The arranged marriage wasn’t the problem though—Archie was. He treated her well and took care of her, but that’s all their relationship entailed. No romantic strings attached. But they clearly liked each other, so why did he always push her away? As the tension between them intensified, the dangers around the family increased. Was happiness even a possibility for them? Or would the mafia life take that away from her? Daughter of the Mafia is created by Rafaella Dutra, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Crimson Series 1: Selene, a runaway witch with a body built for sin and a past soaked in blood, never believed in fate—until she accidentally binds herself to the one creature she’s forbidden to touch: Alpha Kael Draven, ruthless leader of the Nightshade Pack. When desire turns deadly and secrets unravel in bed and battle, Selene must decide if her pleasure is worth the price of her soul.

" I hate you." his piercing gaze on me darkened. "Hate me all you want,that, doesn't change the fact that you belong to me." Gripping my chin, his eyes challenge me to deny it. I take a step back, his grip on my hair tightens, as his lips graze against mine "Never ever deny me your touch wife."

“I said where did he touch you?” Aaron walk towards with his dangerous aura as sniffs in anger scanning my body with his eyes like he was trying to find some hickeys and marks of touches on me. “You are mine, mine and nobody touches what belong to me. Bring that bastard in”Aaron said for me to start tearing up as I felt stupid for running away.

#R18 She does nothing but melts at his touch, crave for every inch of his shaft. His fingertips are like magic, trailing her soft skin like ushers of the wind. It's hard to resist his touch and when he thrusts in her? She doesn't want him to stop. **** Amelia's life spiraled into misery when she got caught in the webs of slavery by the ruthless mafia Don, Alessandro DeMarco. As a punishment for trying to infiltrate his mafia organisation, he made her his slave and she was bound to work for him forever. Amelia struggled with the pain of betrayal and mistrust. Her boyfriend, who claimed to love her led her into the webs of destruction and even betrayed her when he ought to stand in for her. Amelia accepted her fate and agreed to work for the Don but as she continued to work for him as a loyal servant, she remained his assets; one bound forever to the Deadly mafia Don. What happens when love trips in? Will Alessandro be able to control his feelings for her? Will Amelia suppress the urge to keep spreading her legs for the Mafia Don as he always made her wet!

She thought it was just a wounded animal. Until he turned into the most dangerous man she’s ever seen... right in her living room. Dr. Elena Voss was just trying to save a dying dog. She didn’t expect him to shift into a scarred, growling Alpha who claims they’re fated... and that her touch is the only thing keeping his curse from killing him. He’s not just a werewolf. He’s the cursed Alpha of a collapsing pack. And she’s not just human—she’s an Empath, the last of a bloodline so powerful it was wiped out. Now? Everyone wants her dead. Hunters are closing in. Witches want her blood. And Kael—the dark, broken Alpha—wants her in every way imaginable. His body is addicted to her. Her power answers only to him. And every second she spends with him? She's one heartbeat closer to losing herself completely. But breaking his curse might kill her. Loving him definitely will. One touch awakened the bond. One lie could end everything. And the next blood moon? Could be her last.

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

“You’re paid to protect me, not touch me,” Aria snapped, backing into the velvet wall of the limousine. Aria Kingsley had been kissed before. But never like this. Not against the cold wall of her father’s mansion. Not by the one man sworn to guard her body, not steal it. Aria has been raised like a jewel in a glass box—perfect, untouchable, and suffocated by her father’s power. When a threat against her life surfaces, Damon Cross, a brooding ex-special forces soldier with scars he doesn’t talk about, is hired as her personal bodyguard. Aria hates his rules. Damon hates her defiance. But the more they clash, the hotter the tension burns. Every stolen glance, every forbidden touch threatens to destroy the walls between them. Yet Damon’s past is as dangerous as Aria’s future. Enemies close in, secrets unravel, and passion becomes a risk neither can afford. In a world where loyalty can be bought and betrayal is inevitable, one question remains— Can Aria survive falling in love with the one man she was never meant to have?

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

“He pressed me to the wall with one hand tight around my throat, the other sliding beneath the thin silk clinging to my skin. I should’ve been begging for help. Instead, my knees went weak when he leaned in, his mouth hot against my ear. ‘Does it hurt, darling?’ he whispered. I shook my head, even as his fingers left bruises. ‘Good. I like it when you take it.’ God, I hated him. God, I wanted him to never let go.” A DARK, EROTIC TALE OF OBSESSION, HUMILIATION, AND HUNGER. They called him the Devil, a sadist with a crooked smile and hands built for breaking men. In the underworld’s most perverse auction, Luca Ruelle is nothing but trembling prey, sold for a price no soul should fetch. Silk-wrapped, bare, choking on shame and smoke, he should be praying for rescue. But Kain Astor doesn’t rescue. He claims, corrupts, and devours. He teaches Luca how it feels to be owned. How pain can bloom where fear lives. How pleasure is just another kind of cruelty. Every command is a dare, every punishment a promise. Under Kain’s hands, Luca learns the exquisite agony of surrender, and the terror of how badly he needs it. He should be fighting for his life. Instead, he’s sinking to his knees, eyes glazed, lips parted, whispering the one word that seals his fate— “Please.”