Simon Grace Spiderwick Novels & Stories

" 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."

Warning: 18+ 🔕🔕🔕 Featuring hardcore taboo, filthy age-gap erotica, and the darkest forbidden fantasies that will wreck you for anything else. This is a super steamy boxset loaded with thirty wild stories of raw, dripping desire. Think twisted, sweat-soaked, heart-racing adventures so naughty and intense they'll leave you squirming, gasping, and desperate for more on every page. These aren't cute little love stories, honey. These are straight-up ruthless, rule-breaking romps where older men take total control and younger women melt into the kind of sin that has you soaked and shaking all over. If you're not eighteen or older, close this right now, babe. You're seriously not ready for the fire that's about to hit you.

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

Warning: 18+ Only 🔕🔕🔕 This book is a compilation of two extremely explicit books and intended for adults only. If you are under 18, do not read this. Turn back now. It contains very graphic sexual content, rough scenes, dirty talk, and intense adult situations. ************* I swore I'd never fall for an arrogant bad boy. Especially not the two loud, tattooed, dangerously ripped football gods who just turned my quiet neighborhood into a nonstop party zone. I'm the President's daughter. Prim, polished, and always under the microscope. One wrong move and the entire country explodes. So dating even one filthy-mouthed, possessive athlete would be political suicide. But craving both of them? Letting their rough hands and cocky smirks shatter every rule I've lived by right in the middle of my father's brutal re-election campaign? That's not just a scandal. That's me signing up to be royally, deliciously, twice as screwed. NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real events, people, or places is purely coincidental.

Era and Simon are best friends since childhood. When Era stopped talking to Simon for two years, his heart is left heartbroken and damaged. But Simon knows it's hard to ignore her when she lives right next door and her room is right across his window. And then Era made a mistake, was gone, and now she has to come back and fix their friendship. But that will include all the suffering watching Simon fall in love with someone else.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

Her father's murder was just the beginning. Sold to the Italian mafia as punishment for a betrayal she never committed, Violet Fernandez finds herself imprisoned by Vlad Romano—ruthless heir to a criminal empire that shows no mercy. But the captor who should be her nightmare becomes her unlikely ally when Vlad discovers the truth: Violet was merely a pawn in her father's dangerous double life. Together, they uncover that her father died protecting explosive secrets—information that could bring the cartel to its knees. Now, marked for death and hunted at every turn, Violet and Vlad are forced to flee into shadows where only the most dangerous survive. With each desperate escape, the line blurs between captor and captive, between hatred and a forbidden desire neither can deny. As bullets fly and passion ignites, Violet must decide: is Vlad truly her savior, or is he leading her straight into a trap where there is no escape? Just when freedom seems within reach, a devastating revelation changes everything... "CAPTIVE HEARTS" — Some chains are made of steel. Others are forged by desire.

I happened to come across the filming of a popular variety show, where a celebrity attempted to forcefully take over my greenhouse for a task. After I declined, people watching the live stream subjected me to continuous ridicule.In their relentless quest for higher ratings, the production team deliberately hyped up this matter like crazy.However, when my true identity was revealed, countless students from the Agricultural Academy rallied to defend these crops."Isn't she the expert in crop improvement for saline-alkali soil? My research thesis revolves around her remarkable achievements!""Anyone who dares to tamper with her crops will face dire consequences."

Olivia Simon lost her twin brother, Oliver in a ghastly car accident. Down with heartbreak and loneliness, she ran away from home to her aunt Grace's in Australia. Crying and missing her brother, she decided to become him to ease her pain. Kane Boron, the heir to the MavinTech, known to be cold and arrogant but indeed was looking for a friend happens to hit off with a new guy on his 28 birthday party and they became best of friends. What happens when Olivia notice she was in love with her best friend, how is she going to tell him without him being angry that she deceived him? How is Kane going to cope when he noticed that he was attracted to his friend and really wants to kiss him? What happens to his preference? Is he turning gay? He found himself in a big dilemma with no how to escape.

Nine years into my "non-cohabiting partnership" with Simon, his father passed away. The first condition in his will was simple: Simon and Ella had to conceive a child. On the day the child turned one month old, Simon would inherit his father's fortune. Simon told me this himself—the night I walked in on them tangled in our bed. Afterward, as he took a slow drag from his cigarette, he murmured, "Lily, just wait a little longer. Once I get the inheritance, I'll marry you." But he went back on his word. From then on, every time Simon planned to meet Ella at our house, he would hang a string of bells on the door. Since his father's passing, those bells had chimed ninety-nine times. After the ninety-ninth, the news arrived—Ella was pregnant, and their engagement party was set. My daughter saw the invitation, hesitated, then softly asked, "Mom, is Daddy's name on this?" I forced a smile and gently smoothed her messy hair into a neat ponytail. "Daddy is marrying the one he loves," I said. "And I'm taking you home." Simon never understood—I never cared about that marriage certificate.