Skel Suit Novels & Stories

Cocky , arrogant , charming and deadly , Dante Romano is a monster dressed in a perfectly tailored suit of a gentleman . Driven by the tragedies of the past he can't escape , his ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance have little use for morals and even less for love , for anyone, even for his fiance . But he can't deny the strange pull he feels towards his fiance from the day she came back after running away from him . Something , everything seems to have changed about her and now suddenly he is tempted by her , she's his darkest desire , his every depraved fantasy , he wants to protect her from everything and everyone . But all he wants at the same time is to ruin her . Take her . Because she is his . His obsession . His Love . **** Outgoing , sweet , compassionate and strong - willed , Lily Singh is a hopeless romantic who keeps her heart in a cage , starting college , tired of her life , trying to find an escape . She has little time for desire , love and relationship but with her trust issues and fear of getting hurt and having a broken heart she is left all alone with her dirty mind . When one day she suddenly ran into her doppelganger , Mia Mancini tired of her life just like lily , they caught up together talking and knowing things about each other going deep and curious about each other's life . Lilly then offers Mia a deal she can not refuse , a Secret Switch of their lives for a month , without anyone knowing . As Lily takes on her new role , she must also hide her desire for the man she can't have . Not so hers to take fiance . Her forbidden fruit . Her ultimate ruin Their love is unexpected and forbidden , but what we can say , afterall forbidden fruit tempts the most .

She loved him to the core, and from the age of four, a name called Neil Davis took residence in her heart. For the sake of his precarious career, she even went so far as to bear children for the unfamiliar Wilson couple. Twenty years of silent devotion led to him kneeling before another woman, promising her a lifetime commitment. No one knew she was the other half on his marriage certificate, trapped in a marriage that existed only in name for many years. "Neil, you'll never know what I've sacrificed for loving you!" "Then never tell me." With that, he coldly walked away, leaving her to sit alone in the living room until dawn. It was her twenty-fourth birthday, and the divorce agreement and a five million dollar check were his gifts to her. * Married for six years, she never imagined that one day, while he indulged in passion with his "fiancée" in bed, she would be curled up in the wardrobe, losing her virginity beneath another man! She was completely naked, while the man was impeccably dressed in a suit. He forced her to peer through the crack to witness the frenzied scene on the bed. "Same position, same frequency. Guess, between him and me, who will climax first?" The man's tone was serious, and under her startled gaze, he thrust even harder, penetrating deeper. "I love you, Neil!" She bit her lip tightly, but the ecstatic cries of Neil's "fiancée" from outside the wardrobe blurred her vision. Life is so ironic— While he was making love to other women, she was hiding in the closet having an affair with that woman's uncle, Mr. Wilson. After the divorce, a child in a little suit, resembling herself and Mr. Wilson, barged into her peaceful life.

Fuck, look at you,” he growled, backing her against the desk, voice low and rough. “Sitting in my class every day with that innocent little smile while your pussy’s soaked for your brother’s best friend.” She whimpered as his hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher. “Tell me, baby,” he rasped against her ear, teeth grazing her pulse, “how many times have you touched yourself thinking about your professor bending you over this desk and ruining you?” Her breath hitched. “Too many…” He chuckled darkly, fingers teasing the edge of her panties. “Good girl. Because tonight I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me when you’re sitting in my lecture tomorrow, trying not to moan my name in front of everyone.” --- He teaches by day… and rules the road by night. Fleeing New Orleans was supposed to be Nirvana Hale’s fresh start. She was finally going to meet Adrian Cross; her brother’s best friend and the voice that had comforted her through her darkest nights. But the man waiting for her in New York is a stranger. He’s the lethal enforcer of a notorious motorcycle club, a man who treats her like a burden to be locked away. Just as Nirvana begins to hate the man she once adored, the world shifts again. On her first day at Rodrigo University, she walks into her lecture hall to find Adrian standing at the podium. In a crisp suit and glasses, Professor Cross is composed, brilliant, and completely off-limits. Now, Nirvana is trapped in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. By day, he's the teacher who refuses to look her in the eye. By night, he’s the biker who makes her pulse race.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.

WARNING! Mature Contents!!! A one-night stand of hot unprotected sex filled with passion and desire and Tiffany West and Lorenzo Russo's lives intertwine forever. Tiffany has no idea her stepfather owes the Cosa Nostra money and she's been used to repay the debt with an arranged marriage to Demirci, a member of the Turkish Mafia. And then there's him. The devil with a handsome face and nice tailored suit and a heart as black as tar. Lorenzo Russo. He's the man she lusts after and loathes more than anything— his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance, and too too-perceptive eyes. He's ability to see through her disguise to the broken girl she is has her infuriated. He's the embodiment of darkness and probably one of the most dangerous men in the world but she has no idea she's his frustration and fascination. Nowhere in Lorenzo Russo plan had he ever prepared for Tiffany. She's his opposite in every way… and the greatest temptation he's ever known. The breathing definition of everything he didn't want. She laughs too loud. She talks so much. She's clearly not his type, but still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her wherever she goes and thinking about their night of wild sex. After a wild party where Tiffany clearly had too many drinks. She wakes up next to Lorenzo wearing his ring. His wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to Lorenzo Russo, a Mafia don. Now she's forced to live with him. Sleep next to him. Be a wife to him. It didn't take long before shadows of the past comes knocking in the face of Salvatore Russo, the devil of a father that orders the murder of his sons. Now he's out to destroy the one thing Lorenzo Russo seems to obsess about, Tiffany West.

“Hmm... Rhea, is it? Nice name.” I froze as I heard the husky voice, and I felt tremors running down my spine. I slowly raised my head and met the bluest eyes I had ever seen... Bluer than the ocean… So blue that they seemed to twinkle like twin pools of sapphire. I ran my eyes over his entire figure. He was wearing a suit but didn’t look like the typical businessmen. For one thing, he was not clean shaved, and had a five o’clock shadow on his face. And I couldn’t figure out if his hair was stylishly messed up, or he just didn’t bother to do anything with it at all. Either way, it looked good. Too good! And those lips.. I was brought out of my fantasies when those oh so kissable lips turned up into a smirk. Uh huh! I bit my lips, trying to bring myself out of the lust-filled haze I was falling into. There was just something about him, something so magnetic that I was losing all control of my thoughts. There seemed to be an aura of power and danger surrounding him. If I didn’t know any better, the one word I would say was ‘otherworldly’... but I knew better and just stopped myself in time from uttering the words ‘What are you?’. ------------------- From the day she woke up without memories two years ago, Rhea had always thought she was a normal human girl. What happens when she realises she was never a human, but a goddess? Suddenly her once boring life becomes all too exciting when she finds herself in the middle of Gods, demons, and a mysterious wolf protector. Add a handsome stranger whom she can’t seem to get her mind away from, Rhea is in for a lot more than she bargained for...

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

After I remarry my wife, Vivian Crowell, I decide to rent her out to other men. When her male best friend, Elliot Everhart, summons her away from me, I no longer kick up a fuss about it. Instead, I charge Vivian by the hour. The rent is 10 thousand dollars per hour during the day, whereas it'll be 20 thousand dollars per hour at night. If it's a holiday, all prices will be tripled. After running my new business for three months, I now have an additional 20 million dollars in my account. Although Vivian has promised to pick out my suit for the banquet with me, Elliot calls her and complains about how he's nicked his finger with a knife when he was cutting vegetables. I don't even bother raising my head as I hand my bank account number over to Vivian. One midnight, I suddenly suffer from a fever. When Vivian is driving me to the hospital, Elliot calls her and claims that he can't sleep due to discomfort caused by his intoxication. I merely pull out my umbrella fluently and tell Vivian to drop me off at the junction ahead. Upon noticing her hesitation, I just smile at her. "Don't forget to transfer the payment to me." On the day our son, Victor Carrington, is going for his regular follow-up appointment, Elliot calls Vivian once again. "Eleanor wants to go to the amusement park. It'll only be fun when we have a woman to accompany us there." After Vivian ends the call, she turns around and is about to crouch down to explain everything to Victor when she sees him mimicking my actions by sticking out his hand at her. "It's fine, Mommy. You can just pay us. But today's rate is the triple kind."