Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against The Wall

"Kiara Hart, did you secretly hide some fresh milk? Hand it over now!" My boyfriend's younger brother, Matthew Chambers, pinned me against the wall and ran his hands over me, searching everywhere. He had no idea that the sweet scent was not milk, but...

After spending a night together, Nova never expected to see Damian again. That is, until three months later when their paths crossed once more. “You’re so wet, Nova,” he murmured against my neck, his warm breath fanning over my skin as his lips grazed me. Damian’s nose traced along my jaw before he pressed a slow, possessive kiss under my ear. His hand slid between my thighs, fingers brushing over my slick folds before teasing my clit in slow, deliberate circles. My breath hitched, and his low groan vibrated against my throat. He pushed two fingers inside me, curling them deep as his thumb kept stroking. Heat coiled in my belly, my hips grinding into his touch. I glanced down and caught the sight of his tattooed hand buried in my lacy underwear, moving with skill and hunger. I smirked through a gasp — I loved seeing him there, claiming me like that.

Vega Romeo is the live life, screw the rest type of girl. she is pretty content to just go with the flow until she is dared by her best friend to join in on a bet to make Zach Dante hers. Vega sees Zach Dante as a playboy with no feelings and so she agrees to play him. Vega would do anything to win, even if it meant hurting the one she's come to love. Competing against the other girls is not a walk in the park but Vega had already invested a lot to stop. Except lying came with consequences. And those consequences are more than she expected. But what happens in the past stays in the past right? That might be what Vega thinks, but it is not the same for Zach who bore most of the burn of the scandal. With bitterness In his heart, Zach bids his time in plotting his revenge and after five years, he's back. He's back and he wants nothing more than to destroy the woman who shattered his heart.

On Valentine's Day, I set up a candlelit dinner and waited. At 9 PM, my husband, Alfred Johnston, finally texted. [Something came up at work. Don't wait for me.] Then I saw her post. [On a business trip with the CEO for Valentine's Day. Every hotel is fully booked—awkward...] Vivian Bianca, his secretary. Attached was a photo of a guy in a bathrobe, standing by a floor-to-ceiling window. The comments were all 'ooh, CEO's so hot and girl, you're in for a night.' Vivian? Just dropped a smug emoji. So that's what "something came up" meant—a romantic getaway with his secretary. I screenshotted it, posted it on my own feed, and added a smiling emoji. A second later, Alfred called, fuming. "Vivian was joking! Why are you so petty? She's young, not as calculating as you!" I didn't let him finish. "Then let's get a divorce. That way, I won't have to care when you screw around and catch something."

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

An erotic thriller that is part Fifty Shades of Grey and part Sweet Little Lies, with a character driven exploration of pleasure, sensuality, infinite eroticism and political repercussions.Thirty-four year old Emma Hamilton’s life is comfortable and predictable, right up to the moment she reluctantly enters “The Ranch”, an exclusive club where the wives of the ultra-rich and powerful surrender all inhibitions to meet every tantalizing desire. Far outside her element, Emma is initially swept away by the secret society that promises community, infinite eroticism and the fulfillment of every sexual desire limited only by the imagination. However, she soon discovers that her afternoon of pleasure comes at a shockingly high price. The more she learns about the “members only” club, the more she realizes the dangers lurking just behind the faade of sexual indulgence. With her family, life and the career of one of the most promising politicians in the country on the line, Emma goes up against a cadre of powerful players hell bent on silencing her before she destroys them all.The Fantasy Maker is created by Emily Kendricks, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

"Don't ever let me smell another man on you Kitten." He pinned me up against the wall holding my hands above my head. "You are...... mine Only mine." ------------------------------------- Rafael Santigo Montez, heir to The Montez Mafia. On the streets he's known as The Shiv. Deadly with his hands and even deadlier with a blade in them, he is not the one to fuck with. Isadora Fiorella Cortez, a feisty little new comer that has just applied to work fora strip club called The Silver Paw. Little does she know that not only is her boss panty dropping hot, but he's in the mafia. Tables take a turn when she bumps into him on her first night working as a server.

Moira wasn't the Luna he wanted. To strengthen the alliance, her father sacrificed her with a classic trap so that she could marry Alpha Jude Hammer from The Night Hunter Pack. The plan worked, but for seven years, Moira felt no happiness or love from Jude. Then, one day, she finds out the reason—Jude has found his fated mate. Heartbroken, especially since she had lost everything, Moira filed for divorce, left the company, and started a new life. *** I was startled by the commotion outside the apartment. It was unusually quiet for eight o’clock, and the sound I heard... I decided to check it out. Someone was standing at the door, which I opened hastily to confirm. Instead of peace, I found a new problem. Jude held the door, forcing his way in and locking it. He closed the distance between us, pinning me against the wall, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, so stiff and tight. My heart skipped a beat, not because of lingering love for him, but because I felt disturbed by his presence. "What the hell are you doing here, Jude? You have Bella, don't drag me in. You shouldn't be here," I snapped, but it didn't faze him at all. "Screw Bella! I came to confirm something." He moved again, closer, so that our lips almost touched. “Are you drunk? Go home. You will only cause me problems. We'd been divorced, remember?” I said, trying to gently push him away. “What? Divorced? Don’t even think about it, Wifey. I didn't sign it. NEVER. Means, you’re still my wife. You're MINE.”

"Mommy, Mommy! Look at that mister! Will I be as handsome as him when I grow up?" Liam's question forced me to look at where his finger pointed. "Holy f—" I cut myself off, trying not to curse in front of my son. Why, why, why did I have to run into Alexander Ravenford as soon as I walked out of the airport?! Among the millions of people living in New York, I surely didn't want to meet one—Liam's biological father. Five years ago, my scumbag of a boyfriend cheated on me, and I decided to go on a genuinely therapeutic weekend in the Bahamas. I wasn't looking for a rebound, but somehow I ended up spending a decent amount of time having sex with a man who was basically a stranger—a divinely hot, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously irresistible Alexander Ravenford. The morning after brought a disappointing hit in the gut, which assured me that for my Prince Charming, I was only a one-time adventure. But screw that, and screw him! I had plans. I was ready to pursue my dreams and study in London. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball... I was pregnant, and Alex was the only possible father. I didn't give up. I came back as a successful interior designer and the mother of an amazing boy, Liam. I thought that I would be able to avoid Alexander, but it turned out to be almost impossible. But then it got worse… The arrogant, annoying, and even hotter than before CEO of a multibillion-dollar company became friends with my son—his son! And I have a feeling that the sweet little devil who calls me "Mommy" has a mischievous plan to bring his parents together. Should I give this insane relationship a chance?

“You.” I snapped my head up. A naked man marched into the kitchen. Heat rushed to my face. The man draped in tattoos and bronze skin glared at me. “What are you doing here?” I squeaked. “I should be the one asking you that.” He closed the gap between us, and his body slammed against mine, pinning me against the door. His hand wrapped around my neck. I dug my nails into his flesh but he didn’t flinch. “You’re with the Red Claw pack aren’t you?” He sneered and tightened his hold. “Screw…you,” I rasped. “Ezra,” Dad barked. “What?” “Put her down. She’s my daughter.” His hold loosened and I dropped to the floor. I held my neck and glared at him. “You have an eighteen-year-old daughter?” Alpha Ezra asked. Dad shrugged, “Twenty, but yes.” Summer is on the run from her former Alpha, and seeks refuge with her estranged Father. She hides a secret that could get her killed so the one person she must stay away from is the one she's drawn to the most. Alpha Ezra is sort of her Dad's best friend and logically off-limits but soon the lines between them blur and before they know it the desire is too hot to put out. Summer's past catches up with her and the only option is to cheat fate or repeat history. Ezra and Summer must work together or risk being ripped apart.