Smoke Screen

In the eighth year of our secret office marriage, Marvin lit up every LED screen in Ocean City, just to make his little assistant smile. Amidst the well-wishes from everyone, the assistant cheerfully handed out gifts to the entire office. I casually tossed my gift into the trash. The assistant immediately ran to Marvin's office, tears streaming down her face, to report me. Moments later, Marvin, furious, suspended me from my position. As I walked out of the company building, Marvin's voice echoed from the loudspeakers on the top floor. "Celebrating Wendy's successful completion of her work, the gift is ready!" Wendy—was the assistant's name. As I watched the crowd rush past me, I calmly cut all ties with Marvin. This hidden marriage had come to an end.

He’s older, wiser and powerful. And when he calls you sunshine, sunray, baby, everything else fades. They don’t beg. They command. From ruthless kings to sinful CEOs, professors to possessive strangers behind the screen, these Daddies know what they want. And what they want… is you. Each short story in Daddy's Obsession (Filthy Daddies Collection) is a wicked blend of heat, heart, and hunger, where lust collides with dominance, and soft affection turns savage behind closed doors. Whether you crave gentle protection or rough hands on your throat, this Daddy's collection has one rule: Once he chooses you, there’s no escape. A collection of short, steamy, intense erotic stories, each featuring a dominant Daddy. Rated 18+ You’ve been warned.

Three years ago, my rich boyfriend, Steven Delaney, went into bankruptcy. He decided to break up with me so that he wouldn't drag me down. As I looked at his broken expression, I steeled my heart and ripped the overseas college application I had just received. "I'll stay with you. Together, we can rebuild your legacy." Everyone told me that I was nuts. Still, I decided to move into a damp basement room with Steven. After that, I took on a job out in the streets that allowed me to earn money the fastest, which was promoting beer to the customers. One day, when I'm delivering beer to the customers, one of them calls out to me. "Hey, this lady looks like you!" There are two screens being shown on a livestream, that's being replayed. The left screen shows me crouching at the doorway of the basement while washing shirts for Steven. It's so cold that my fingers have gone completely red. The right screen shows him all dressed up in a smart-looking suit. He has an arm wrapped around a beautiful and well-dressed woman, and they're both sitting in a luxury car. Steven smiles at the camera and says, "This is my third year lying to my girlfriend about my financial situation. Till now, she still hasn't realized the truth! She really is a pathetic idiot!" The live comments keep popping up on the side. "You really know how to make things interesting, Mr. Delaney! I can't believe you're capable of coming up with the whole 'pretending to be broke in order to test your girlfriend's humanity' act!" "What exactly is that lady aiming for, honestly? She's just someone who sells beer! Does she seriously think she's in a romance drama?" "Oh, this is hilarious! That penniless girlfriend of his is even washing underwear for him! The truth is, the underwear belongs to the Delaney family's household staff!"

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.

What are the odds that you are dared to send a random text to a stranger? And, what are the odds that the stranger happens to be someone you would never have imagined in your wildest fantasies?Well, the odds are in Chloe's favor. A text conversation which starts as a dare takes a one eighty degree turn when the person behind the screen turns out to be the cockiest, most arrogant, annoying asshat. Despite all this; the flirting, the heart to heart conversations and the late night musings are something they become accustomed to and something which gradually opens locked doors...but, that's not all. To top it all off, the guy just might happen to be in the same school and have a reputation for a overly skeptical identity..."What are you hiding?""An awesome body, beneath these layers of clothing ;)"But, who knows what Noah is really hiding and what are the consequences of this secret?Cover by my girl @messylilac :)❤️

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

Penelope Rivera's little boy toy, Theodore Schneider, is throwing another tantrum. She slides the divorce papers across the table toward me. "Just sign them for show. It's to keep Teddy happy." I clench the cuff of my suit and nod in silence. I sign my name in one swift stroke. As I'm walking out, I hear one of her girlfriends teasing, "Samuel's way too easygoing. Does he actually do everything you say?" Penelope takes a graceful sip of red wine and smirks. "Wanna bet?" They bet that I will quietly go through with the divorce at the courthouse, even if my eyes are red with tears. Listening their laughter, I rub my thumb over my phone screen and reply to the message I've just received. "Will you marry me?" it says. "I will."

For three years, Evelyn lived a lie wrapped in luxury. Her marriage to the cold and powerful Lucian Blackwood was supposed to be a mere business arrangement—a thirty-six-month contract to save her family from ruin. But as the days turned into years, the lines between duty and desire blurred. Evelyn fell for the man who remembered her favorite meals, protected her from the cold, and ensured her medicine was always at hand. She believed that beneath his obsidian gaze, a real heart had begun to beat for her. The illusion shatters on the night of their third anniversary at the Blackwood Estate. With the stroke of midnight and the smell of acrid smoke, Lucian presents her with the Decree of Divorce. The crushing truth is revealed: every gesture of affection, every moment of "domestic bliss," was never about Evelyn. It was a lingering habit from his past with Sarah, his first love who has finally returned to the city. Evelyn wasn't a wife; she was a rehearsal.

“Please, let me go…” I cried while he kept walking forward towards me, making me shiver more. While his eyes fixated on me, he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply while I gulped. As he exhaled, a slow stream of smoke escaped his lips, dissipating into the air and he started, “You shouldn’t have done that… You did a big mistake” “I am sorry…” I cried again and shook my head. “It’s done. It’s time for the punishment now…” He said and my heart skipped a beat. . Allison Wesley was living a normal life as a journalist until she gets involved into a task which leads her to slap the mafia boss in town. Her one mistake gets her life upside down as she enters the world of thrill, excitement, passion and danger. Read on to find out more!

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.