Soft Boyfriends Novels & Stories

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

"Tell me you don't want this, Vivianne..." Noah's breath warmed against my skin, his finger dragging against my aching clit, and his eyes locked on me. "I'll stop if you tell me to..." My waist arch, a soft moan slipping off my lips as he pushed two fingers inside me, a smirk curling at his lips. I should push him away... I should curse him, but I couldn't. My body betrayed me. I wanted him, I hated to admit it. How could my body want the same man who ruined my life? "No... Noah..." My breath stuttered, nails digging into the bed as desire washed over me. "Do... don't... touch... argh! Right ther...e... Fuck! Please don't stop..." "Where, V... Tell me where you want me to touch." He fingers moved inside me, teasing my inside. "Ri...right there... Fuck!" My hips jerked up, pussy throbbing with pleasure, walls tightening on his fingers... right before my orgasm tore through me...

Trigger Warnings: This is dark, not soft romance. Expect BDSM, breeding kink, power play, rough sex, omega submission, orgasm denial, impact play, primal rut/heat, age-gap obsession, violence, and depraved scenes. Read at your own risk. ~~~~~ I spent two years grooming myself into the perfect omega for the man who rejected me: the deadliest SSS+ Alpha alive. Marcus Kane—my father’s best friend, old enough to be my uncle—wants no children, but only a woman dark enough to take his brutality. So I became her. If he craves a throat that swallows his cock or cum without complaint, thighs that spread for his waist to occupy, or a body begging through pain and filth… I’ll give it all. But he still fucks other omegas. Never me. Then danger stalks us when my father’s research puts a target on our backs and shadowy enemies are looming, leaving Marcus as our only shield. I had to move into his penthouse. And now, I’m done waiting. I will have him. The Alpha who swore he would never claim me is ready to burn the world before anyone takes what is his—ME!

“Beg properly,” he growled. “Please, Daddy,” I cried, voice breaking. “Please fuck your little brat’s tight pussy. I’ve been so bad—punish me with your cock. Stretch me open and fill me up. I’ll be good, I promise—just please fuck me hard.” At home, where secret desires burn hot, WET FOR DADDY brings you a hot collection of forbidden stories. Young stepdaughters grow up under the strong gaze of their powerful stepdaddies. Soon, care turns into raw hunger and wild need. From the busy boss who takes his naughty stepdaughter on his big desk, to the tough rancher who shows his curious girl how to ride more than horses — these tales dive deep into naughty, throbbing lust. Every soft “good girl,” every firm hand, and every secret night touch leads to explosive pleasure that breaks all the rules. Steamy, bold, and deliciously wrong, this book gives you pure taboo fun that will leave you wet, breathless, and wanting more. Give in to your darkest stepdaddy dreams — no shame, just hot, dripping fantasy.

**This book is the second book in the Billionaire series. It can be read as a standalone novel, but it is highly suggested that you read The Billionaire’s First Glance prior to this novel.** I, Zander Cavanaugh, the all-American football quarterback, have done something that could get me killed. I fell in love with the brilliant, curvy mafia princess Isabella Aventini at first sight. Everything about Isabella called to me: her captivating blue eyes, her soft caramel skin, every dip and curve of her voluptuous body was just the start. Isabella was smart, kind, and funny. The kind of girl you can’t help but fall in love with. I know she felt the same way as I did. We were drawn together like magnets, but that’s not how the mafia works. Isabella is a commodity to be sold or brokered for the sake of alliances and has been promised to the ruthless and cutthroat DeMarco family since birth — a fate she neither wants nor needs. Isabella’s father, Mafia Don Salvatore Aventini, has managed to keep us apart by sending Isabella away to finish high school. However, when fates aligned, Isabella not only ended up attending the same university as me, but she’s also my college-assigned tutor. I know there is no chance for us, and still I fell in love with her, knowing it could mean my death.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I made a special trip to the salon to have my hair done. While settling the bill, I noticed an extra charge on my account. It was a coloring and perm package. Judging by the price, it was a package meant for waist-length hair. Mine had been cropped short for seven or eight years. I called my husband, Jason Moore. "Have you used my salon membership card recently?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he laughed lightly, "Oh, I lent it to Quincy a few days ago." Quincy Hahn was his business partner, a fine arts student with long hair. She treasured her natural curls more than anything. She would never be willing to dye or perm it. More importantly, her elder sister was a major shareholder of this salon. Why would she ever need to use my card? I said nothing more and ended the call. Then, I headed straight to a location displayed on my phone. In the cafe, a long-haired lady was nestled in Jason's arms. Her freshly permed curls were soft and bouncy, framing her blushed face with certain demureness. Jason had always complained that my short hair made me look rough and manly. I lacked gentleness and charm. It seemed this long-haired lady suited his tastes perfectly.

“It was supposed to be fake… until it wasn’t.” Elena Ramirez was never supposed to catch Adrian Harrington’s attention — billionaire CEO, untouchable, and dangerously charming. One moment, she’s a struggling intern juggling bills and caring for her younger sister, Maya… the next, she’s signing a contract that turns her entire world upside down. The deal is simple: pretend to be his girlfriend. No feelings. No complications. No lines crossed. But Adrian Harrington doesn’t do simple. One gala. One stolen glance. One soft touch that lingers too long… and suddenly, the line between pretend and real begins to blur. The media calls her a gold digger. Socialites like Clara Vance want her gone. Paparazzi stalk her every move, and Elena finds herself drowning in a world of secrets, lies, and scandals she never asked for. And then — the contract leaks. Every signature. Every clause. Every proof that her “relationship” with Adrian is nothing more than a carefully staged performance. Now the entire city is watching, waiting for her to break. But Elena refuses to be their victim. Because somewhere between the chaos and the cameras, Adrian’s cold walls are cracking… and the one thing more dangerous than pretending to love him is realizing she actually might. Fake dating. Real feelings. Endless betrayal. Some lies build empires. Others break hearts.

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

One night before our engagement, Darren Finch insisted on throwing a singles party aboard a cruise ship. He made it clear I wasn't invited. But in the middle of the night, I got a call saying he'd fallen overboard. Panic overtook me. Feverish and disoriented, I stumbled to the deck and dove into the sea without a second thought. The night waters were icy, sapping the strength from my limbs. As I was pulled back onto the deck, shivering and soaked, I heard laughter ring out from the crowd. Carrie Specter, Darren's childhood sweetheart, stood above me. She gave a soft, lilting laugh. "Seeing how far you're willing to go for Darren... I can finally hand him over to you without worry." At that, Darren wrapped an arm smugly around her waist. "Carrie, you really do know me best." "I told you," she beamed, "Paula would pass your test." I let out a cold laugh, slipped the engagement ring from my finger, and flung it at his face. "No, thanks. I wish you two eternal bliss. Just don't ever drag me into your drama again."

The day I was released from prison was New Year's Eve. My fiancée had promised to pick me up. Instead, she was busy ringing in the New Year with the man she had always loved. By the time I found my way back home from memory, she was in the middle of a cheering crowd, wrapped in his arms. "Nancy, Samuel's getting out today. Aren't you going to pick him up?" someone asked. Nancy Wheeler let out a soft laugh, her red lips curling slightly. "Pick him up? What's more important, him or New Year's? He's been in there for years. One more day won't kill him." "Aren't you afraid he'll be angry?" Colder than the wind and snow outside were Nancy's indifferent words. "He's the one who made a mistake. What right does he have to be angry? The fact that I was still willing to be with him was already a mercy." As the words left her mouth, she lifted her gaze, only to meet mine. The smile froze on her face. The cold light from inside fell across me, and something in my heart froze with it. She said she was still willing to have me. However, I no longer wanted her.