Soft Boyfriends

+++✦+++ She looked up at me with those soft, damn eyes. I stepped in closer, my hand lifting before I even thought it through, and I brushed the tips of my fingers against her cheek. Warm. Delicate. Curious. I watched her mouth part slightly, her lashes lowering just a bit. "Can I kiss you?" I heard myself say. It surprised me. I don’t ask. I take. But she wasn’t like anyone else. With her, I found myself wanting permission...wanting her to want me back. She blinked, caught off guard, but something in her softened. And after a breath, she slowly nodded. I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers in a gentle and slow motion, like I was trying to memorize her taste, savoring the moment. But, that one kiss was enough to set my nerves on edge. I pulled back slightly, watching the way her cheeks turned pink, her eyes wide, her lips still parted like she hadn’t expected it to feel like that. And fuck, I hadn’t either. I leaned in again, but paused when I realized she was leaning toward me too, unconsciously. She didn’t even realize she wanted more. And this time, I didn’t ask. +++✦+++ In a city plagued by crime and violence, a young woman fights to stay hidden from her sadistic stepfather and his ruthless gang. In her journey to uncover the truth about her forgotten past, she crosses paths with a dangerous and mysterious stranger in the most unexpected manner. Together, they embrace their twisted fate by striking a deal and altering their lives through a tale of romance and mystery. +++✦+++ ✦ 𝐷𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛. ✦ +++✦+++

Lost in my desires, I pulled him in, taking his lips in mine. Sucking on his lower lip, I bit him slightly as my tongue searched for his. His hands moved to my thighs as he caressed them softly. The graze of his fingers sent sparks through my body as he lifted me in his arms. Walking towards the bed, he placed me gently. Leaning in slowly, he sniffed my neck, engulfing my scent in his senses. Trailing his lips on the side of my face to my lips, he took mine viciously as I let out soft moans in between our kiss. His hands navigated my body as his fingers explored my curves wildly. Drawing away from my lips slowly, he traced my face with his lips, making his way to my ear. His voice a deep whisper, "You asked for this." ...***... After a whirlwind night of betrayal and heartbreak, Maya seeks a fresh start in California. Desperate for a job, she lands a position as a secretary for Adrian Steele—the man from that fateful night. Just as she believes her past is behind her, long-buried secrets resurface, throwing her life into chaos. Will Maya find true love, or will the turmoil of her past leave her disillusioned? Will the hidden truths be unveiled, or remain shrouded in mystery? Read to find out

A Biker/Billionaire/Mafia Romance With my fingers gliding across his flesh, I kept contact as I moved around to his back and across the broad expanse between each shoulder. Afterward, I ran my fingers in a soft caress over the nape of his neck—God, how I'd always wanted to touch him in this way—and then began making my way over to the opposite shoulder, shortly coming around to his collarbone. Afterward, with a pivot of my fingertips, and practiced turns of my feet, I came a full one hundred and eighty degrees, facing him again. As I gazed into his eyes, my breathing increased, and I felt myself give a small pant as I moved my fingers down to his chest... Shattered-Way down we Go" - A heart-wrenching tango of love, loss, and redemption unfolds as Marlowe Mills, the daughter of the president for The Sons of Morning Star MC, is secretly in love with Torin Montero, a member of her father's MC, who becomes her father's rival and her silent protector. However her love is torn apart by a brutal betrayal. When the embers of their past reignite, Marlowe finds herself in the treacherous embrace of a Mob boss's son, entangled in a web of obsession and danger. But fate has a twist in store: Torin lives, scarred and driven by his own vendetta. As the lines between love and vengeance blur, Marlowe must choose between the comfort of the shadows or the tumultuous dance of destiny.

` It was a cool, breezy and stormy night. Rain came down in sheets, as a dark figure stood before a house. The house was pretty ordinary, white with blue shutters; it didn't have more than two bedrooms. It looked like a cozy little family home with flowers and shrubs lining the front lawn, and then the smell from the pellet stove smoke invaded his nostrils. He took a deep breath and pulled out an old, rusted compass from his black trench coat. It looked like it could have been from the 14th century, the small, brass disc was dented and the Victorian designs were faded. He studied it as it pointed east, towards the small house. He looked the house over carefully, looking for the best entrance, before proceeding towards the side to gaze into the window. Inside you can see the small kitchen; the brand new, all black appliances off set the linoleum floor. Cabinets filled almost every wall of the small space that made it look more crowded than it should have been. The kitchen opened to a larger room which seemed to be used as a living room and a dining room all at once. The whole house looked crowded, with the furniture in the living room all touching except for a small gap to walk through and the dining room was so close to the sofa, it could have been sitting on it. He stepped back into the shadows as he watched a young couple enter the kitchen. The wife was tall and slender, had strawberry blond hair formed around her face accenting her jaw-line and her deep blue eyes stopped your heart as you got lost in them. Her fair complexion was silky and complimented her soft face.

His hand slid beneath my dress, fingers curling around my thighs with a possessive grip. "I always knew that scumbag couldn't treat you right," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips traced a slow path from my jaw to my neck. "Still can't figure out what you ever saw in him." I drew in a shaky breath as his hands moved higher, fingertips brushing the band of my panties, sending a jolt of heat through me. "Women like you are prizes, Sienna," he whispered against my lips, the words melting into my skin. My grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles white. "And prizes? They're meant to be fucking claimed. Owned." In the haze of intoxication, Alexander Grayson looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth—or perhaps he really was. "Can... can you make me forget about Ryatt?" I breathed, my voice trembling. A smirk tugged at his lips, dark and predatory, as his hand slid inside my panties, finding the heat of my wet, aching pussy. A soft moan escaped me, and I clung to him, every nerve alight."I'll make you forget about yourself, flower," with that he crushed his lips to mine. *** From the moment I met Alexander Grayson, I despised him with everything I had. But when with fate's cruel sense of humor he forced his way into my life, everything changed. He was everything I loathed—a womanizer, a violent monster, a spoiled heir with an ego larger than life itself. He should have meant nothing to me. Yet, I learned the truth the hard way: nothing about Alexander Grayson was ever simple. Alex dragged me into the hell he'd created, where he sat as the devil on the throne of darkness And the most terrifying part? I didn’t want to….escape.

Dimitri Del Valle is a playboy. He is on top of his prime. A renown chef and a Billionaire, who don't believe in love, but when he meet Mary Jane Rosewood, he finally thought that she was meant for him. A soul mate, only that she is married. She is not a Miss, but Mary Jane is already a Missus. ** When Marry Jane meet Dimitri, she too was captivated. He made her feel what her husband lack. He is soft, caring and like a dream, where she left herself drowned on the magical moments they shared between lust, pleasure and...love. However, after that night, MJ disappeared without any trace. Gone without goodbye's, not until fate allowed the two to run across with each another again for the second time. The abused wife and the man who seeks love. Will his love won over her and overcome her fears or is she worth fighting for the love she couldn't give against his principles and his belief?

Justin Antonio Martínez, a wealthy and powerful businessman, the owner of the Martínez Fashion Industry. His arrogance and unrelenting ambition was well known to the prying eyes of the media. As Justin searches for the perfect woman to hire as his wife, he meets Isabella, a woman who unexpectedly challenges the emptiness of his carefully controlled life. ✦✦✦✦ "You’re relentless, wife." "And who’s a good boy?" She teased, tilting her head at me like she was addressing a misbehaving puppy. I smirked but kept my mouth shut. She leaned in closer, her voice softening to a coo. "Is the good boy angry?" That was it. Restraint? Gone. Before I knew it, my hand was at the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Her eyes widened as her breath caught, her face mere inches from mine. "Justin." She whispered, barely audible, her hand gripping mine like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push me away or pull me closer. "Yes, wife?" I asked, my gaze flicking between her wide eyes and her parted lips. "Justin." She said again, pouting this time, her cheeks turning a shade of red that I couldn’t ignore. "Hmm?" I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in, pressing a quick, firm kiss to her soft lips. The way her eyes widened and her blush deepened—it was priceless. She froze for a moment, like she couldn’t believe what just happened. I released her neck but kept hold of her hand, guiding it downward. "I’ve got your good boy right here." I teased, my voice low as I placed her hand over the hard bulge in my sweatpants. She looked so flustered, so completely off her game. And damn it, she was tempting. Too tempting.

Kyla is arranged to be married to Vixen, a powerful mafia boss with an unbroken reputation. To the outside world, he's cold, hard, ruthless, and merciless. She's kind, tender-hearted, beautiful, and caring. Given Vixen's reputation, Kyla doesn't want to fall in love, but soon, she learns that even the coldest hearts have a soft spot, and Vixen's just might be her. And although she doesn't like to admit it, hers might be him. Will they ever find love, or will this be a loveless marriage after all? ------- He raises his fist and I could swear I made a whimpering sound. I turn away and I look at the window as Vixen gets quiet. "Kyla." he says, his cold, hard mask still intact. I look at him, not saying anything, and he shifts in his seat, well aware of why I reacted that way. "Who did it?" he asks. I look down at my hands and I don't reply. "Was it those assholes at the university?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Kyla?" he says, his fingers brushing against my arm. I jump at his contact and suddenly a tear falls from my eyes. "God." he says as I begin to cry. I can tell he's not used to emotion.... "How was your first day sweetheart?" she asks sincerely. "A couple of frats tried getting in her panties in broad daylight and everyone around was gonna let it happen. How's that sound?" Vixen says, obviously still pissed.

Sold by her stepmother at an auction for a fantastic price, Pandora must devote her life to a mysterious man. The man with the spectral eyes holds a myriad of secrets. Their deal should have been handled well. But the craziest thing Pandora could never have imagined... she felt the soft flutter of his wings as he touched her body. Another part that Pandora never realized was that the man wanted something from her, which was simple. But also complicated as it seemed. Complicated as Pandora had to conceive in a virgin state. (Season one: Demigod Series).

His sinful hands traveled to her waist as she looked at him; her breath hitched as he traced her belly button “You are so vulnerable right now,” his gaze landed on the gunshot wound on her chest, just between her breasts. The fact that she was not wearing a bra right now was very distracting. Even with the scar she was so beautiful. “So are you,” he whispered keeping the gun in her hands. The heat of their graze did not help with the hot atmosphere of the room; this was deadly. “We can’t deceive both agencies,” her murmur was soft, unlike the sound of his harsh breathing. “We can, we will,” He looked straight into her eyes as her lips trembled. So unlikely of the girl she was. “It's a matter of two countries,” she whispered, her last straw against him, she knew she would give up if he had an answer to this. That she would let go of the lust suffocating her insides after this. “It's a matter of two hearts,” her eyes snapped to his immediately. “I can't seem to forget the little girl who took a bullet for me,” He said as her lips parted in shock. “You… knew?” she could not form more words. He could not find himself to answer anything else than a nod, he was deceiving her in the name of love. ‘Ya Allah, why do I have to do this?’ she asked her god taking her eyes away from him for a second. “It's the matter of two hearts, two bodies, two souls…” and two deceivers, the word they both so wanted to add but couldn’t. “Have me,” He whispered. “Take me,” she obliged In which she deceived him before he could deceive her