Softly Synonym

She moaned softly beneath him, her body arching, craving his touch, even as her mind screamed that this was wrong. “Please, stop. I don’t want this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. Aurora, eldest daughter of the Alpha of North Pack, was in the one place she should never be—entangled with her sworn enemy, Alpha Hunter, the ruthless Alpha of the Dark blood pack. She tried to rise, her instincts screaming for escape, but Hunter pinned her down with ease. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto hers as he growled, “Did I say you could leave?” His gaze was as dangerous as it was captivating, and his hands roamed over her body, igniting sensations she couldn’t control. Her body betrayed her, writhing under his touch. Hunter leaned closer, his lips hovering just a breath away. Aurora turned her head sharply, refusing him, her heart pounding in defiance. He caught her chin with a firm grip, forcing her to face him. “I’m warning you,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing. “Don’t you dare defy me.” His strong arms enveloped her as she struggled against him, her voice rising in desperation. “This is wrong! Stop it! We can’t do this. You’re my enemy—my pack’s enemy!” A dark chuckle escaped his lips, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered arrogantly, “Oh, my sweet little Aurora. Have you forgotten? You’re my mate.” His laughter echoed through the room, a mix of menace and triumph. Aurora’s breath hitched as his words sank in, each one more impossible than the last. What will happen when enemies turned into destined mates and rejection is not an option?

"Stay awake," he ordered softly, deadly. "Stay, or I swear I’ll fuck you alive right here just to keep your heart beating." *** She signed her submission. Now she has to surrender her soul. Aria Valente is the picture of perfection, billionaire heiress, tech mogul, mafia princess. But beneath the steel facade lies a secret desire to surrender in a world where control is an absolute necessity for survival. To submit. One night at the infamous Crimson Vault BDSM club, she meets a masked dangerous man who makes her knees weak with one command his name is Dominus. Their chemistry is dangerous, their sessions addictive so she agrees to become his submissive under a strict contract. He never shows his face. He gives no name. Only rules. Only touch. Only pleasure. She is summoned by her family and finds out that she was betrothed at birth to the Don of a powerful Moretti mafia this is meant to merge bloodlines and end an old vendetta. Refusal means losing her shares, her company, her freedom. She vows to destroy the union. Until she meets her future husband ,Nero Moretti, the youngest, most feared Don in Italy. And when she sees him she freezes. Because Nero… Is Dominus. Now bound by blood, lust, and secrets, Aria must play his game or lose everything. But what if she doesn’t want to win anymore?

"So, what's it going to be, Professor Darwin?" he asked, breathing softly against my ears. "Are you going to punish me or what?" he teased me, his fingers stroking my folds gently. "Fuck you, Jeremy," the cuss word came out thick with moans. "Oh, in a minute," he smirked against my neck, slipping a finger into me and I tossed my head backwards, releasing a wanton sound. Stubborn bastard. •••• Lucia Darwin, in one word, would be a coward but she didn't care. When she saw the perfect opportunity to bolt from her demons and turn the lock on them, she didn't hesitate. Landing the perfect job at Crawford University as a professor and her best friend's wedding seemed like the perfect excuse to flee from Austria. Little did she know that she would have even bigger fish to fry in New York. She had always been a sucker for weddings, but there was an exception. The gorgeous singer who caught her fancy. Maybe the attraction wasn't one-sided because things grew heated after she engaged him in a conversation, and they found themselves buried in each other before the end of the night, sharing a passionate night. What happens at Bethany's wedding, stays at Bethany's wedding, but in Lucia's case, it clung to the hem of her dress like a stubborn seam when she made a shocking discovery that the guy she hooked up with that night happened to be one of her students, Jeremy Hale, Crawford's biggest snub and the hottest boy on campus. A school that frowned upon romantic relationships between teachers and students, a stubborn boy who would do anything to have what he wanted, and a cold-hearted professor whose niche is running away from her problems. The question is, how messy could this get?

“Get undressed and wait for me in bed. Keep your legs open until I finish my shower,” he commanded with the power of his Alpha status and as her mate. She wanted to resist. “Do you think I'm the same Luna you forced in the past? I refuse to submit to you. I won't let you touch me.” He growled softly, feeling a hot desire for her. She was no longer the unattractive Luna he remembered. She was gorgeous. He wanted to devour her with his tongue. He pulled her close and pushed her onto the bed, licking the back of her ear, making her moan in pleasure. He whispered, “I won't touch your body. Just your pussy until you beg for more.” He used to be next in line for Alpha and was under the control of his grandfather, the Alpha king. He had to accept mating with the woman he disliked the most - the daughter of one of the most powerful Alphas in the werewolf kingdom. If he didn't, he might lose his chance at being Alpha king after his grandfather's death. He thought he was mateless at the time. He didn't choose to mate with the unattractive woman, so he cheated on her day and night. But, one drunken night, he lost control and slept with her. Later, he forced her to break their mating bond. But, he discovered she was carrying his triplets. He forced her to be his mate again, or she wouldn’t see her children again. Six years later, he was no longer weak. He was the Alpha king of werewolves.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.