Softly Thesaurus

[MATURE CONTENTS, NO RAPE, VIOLENCE, DARK] She didn't realize she was slowly falling deeply for the handsome billionaire who always hid in the shadows, shrouded in darkness and mystery. Despite the blaring alarm in her head screaming 'danger alert,' she just had to trust him. But he wasn’t just a wealthy heartthrob; he was a bad boy with sinister intentions. He became her weapon for revenge, an addiction that transformed her into a villain. (EXTRACT) Eamon's gaze flicked to the name tag on her uniform, which read "Mia." He smirked, clearly aware of the deception. "Heather, do you think you can save your life from me in a hospital?" he teased. "Well, if... if you're a disease," Heather retorted, trying to regain some semblance of control. Eamon chuckled softly, a chilling sound. "Sure I am. A terminal one." "Anyway, Mr. Eamon, sorry for taking things the wrong way this morning. Perhaps you thought I was mocking your blindness by saying you changed my clothes," she said sincerely. "It's alright," Eamon replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I saw everything though." Heather blinked in confusion. "Huh? But... you're blind. How can you see everything like you claimed?" Eamon's smile widened, and he leaned in slightly. "Let me tell you a secret then, Ms Heather," he said, removing his dark lenses to reveal a set of emerald green eyes. "You have a fading tattoo 'A & H' on your left waist and a tiny black dotty mole underneath your right breast," Eamon said, his voice low and intimate. Heather: "...." Eamon's eyes bore into hers, a predatory glint in them. "You can't hide from me, Heather. Not in a hospital, not anywhere."

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

I pulled my top down and brought his lips to my tight n*pples and he sucked on them and gave them a soft bite that made me quiver and moan. He knew I liked it and immediately pulled my bottoms down. "Let's see how wet you are" he softly said. He stuck two fingers inside me and it made my whole body relax as he curled them in and pulled them out again, revealing two very sticky fingers. "You want more ?" I nodded and pushed his hand back inside of me as he pushed them in slowly and deeply inside me. Then he turned his hand over and it made me moan when he came down and began to suck on my cl*t and get me closer and closer to an orgasm. He began to get harder and I got more and more anxious. "Please put it in me" I pleaded but he told me to be patient. I could do that and he didn't disappoint when he slowly stopped eating me out and jacked himself off in front of my opening. It was so hot as he fingered me deeper and harder I thought he was never going to put it in me when he flipped me over with my legs and f*cked me hard and deep. I gasped when he entered me because of how veiny and ribbed his d*ck felt inside me. He pushed deep and kissed my back and neck as he clenched my n*pple and twisted it, making me moan. I was confused because I was in love with another man who loved me equally. How am I going to deal with this?

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT "The bed," she mumbled softly, pointing at the bed. "Whoever said it only happens in bed?" I asked as I ripped the remaining of her naughty dress. "My best friend bought me that dress she'd kill me," she uttered in shock. "Tell her I ruined it," I uttered authoritatively, and she chuckled. I took off my sweatpants and she gasped. Soft, pleasurable noises left her throat, and it felt so beautiful watching her moan to my strokes "Baby... fuck... I... oh goodness." "Wait... no, don't... stop," she stuttered out, and I smiled proudly knowing I was doing the right thing. ************* Laura Ben graduated last year and was lucky to land an assistant job at a prestigious tech company. On her best friend's birthday, her friend treated them to a night at the renowned and exclusive male strip club. The performance was enticing and captivating, but Laura found herself drawn to a stripper wearing a half mask. Possessed by an inexplicable urge, she waited by the stage door, hoping for a glimpse of him. And when she finally saw his face, she was shocked, so much so that she stumbled, catching his attention. The captivating stripper was none other than her boss, Bryan Finch, the CEO of Premium Tech. Now that Laura knows his deepest secret, she uses this knowledge to blackmail him. Unknown to her, Bryan is being forced to strip because he killed his ex-fiancée and someone has been blackmailing him ever since. With the leverage she holds over him, Laura offers a proposal: promote her, or risk his secret being exposed. But will Bryan submit to her demands, or will he fight back? What is he hiding about his involvement in the death, and how long will he be forced to live this double life?

“I love you, Venus. But… it would be better if we divorced.” Venus Andalusia never imagined that her one-year marriage to Jupiter Shaw would end on the very night that should have been the happiest of her life—the night she discovered she was pregnant. Instead of an embrace filled with happiness, she was handed divorce papers. Jupiter couldn’t forgive what had happened in the past. And Venus had no choice but to accept his decision. She didn’t want to remain by his side while carrying a love that hurt like this—heavy, unreciprocated, and slowly breaking her. “Whatever you choose, Jupiter,” Venus said softly, “I’ll leave. Because I don’t think I could survive being in your place either.” But before she truly walked away, she asked for two weeks. Two weeks for Jupiter to relive the journey of how they had fallen in love—watching movies together, spending an entire day at an amusement park, watching the sunset on his private beach. Two weeks to remember them. Tragically, it wasn’t the past that shattered—it was Jupiter himself who ended up destroying his own life all over again. Venus was hurt while protecting the very man who wanted to divorce her. And before her wounds could heal, the world condemned her, labeling her unworthy to stand beside Jupiter. All because of her past. It only convinced Venus further that she didn’t belong at his side. As if that weren’t enough, Jupiter’s former lover appeared—bringing a child with her. Venus chose to disappear. She signed the divorce papers, walked away with her love… and with the child born from that love. When fate brought them together again, only one question remained: Was a wounded love still worth it?

"Good boys don't wear briefs," the man murmured in a low, seductive tone, causing Ivan's blood to heat up. An involuntary soft moan escaped Ivan's lips as he fought to catch his breath. Upon returning home from the office, he had purposely discarded his briefs, knowing the effect it had on his mysterious lover. The man always preferred him naked, and Ivan complied willingly. Whispering softly, Ivan repeated the words of his dream invader: "Good boys do not wear briefs." His voice was barely audible. The man pulled Ivan's buttocks firmly against his hips, causing a surge of sensations to rush through Ivan's body. "Good boys must be spanked," the man declared, inhaling Ivan's sweet scent, before planting his lips on the exposed soft skin. Ivan trembled and closed his eyes as the man playfully bit and kissed his neck, his hands teasingly exploring his torso, eventually reaching his sensitive, hardened nipples. After weeks of longing and erotic torture, there was one thing Ivan yearned for: Why couldn't his dream progress to the moment when the man actually penetrated him? The point where he claimed Ivan as his own. For at least, Ivan believed that he would truly comprehend what it felt like to be intertwined with him even in his dreams. To have himself be intimately connected with him. However, Ivan was aware that enduring the torture from this man, in his dreams, was the price he must pay for what he did ten years ago. Everything he feared, everything he regretted was coming back to slap him in the face tonight. By 6 p.m. he would be coming face to face with his dream invader at the college ten years reunion party, Shawn Maddox, in flesh.

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

Irene Harvey’s life comes crumbling when her mate rejects her on their wedding day and her father is arrested by her sworn enemy, Alpha Devon. This takes her back to square one, stripping her of every power she had as an Alpha daughter and turning into an Omega over night. To wash down the misery of being ruined by a man that not only arrested her father but had also killed her brother, she decided to go for a party. In that party, she meets a mysterious man in which she is attracted to. He takes her to his private cabin and they share a hot, steamy night. Irene Harvey’s life comes crumbling the second time when she learnt that the man she shared a steamy night with was Alpha Devon, the man she had always detested and the new Alpha of her Pack. —- “What do you want?” Irene spat, not bothering to flip the light on. His scent that she loathed with every fiber of her being announced him before his lips did. “You,” he replied softly, as if he hadn’t just snapped an innocent man’s neck for merely speaking to her. “You need to leave me alone, Devon.” Her voice crackled with frustration and fury. “You know that’s not possible,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “Stop this madness! What more do you need from me? You took my family, stripped me of my title, forced me into an Omega’s life. You took everything. Just leave. Me. Alone. Please.” In a blink he was inches from her, breath hot on her neck. “You don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. This is do‑or‑die. Either I have you… or I kill every man who even breathes near you.”

"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?

He wasn’t supposed to notice her. She wasn’t supposed to want him. And her daughter definitely wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him first. “He’s not just dangerous,” she whispers to herself . “He’s the kind of man who ruins your life slowly… and makes you thank him for it.” He rides loud. He loves hard. And once he wants something, he doesn’t let go. “You don’t get to look at me like that,” she tells him. His smile is slow. Predatory. Certain. “I already did,” he says. “And now you’re mine.” She’s a single mother barely holding it together. He’s a biker king with blood on his hands and loyalty carved into his bones. Their worlds should never touch. But they collide anyway. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing to me?” he growls. Her back hits the wall. His body cages her in. “You think I’d touch you if I didn’t plan to keep you?” This isn’t a sweet romance. It’s raw. Possessive. Unforgiving. The kind of love that marks you. “Mummy,” her daughter says softly, holding his hand. “Can he stay forever?” He shouldn’t want them. But the idea of leaving them hurts worse than any knife. “I don’t share,” he tells her in the dark. “Not my bike. Not my club. And definitely not my woman.” One kiss turns into hunger. One night turns into obsession. And one choice could burn everything down. “If you climb on my bike,” he warns, voice low and lethal, “you don’t get off unchanged.”