Sound Desahan

*WARNING* *THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT* *PROCEED WITH CAUTION* “Don’t… Don’t come any closer” I whispered, but I knew he heard me. “Why, My Little Vixen?” He asked in that husky tone that almost made me go weak in the knees. “Because I don’t want you,” I lied and tried to sound adamant, pretending like his touch didn’t make me weak. “I don’t think so,” He snickered and started to walk towards me like I was his prey, and he was my predator. Involuntarily, I began to move backward while he closed up on me. “I mean it, Adrian. Do not come any closer,” I warned in a slightly shaky voice, but he approached me and caged me to the wall. “Then prove it, my Little Vixen. Prove that you don't want me,” He whispered to my ears as his fingers ran through my hair, and I shivered at his touch. ***** A deal. It was meant to be just a deal between Adrian and Isabelle, but this deal ignited old flames. Old flames that they both assumed were all in the past. Then all hell was let loose when the person Isabella had known to be her brother all her life came back from the dead, claiming that they were betrothed since birth. What would happen next?

Three years of marriage. One contract. Zero kisses. Lira Hart, rising actress and media sweetheart, has been married to cold, enigmatic billionaire Damian Blackwood for three long, loveless years. Their union was forged not from love, but from a contract signed by their powerful families. While the world envied her last name, Lira knew the truth: he never wanted her. Never touched her. Never looked at her like she mattered. Until the night she asked for a divorce. Suddenly, the man who never cared is showing up on her film sets, making headlines with unexpected kisses, and whispering things that sound dangerously like regret. But Lira’s heart isn’t something she’s willing to gamble anymore, not after three years of being invisible in his world. Can a man who locked his heart away learn how to love the woman who’s already slipping through his fingers? Or is this billionaire three years too late?

Sara's legs straddling Austin's lap, their lips clashed in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sound of their lips meeting was like a spark, igniting a flame that threatened to consume them. "Mmm," Sara murmured, her lips vibrating against Austin's. "I hate you," Austin growled, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sara's hands were just as busy, her fingers tracing the lines of Austin's face, her thumbs brushing against his lips. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their kissing. Their lips parted for a moment, and Austin's tongue darted out, tracing the curve of Sara's lower lip. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Sara's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the contours of Austin's chest. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. As she exposed his chest, Austin's eyes locked onto hers, a warning flashing in their depths. "You'll hate me tomorrow," he said, his voice low and rough. Sara's eyes flashed with defiance, her hands continuing to explore Austin's chest. "We don't like each other anyway," she said, her voice husky with desire.

His reputation stretches far and wide and is darker than his dark suits and ties. After Lauren's first encounter with her father's killer, she realizes he’s just as dangerous as he is handsome. She doesn’t like the man or anything he stands for, though that doesn’t stop her heart from wanting to jump out of her chest like an excited rabbit when he’s near, nor the shiver that ghosts down her spine at the sound of his voice. And he’s always near. Telling her what to do. Dragged into his world in a contract marriage that'd benefit the dark lord and satisfy her thirst for revenge against her mother's enemies, her life and heart goes towards a downward spiral. Lauren may be a sweet girl on the outside, but she’s beginning to learn she has a taste for the darkness, for rough hands on her neck, cigarettes, and emerald-colored eyes.

This is a sexy and dark retelling of Beauty and the Beast where the beauty is a shy and sweet twenty-one year old girl and the beast is a twisted, psychotic, arrogant and cunning vampire. ****"C-can you p-please be gentle?" She meekly stuttered out between tears and hiccups. Her gaze still attached to the ceiling. Seconds passed. She could feel her cheeks heat up even after uttering that small request. What it implied. She'd never had sex before. She hadn't even seen a naked male before, in her entire life. She didn't know what to expect. But she definitely knew that it was going to hurt. The girls from her high-school had warned her of that. That it was going to hurt really bad at first. And that it wasn't actually that pleasant either. She startled at the sudden sound of his masculine chuckle. Her head instinctually turned to look at him before she could even try and stop herself. She watched him turn to lie on his side, his elbow digging into the soft pillow as he held his head in his hand. A sly smirk displaying on his beautifully-carved features. "And why would I do that?" He rose one brow. She immediately felt her cheeks burn even hotter. "B-because I asked you nicely," she bit her lip. Her hands were still tightly holding onto that duvet, keeping it at chin level. His gaze momentarily dropped to her mouth, taking notice of that small action. "A-and because I'm scared. I haven't done this before. Any of this," she truthfully admitted after a moment, her gaze lowering as she couldn't help but feel so embarrassed. About all of it. What she'd just told him, their current position. All of it. "You mean the sucking or the fucking part?"***

{SUPPORT = MOTIVATION = MORE UPDATES} Valery Hale ~ All I ever wanted was a comfortable life for me and my brother, Derek. With no parents, I had to work hard to put food on our table. Derek needs to go to school, and I need money for the never-ending bills. Just when life starts getting good, fate decides to throw in a box of scorpions. I can barely make ends meet every month, as if that isn’t hell enough. How am I supposed to make the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company fall in love with me? Did I mention he’s also an Alpha Lycan?   Nathaniel Kress ~ For generations, KressCo. has met the needs of The BloodFlame Pack. Being the next Alpha, I am to also take over as the CEO of the company, but my father won’t let me until I claim someone to replace my deceased Mate. I don’t believe in second-chance Mates and even if I did, not Valery. I should've rejected her from the start because now I can’t get her out of my head. If only I knew she wasn’t the innocent lamb she was so good at pretending to be... -- Jaden points the loaded gun at me. “Valery, you have three months to get the bastard to marry you. Succeed, and you’ll get your brother back in one piece. Fail.” My heart skips a beat at the click sound the gun makes in his hands. “Fail, and I’ll break every bone in his body, then feed him to my sharks.” He threatens with his hand outstretched to me. “It’s simple enough, so do we have a deal?” The Mafia Lord asks, his lips curving to form an evil grin. Like I have a choice. “Yes.” --

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

“You can feel it right? The burning attraction.” Giovanni whispers, trapping her by the wall. He rests his palm beside her head, lowering his head to her height. Mia swallows her spit as she automatically clasps her thighs together trying to soothe the ache down there. “No– I don't feel anything.” she says trying to sound firm, but her voice betrays her coming out in a breathy whisper. He smirks, trailing his fingers down her cheeks tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Deny all you want. You. Are. Mine!!!” he growls, slamming his lips down on hers hard. ~~~~ Mia Neomi didn't know what she dragged herself into when she innocently saved a mafia lord from death in a dark alley one night. Thinking everything was going to be fine after she woke to an empty bed, life shows her it's more fucked up than she thinks when they meet in the most uncanny way ever. The man she saved turns out to be her cold, ruthless, and merciless boss at her office, Mr Giovanni Antonio. A cold blooded killer, the Capo of the Italian Mafia. A man whose sole purpose is to ruin everything he touches. He hates her because he can't stop thinking about her while she hates him because he makes her life hell. But when the attraction overtakes the hatred. Mia soon discovers that the man she is attracted to isn't who he says he is, and the woman he is attracted to isn't who he thinks she is. Lies, secrets, and betrayal threatens to tear them apart. Will their attraction conquer it all? Or will they be consumed in the web that entangles them together? I mean is attraction even worth fighting for?

“Don't! My body is a temple of the Lord!” I shivered at the sound and raid in my voice as I held his gaze. He let out a small chuckle, a smirk slowly crawling to his lips. “Your body belongs to me–” he grabbed my naked ass, forcefully pulling me to make contact with his hardened body. “I, Vermont Cardonisss, am now your Lord, little pet. Bend over!” *** It is better to be a slave to a mafia than to be a sex toy of your very own father. On this account, Grace agrees to pay the debts of her father to the sexy and brutal mafia, Vermont Cardoniss. It becomes a bloody entanglement of two incessant individuals where Vermont seems too ruthless to repent and Grace, too religious to be laid. Would it be a case of a good girl turned naughty or the redemption of a cold-blooded mafia? [Content Guidance: This book is intended for adult as it contains explicit sexual and violence scenes]

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.