Suggestive

Celeste Cox sent me a photo on WhatsApp. I opened it to find a picture of the school heartthrob and me in an intimate embrace, the pose as suggestive as could be.

The title "One Night Stand with My Ex's Uncle" is a dramatic and emotionally tangled romance. It's suggestive of themes like betrayal, forbidden love, and possibly redemption or scandal. This type of story typically thrives on emotional tension and unexpected twists. The "uncle" character is not protective, rather it mysterious, and in form of a foil to the ex, offering the protagonist a new perspective or emotional safety. these novels often explore deep feelings of guilt, longing, and the complications of moving on — especially when ties to the past remain strong.

After going bankrupt, I was given away as a gift by my former nemesis, Colt Reyes. My former lover, Emerson Snyder, the one I had played with the most ruthlessly before, now traced his fingers along my face, his hands roaming every inch of my body. "You sure had a lot of lovers," he said. I provoked him defiantly, telling him he was the most despicable among all my lovers. He gave my face a light pat, his suggestive tone dripping with amusement. "That's okay. Now you only need to serve me."

She was moving closer in a suggestive manner, and it was obvious she was flirting. She asked, "What are you doing?" I replied, "Making you uncomfortable." It was clear that I was succeeding. I took a step back and asked, "What's happening? I just told you I hate you." "Yes, you did," she said, her fingers reaching out and grabbing my shirt, stopping me from backing away. "And that you want me, like I said when I arrived, even though you pretended you didn't hear me." "I'm confused," I responded. "It's simple," she replied, as she began unbuttoning my shirt. Her lips approached my ear and I could feel them on my skin as she whispered, "There are two things I want from a man. The first one is to be worshipped like a goddess." I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders and let her get to work on my belt as I went to work on her shorts. Pink panties. Bright pink. As pink as the thing inside them. "And the second one?" *** Read the filthy story between a teacher and his mischievous students as they attempt to entice him.

The day I found out that I was a fake heiress who had taken the place of the Jones family’s real daughter, my husband, Timothy Lane, was brought back as the true heir of the Lane family. The man who once said he loved me quickly abandoned both me and our daughter. At that very moment, the real heiress, Nancy Jones, decisively broke up with the fake heir of the Lane family and got together with Timothy. According to them, this was simply ‘making things right’. After losing everything in the blink of an eye, Micah Lane, the fake heir, kidnapped my daughter and me, forcing me to call Timothy for help. However, Timothy ignored our desperate pleas and mocked us. "You two are really something. Of course the fake heiress and fake heir go together. No wonder you make such a perfect pair of actors." On the other end of the line, I could occasionally hear Nancy's raspy, suggestive voice. As I listened to them, Micah stabbed me and my daughter to death. I died a tragic, painful death. After we died, my daughter and I were my husband's final assignment as a mortician before he left the job. The man who claimed he did not care about us fell apart the moment he saw our lifeless bodies. "Wasn't it all supposed to be a lie?! Why weren't you lying to me?! "Please, don't die! Don't leave me!"

On the anniversary of our Mating, my legs were wrapped around my Alpha, Adrian, as we shared a deep kiss. My fingertips brushed against the hidden pocket of my silk dress, my hand tightening around the pregnancy test I had concealed there. I felt the faint flutter of a new life inside me, planning to give him this surprise as the perfect end to our evening. Just then, Adrian's Beta, Ethan, spoke in a low, teasing tone, using the Old Tongue. "Alpha, that little sister-in-law of yours… the newly matured she-wolf, Zoe. How did she taste?" Adrian's low, suggestive chuckle reached my ears, quiet yet piercingly clear. He replied in the same ancient language. "You know a freshly ripened pepper? Hot, with a real kick." His palm was still caressing my waist, yet his gaze had drifted elsewhere. "Just keep it quiet. If my Luna finds out, it's all over." The other Betas let out knowing chuckles, raising their glasses in a silent promise to keep his secret. But a chill washed over me, and my inner wolf went still, as if it had died. He didn't know I had studied the Old Tongue for my research on werewolf trauma. I understood every word. I held back my tears, forcing myself to appear unfazed, maintaining the composure expected of a Luna. Instead of confronting him, I sent a magically shielded message to Elder Slone of the Werewolf Healers' Association, accepting the invitation she had extended to me. In three days, I would join a secure werewolf rehabilitation program as their new Lead Therapist and disappear from Adrian's world forever.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Yvonne Jamison wants to get married after being with Jared Ford for seven years. She prepares her own wedding dress, but he doesn't pop the question. On the day they're scheduled for a pre-marriage medical checkup, she waits for him at the hospital from day to night. Yet, he's busy throwing a celebration for his new secretary. The secretary shares a social media update and tags Yvonne in it. The update comes with a photo of a diamond ring from Jared and a suggestive caption. Yvonne doesn't cause a fuss. She likes the update, quits her job, and goes home for a blind date. Jared is unfazed. He's sure she won't actually leave him. "I'll just give her the cold shoulder for a few days to teach her a lesson. She'll be back soon enough." However, the days pass, and Yvonne doesn't return. Jared loses his cool. For the first time ever, he submits to Yvonne. "Have you had enough of this tantrum? Come back if you still want to marry me. This is your last chance!" "Mr. Ford, Ms. Jamison has already met someone else on a blind date." Later, Yvonne shares a photo of her marriage certificate on her social media. Jared, who has always been arrogant and aloof, loses his mind. He kneels outside her house in the rain for three days and nights. "Please come back to me, Yvonne!" The door opens, and a man clad in nothing but a towel around his waist emerges. He says hoarsely, "My wife has fallen asleep from her exhaustion. Please leave, Mr. Ford."

"Look, I understand you're married," he replied in the same low, calm baritone while we danced. "But burying your head in the sand does not change the facts. These things are out of our hands, you and I. We can't help what we feel, Keira. We should talk about it and try to resolve it." Resolve? Now he was being blatantly sex.ually suggestive? I was going to respond, but my mouth hung open as a gentle thumb brushed the flesh above my waist. That part of the dress had a small opening... **** On her thirteenth birthday, Kiera suffers an attack that leaves a lasting injury on her wolf and weakens her senses. When her father dies, as the only child, she succeeds him, becoming Luna of the Spring Moon pack despite her secret deformity. But her position and the secret of her wounded wolf are at stake if she remains unmarried. To earn the support of pack elders, her uncle arranges marriage with the most suitable candidate and her teenage crush, Liam Rudd. Despite the imperfections in her marriage, Keira is content with her life. Until their first wedding anniversary. Her husband begins to reveal his true colors while pack elders insist she remains in an unhappy marriage. To worsen the crisis, Alpha Nox, a notorious ruthless lycan, comes into the picture. He claims he's her fated mate, though her injured wolf is not able to confirm this. One kiss, a simple mistake, leads to Keira's undoing. The lycan learns her secret and becomes determined to claim what is rightfully his, no matter the cost. Will Keira be able to protect her pack from ruin and keep her title? What extent is Alpha Nox willing to go to get what he wants?

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"