Suit Transformation

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

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.

Amber Cole is a 31-year-old stripper. With her prime years in the industry slipping away, she’s aware that soon her looks will no longer be enough to make the money she needs to survive. Struggling with her self-worth and looking for a way out, Amber’s world is about to be upended when she meets Ryan Carter, a cold, successful businessman from Chicago. Ryan, reeling from his fiancée's betrayal, is forced into a bizarre deal by a clause in his late grandfather’s will: he must marry and stay married for one year. When his best friend, Tom, suggests he hire a stripper to pretend to be his fiancée, Ryan reluctantly agrees. He picks Amber, offering her $500,000 for her time. Unaware of the deep complexities of her own emotions, Amber agrees, seeing the money as her ticket to a fresh start. Despite their differences — Ryan's polished world of wealth and Amber's gritty, down-to-earth life — they are drawn into a tense, fiery dynamic that forces both to confront their prejudices and assumptions. Amber start their arrangement, initially unaware of the emotional journey she’s about to embark on. As she undergoes a transformation, both physically and emotionally, Ryan begins to question his initial perception of her, discovering that beneath her tough exterior, Amber is more than just a stripper. As the months pass, their relationship evolves from contractual obligation to something far more complicated. Sparks fly, but so do their insecurities. Amber finds herself falling for Ryan, but can she ever be the woman he needs her to be? And can Ryan truly let go of his past and embrace the real, messy woman Amber has become?

Narrative: Awakening, I felt as though I was submerged in water. "Meow," I attempted to articulate, but to my surprise, a feline sound escaped my lips instead! What on earth had she done to me? Why had she bathed me? And now, what was to be done with her in her current state of undress? I found myself cursing under my breath as I took in the sight of her alluring, bare form. My head was spinning... The warmth was gradually spreading throughout my body as I gazed upon her nudity... A mere few moments with her and I was uncertain if I could restrain myself... This couldn't be my fault, could it? She was the one who initiated it. Her beautiful face held my gaze as she tightly shut her eyes. She was too stunning to resist, and I was merely a lustful vampire who was attracted to her. "Could you please touch me more?" she implored. What was this sensation? A fire was ignited within me, a burning desire to caress her. The way she yearned for my touch was irresistible. I was so engrossed in her bare, voluptuous form that I hadn't noticed my transformation back into my human shape. By the time I realized I was already kissing her, it was too late, and she didn't protest, even though her eyes were now open. I was positioned above her, my size dwarfing hers, as if I were a titan and she was merely a mortal woman beneath me. I leaned down to kiss her, my eyes drawn to her collarbone, "Please, more..." she pleaded, "Please, more..." "Are you certain, my dear? Once I begin, I may not be able to stop."

Alessia, a beautiful and powerful Sliver-blonde haired werewolf, born from the love of an Alpha and a powerful Witch. She faces insurmountable obstacles and had already accumulated so many enemies who sought her death right from birth. This lead first, to the mysterious death of her parents. Then the sudden brutal annihilation of her Pack, with her being the sole survivor. Enraged, Alessia seeks revenge for her Pack, the only family she ever knew. This rage, led to her complete awakening. A rebirth! Gaining a balance control of her wolf, after her first Transformation, she sought the alliance of a powerful and Formidable Alpha. Alpha Derek, a direct descendant of Lycan, a protective leader, who also seek to lift the ancient curse on his kind. This alliance prove to be quite a challenge to Alessia. Derek, Unbeknownst to her, was her fated mate and also the suitor who sought after her prior to the chaos, and her his would-be Luna. Later, the common goal brought them closer and thus the power of love is ignited. Through twist and turn, Alessia gets to know that she is the child of the prophecy, prophesied by Lycan centuries ago - As one to lift the curse on the son's of Lycan. A curse placed on a generation of humans by a strong witch - 'She cursed them to forever wander the night as part wolf and part human, and to forever be bond to the moon. Alessia is the child to break the curse. She brings redemption to the son's of Lycan. With Alessia and Derek's life hanging in balance, Can their love conquer centuries old curse and enemies? Can they forge unbreakable alliances and redeem the son's of Lycan? Will Alessia claim her place as the most powerful Luna in the shape shifter's world?

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

WARNING! Mature Contents!!! A one-night stand of hot unprotected sex filled with passion and desire and Tiffany West and Lorenzo Russo's lives intertwine forever. Tiffany has no idea her stepfather owes the Cosa Nostra money and she's been used to repay the debt with an arranged marriage to Demirci, a member of the Turkish Mafia. And then there's him. The devil with a handsome face and nice tailored suit and a heart as black as tar. Lorenzo Russo. He's the man she lusts after and loathes more than anything— his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance, and too too-perceptive eyes. He's ability to see through her disguise to the broken girl she is has her infuriated. He's the embodiment of darkness and probably one of the most dangerous men in the world but she has no idea she's his frustration and fascination. Nowhere in Lorenzo Russo plan had he ever prepared for Tiffany. She's his opposite in every way… and the greatest temptation he's ever known. The breathing definition of everything he didn't want. She laughs too loud. She talks so much. She's clearly not his type, but still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her wherever she goes and thinking about their night of wild sex. After a wild party where Tiffany clearly had too many drinks. She wakes up next to Lorenzo wearing his ring. His wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to Lorenzo Russo, a Mafia don. Now she's forced to live with him. Sleep next to him. Be a wife to him. It didn't take long before shadows of the past comes knocking in the face of Salvatore Russo, the devil of a father that orders the murder of his sons. Now he's out to destroy the one thing Lorenzo Russo seems to obsess about, Tiffany West.

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

. No one argues with me. I sit there for a long time. Eventually, footsteps approach again. I do not look up. “Selene,” a voice says. I recognize it. I lift my head slowly. Dorian stands in the doorway. His suit is immaculate. His hair perfectly styled. He looks irritated. Not panicked. Not broken. Late. “You came,” I say. My voice sounds wrong. Hollow. He exhales sharply. “I came as soon as I could.” I look down at Rowen. Then back at Dorian. “You missed it,” I say calmly. He frowns. “Missed what?” I laugh. “Our son,” I say. “You missed our son.” His eyes shift to the bed. To the stillness. To the quiet. Something flickers across his face. Annoyance. Disbelief. Not grief. “Selene,” he says. “What are you talking about.” I stand up slowly, still holding Rowen. “He waited for you,” I say. “He asked for you.” Dorian rubs his temple. “This is not the time for dramatics.” I stare at him. “Say that again,” I say softly. He sighs. “We will arrange the healers again tomorrow. Right now, I have people waiting.” I feel something dangerous rise in my chest. “Tomorrow,” I repeat. “Hmm. Okay.” He steps close r. Looks at Rowen more carefully now. “Why is he not responding,” he asks. I meet his eyes. “Because he is dead,” I say. Dorian freezes. “What,” he says. I take a step toward him. “Say his name,” I tell him. He hesitates. “Rowen.” “Say it again,” I say. “Rowen,” he repeats, irritated now. I lift my chin. “He died asking if he was good enough for you,” I say. “So tell me, Alpha Nightfall.” My voice trembles for the first time. “Was he.”

*******He can spank me every single day, I might get addicted to this.  Suddenly he's off from me, and I instantly miss his dominant warmth, so I take a chance to look behind me and I must have died and gone to heaven, because Alessandro Moretti is stripping himself from his pristine suit, unveiling the fine body he hides underneath it.  First his jacket goes, then he angrily takes off his tie, his eyes never leaving mine and I'm completely immobilized as he reveals that chest to me that I would love to map with my finger.  I gulp when his hands go to his belt buckle and he drops his pants, dressed now in only black boxer briefs. He palms his very hard, very big erection through the material brazenly and I'm scared I might really get a heart attack from the way my heart is beating furiously.*****  When the Prince Of The Underground first lay eyes on the beauty that is Farrah Simpson, he is caught hook, line and sinker. At first he thinks he can get her out of his system, but the beauty has more depth than he could've ever imagined. Against her will and better judgement, she too falls in love with the dangerous criminal, changing her life forever. As much as Alessandro loves her, he has to let her go. He has too many enemies who would salivate at capturing her, and he simply cannot take the risk with the woman who owns his whole heart. He tries to stay away from her, but Farrah wouldn't let him. He made her fall in love with him and she cannot see her life without him. Will Alessandro be able to stay away from her? Or will Farrah convince him she's worth fighting for?