Sweet Pampering

"I want you back." Iyan ang mga katagang lumabas sa bibig ni Tyson matapos ang ilang buwang pakikipag-hiwalay kay Mariana at muling magpakasal sa babaeng una at tanging minahal nito, nakaluhod at umiiyak, nagmamakaawang tanggapin siya muli ng babaeng itinapon niya ng ganon ganon na lang. Talaga nga namang nasa huli ang pagsisisi. Sa tatlong taon nilang mag-asawa, ni hindi nito pinaramdam kay Mariana ang pagmamahal at pag-aaruga. Sakit at pighati ang isinusukli ni Tyson sa pagmamahal ni Mariana, hindi lang mula sa kanya, maging sa ina at kapatid nito na tila isang basura ang tingin kay Mariana. Matatanggap pa kaya siya ni Mariana? Gayong may iba nang lalaki ang pumupuno sa mga bagay na hindi pinaramdam ni Tyson sa kanya noong sila ay kasal, ang lubos na pag-aalaga at pagmamahal na matagal na niyang gustong maramdaman kay Tyson, ay pinaparamdam na sa kanya ng ibang lalaki na mas karapat-dapat sa kanya.

After an 800-meter run, I hide under the blanket to use the vibrating massager. At that moment, Uncle Theo barges into my room and asks coldly, "Does it feel that good?" I nod vigorously. The massage really does feel wonderful. Later, he yanks off his tie and uses it to bind my wrists. "It's too small and slow. Try me instead." I can only stare at him in bewilderment. But Uncle Theo, it's just a massage gun!

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

My boss, who made me work overtime every single day, finally got what was coming to him. Somehow, he got connected to my new keyboard. It was like he was synced to it. His face flushed red, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't type anymore," he begged. I just smiled and nudged the mouse. "Don't move the mouse either!" 'Do you expect me to just stop because you said so? Wouldn't that make me look pathetic?' I thought to myself. I kept working until midnight. Just as I was about to leave, I glanced down. The carpet at my boss's feet was soaked through. I figured he must have knocked over his glass of water.

My online boyfriend is very rich. Every time I get treated badly by my unscrupulous boss, he transfers money to me. But after another late overtime shift, I finally snapped. I was on the phone, yelling, “I’ll never forgive Zack Barlow. That scumbag!” However, my online boyfriend suddenly becomes quiet. He then asks, "Is your boss also named Zack Barlow?" His words made me pause.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

In her right state of mind, she would never have even been in a strangers car more less kissing him deeply at the backseat, but she wasn't in her right state of mind. Jeff's hand came down her face, to her neck, he held her waist gently and she let out a soft moan. She had nothing on but a silk gown that had thin straps. “Sir, ma'm we're here" Walter said out loud. They hadn't noticed the car had stopped some minutes ago. Emily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she quickly sat upright, and picked her purse and heels. …. They had a misunderstanding when they met, an intimate moment the second time they met. All a big misunderstanding and they swore to never cross paths again. Little did Emily know Jeff was her new boss and the first son of Frank Aston, Billionaire and Head of Aston corporations. Third time’s the charm, but not for these two who knew they had fallen for each other but couldn’t be together.

“If I say that I am not okay. Would you help me?” Ivan's peering gaze bored deep into Skylar's eyes, as his strong arms suddenly grabbed her tiny waist and pulled her close, causing her heart to skip and her eyes to widen in alarm. His deep mellifluous voice resonated in her ears, echoed in her mind, and sent tremor signals down her legs. Maybe it was the shots of champagne she had taken, or the secret desire for him that had never fed too much in her mind that took over at that moment, Skylar had no idea. However, staring at his gorgeous face which was extremely close to hers, gleaming and staring at her with intense hunger, she knew she was fucked. ‘This man was a walking temptation!’ ************ Just with one night of passion and pleasure with her boss, Skylar found herself torn between her professionalism and the dire need to act cool and pretend like nothing happened, all while being the best employee, to her cold, arrogant boss, Ivan Hamilton. She knew it was just any ordinary night, so obsessing over details could complicate things. However, things started to entangle more than she bargained for, when Ivan kept giving her reasons to confuse and question his actions. Just how would she keep the feelings she was beginning to harbor to herself, when the relationship between them had never exceeded the employer-employee contract? How would she deal with the truth that she was no longer immune to his endless charms which got her the job in the first place. And suddenly, Skylar was dropped from her pedestal of assumptions and fantasies, when reality dawned on her. Ivan Hamilton could never be the one for her. He was way out of her league. It was time to leave now.

At a concert, I went wild, shouting at the top idol on stage, “Tony Townsend, spray on my face!” That night, my brother had me pinned against the ancestral altar, a ruler pressing down on the back of my neck. “Lift your head. Tell me, what did you want that idol to do to you?” Later, he shoved me down onto the mattress, his fingertips grinding against my swollen lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

I bought a breathtakingly handsome and sculpted werewolf slave from the magic black market. His rock-hard abs were on full display, and his deep V-lines pointed straight down into his tight, low-slung pants. But once I got him home, it was clear something was very wrong. A low, suppressed growl rumbled constantly in his throat. He stared at me with his golden wolf eyes, looking like he wanted to tear me apart and devour me whole. His body burned like a walking furnace. I thought he had wolfsbane fever and frantically contacted the seller. The seller was silent for three seconds after hearing my description. [My dear witch, is it possible he isn't sick, but just...hungry?] [The kind of hungry...that makes a werewolf want to pin you to a wall and sink his fangs into your neck to mark you?]