Novel & Cerita Tablet Lap Pillow

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.

Three years ago, I fled my old pack and hid among humans at Westridge University. As graduation approached, Damian Blackwood—the man I had secretly loved for three years—suddenly confessed his feelings to me. He told me he was a wolf. He promised that as soon as we graduated, he would take me back to his pack and make me the most honored Luna. I was overjoyed. We spent the entire night together, wild and desperate. The next day, Damian pulled me into his arms in front of everyone and announced that we were together. I sat on his lap, blushing, certain that I was the luckiest woman alive. I was ready to tell them my true identity. But then they suddenly switched to the Old Tongue. "How did the bookworm taste?" Damian answered casually. "She acts innocent on the surface, but in bed? An absolute whore." Laughter erupted around us. "So are you actually going to mark a… human?" Damian frowned. "No. My size—no wolf woman could take me. I was worried that Juliette, being human herself, might think I'm too rough. So I used Aurora for practice." "Don't let Juliette know that Aurora and I slept together. I don't want her to be upset." What Damian didn't know was that I am the Alpha King's only daughter. And I understood every word of the Old Tongue. I said nothing. But when I returned home, I secretly contacted my father, the Alpha King, and agreed to return to the North and inherit the throne.

Alexander Gracias is the youngest CEO in Littleton Global’s history. Brilliant, ruthless, and utterly untouchable. Women are easy distractions he never lets too close… until the night he sees her. A mysterious stripper with hypnotic green eyes who vanishes before he can get her name. But fate has a wicked sense of humor. On day morning, she walks into him. demure, professional, and wearing a name tag that reads Mackenzie Jordans. His new secretary. His forbidden temptation. Mackenzie has spent years hiding a dangerous secret, one that could destroy the life she’s carefully built. By day, she’s the perfect assistant. By night, she’s Ramona the seductive performer stripper Now he’s determined to own her in the boardroom and beyond. But the closer he gets, he see she was a hard shell to crack. In a game of power, desire, and dangerous secrets… Who will break first? Excerpt from the book: “You look like you don’t scare easy,” she murmured as she came closer, her voice a low purr barely audible over the music. “I don’t scare at all,” he replied, taking a slow sip. She smiled at that, circling behind him. “We’ll see about that.” Her fingertips brushed along the back of his neck, feather-light. Then she came around to face him again, planting one heel between his knees. With a languid roll of her hips, she lowered herself onto his lap, her hair spilling over her shoulder, brushing against his cheek.

"First time?" he asks, lowering his hand to my abdomen, his body tensing. I bite my lip, seeing his eyes flash with something dark. He pushes deeper inside me, and I wince. Pain shoots through me, but pleasure quickly follows, numbing me to the world. The sparks and tingles distract me from the discomfort. "So tight," he murmurs as he pulls out. "Please," I moan recklessly, knowing I should stop him but It feels so good. "Eager to feel my c**k," he growls as he thrusts back inside me, his voice makes me forget the pain. But I lose myself, existing only for the man inside me. As the thrusts cease, his ragged breaths send shivers down my spine. I press my forehead into the pillow, disoriented. "Mine..." He growls. Then Asher takes a deep breath, and he says the words that shatter my heart. "I, Asher Knight, Alpha of the Redwood Pack, hereby reject you, Alethea Weaver of BloodMoon pack as my mate." *** Alethea hasn't fully awakened her wolf. Her life takes a darker turn when her father forces her to be a breeder to Xavier, the Beta of the Bluemoon Pack. But when Xavier's jealous girlfriend threatens her life, Alethea has no choice but to run. Alethea is attacked but saved by a shadowy figure-Alpha Asher, knowing she is his fated mate. With her wolf still dormant, Alethea is unaware of the deep connection between them. Asher, torn between duty ends things. A brutal accident leaves Alethea with no memory of her past-and no idea that she's carrying Asher's child. As she rebuilds her life, hidden truths, and long-buried secrets begin to resurface. Will she uncover why Asher pushed her away? And as rival packs close in, will she discover her power before it's too late?

“Yes, I am Dom. Your dom.” Did he say that last part or I imagined it? Letting out a shaky breath, I slid away from his lap. The front of my panties, scraped against his lap slowly as I slid from him and his light grey eyes darkened. I had no idea my pussy was so drenched that it left a mark on his pants. Jesus! Who is this man and what has he done to me? Soon I was seated beside him, his thighs pressing close to mine as we both drank. Electricity kept shooting tingles up my legs and I felt light-headed. He was silent and I suddenly felt nervous like I needed to speak to this deliciously fair man that sat brooding. Clearing my throat, I tapped his leg—unconsciously on the spot my pussy left—and he looked up, smirking at me. My mouth went dry immediately. “Is there something you want?” he asked. “Uh…No, I mean yes. Is this normal for you?” His handsome features morphed into a frown, “Having a girl leave a wet spot on my pants or taking wine in a bar?” I just discovered that my poor, useless, and filthy father who died a month ago left me a luxurious Cabin in Bakersfield. HOW!? Wish I insisted on that question. I shouldn’t have taken the plunge and moved into that house, but I am a broke, poor virgin and will soon be homeless, so I did. It might as well be the worst or best decision I have ever made because, in 12 hours, my life changed. COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER ON THE BOOK COVER!!!! contact the author for it to be removed if there is an issue

It's the final round of this year's Pack Pup Tournament. I can't take my eyes off my pup, Patrick Grant, as he wins the title. When the host calls Patrick's parents onstage to celebrate, I leap up, thrilled. But then I see Nicholas Grant, my Alpha mate, walk up with his secretary, Natalia Lawson. They stand side by side under the spotlight, kissing Patrick on both cheeks. It's as if Natalia is the mother, as if she's the Luna of our pack, as if they're the perfect family. I can only stand there in the audience, feeling the weight of countless startled stares, too ashamed to lift my head. Later, Nicholas brushes the incident off. "You were seated farther back. It was easier to bring Natalia up on stage," he explains. Easier? I swallow the humiliation and force myself to believe it was just an unfortunate coincidence—until today, that is. I sense through our blood bond that something's wrong with Patrick, so I drop everything and race to the pack hospital. But when I arrive, Patrick is lying in Natalia's lap, whining to her in a soft voice. I step forward to introduce myself, but the healer only looks surprised. "The emergency contact form lists Natalia as his mom, though." It turns out Patrick himself had stripped me of my role as his mother. And Nicholas didn't stop him. I finally understand. I don't belong in this family anymore. That night, I tell Nicholas I want to dissolve the mate bond between us. He doesn't even look up as he says, "Don't be dramatic. You'd dissolve our bond over a single name on a form?" "Yes."

His lap is my throne and my body is his salvation. Orphaned and enslaved, I was sold to Prince Erwin's palace to serve as his sex slave. They said the prince drinks blood daily and has a taste for killing people. That only blood, violence, and screams can arouse his sexual desire. His favourite colour was reddish blood, and my hair was red. Perhaps that's why he fell in love with me, made love with me almost every night, but sometimes his demonic side took over and he raped me me brutally. But deep in my heart, I know he loved me. He adorned me with the jewels, burned his own king-father alive, for me. He still chose me even though he was married to a beautiful noblewoman. And I loved him as well. He is the king of my body, my heart, and my soul. The prophecy says that I will die by his hand, and before that happens, I must free him from the curse he was born with. He is the beast, and I am the beauty. Can the beauty heal the beast? **** This story contains some adult concepts such as: - Slavery, Harem, and reverse harem (since the setting is in the 16th. I opposed slavery) - Graphic sexual and violent scenes (stay away if you are under 18) - Bloody vengeance (may be distressing to some readers. If you are easily triggered, it may be best to avoid this book) - Gods, Goddesses vs Demons (Based on Greek mythology, not suitable if you are too religious) This story is a work of fiction, intended to satisfy readers' wildest smut and romantic fantasies. Please do not read this book if you dislike the above topics. You have been warned.

Do you realize you just played with fire?” He asked in a deadly tone but Maya was too drunk to know what was going on. “Yh, and I loved the heat.” She replied drunkenly, wrapping her hands around his neck. “You’re going to regret this when you sober up,” he said, trying to peel her off him but she pouted and shook her head like a five year old whiles settling on his lap more comfortably. At least, comfortable for her not him because he was having a hard time controlling his little guy down there. “I need you to show me all the fire you possess, handsome,” she says before giving him a chaste kiss on his lips. **** Maya’s world came crushing when she finds her fiancé in bed with another woman. Out of sadness, she goes to a bar that same evening to drink her sorrows away. What happens when an out of control drunk Maya ends up on the laps of a cold hearted CEO. A dark night, series of misunderstandings, a contract, what happens after she sobers up and realizes what mess she has gotten into. Will she succeed in thawing the cold CEO and make him a bit soft and gentle? He tasted her and now he feels addicted. If her lips and innocent kiss could make him feel this way then what if he went further? What would happen to him if he crossed the forbidden gates. He’s been with a lot of women but no one has made him feel this way. He feel the walls he has built around him crack and his stone cold heart thaws whenever he’s with her. He wants her and would do anything to to have her and make her his.

They say a wedding dress is a promise of forever. Mine was a shroud for the girl I used to be. I was sold to a monster to pay for my father’s sins. I expected to spend my wedding night praying for a quick death at the hands of Don Moretti. Instead, I got a bloodbath. Before the first glass of champagne could shatter, the doors were kicked open by the city’s most terrifying nightmare: Dante "The Butcher" Vane. He didn't come to save me. He came to collect. By the time the sun rose, my husband was a corpse, my family home was in ashes, and I was draped across the lap of the man who had been stalking me from the shadows for years. "Your father didn't just owe the Don, Bianca," he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of my throat with lethal tenderness. "He owed me. And I’ve decided you’re the only currency I’ll accept." Now, I am a prisoner in his fortress—a gilded cage where the line between fear and desire is blurred by every dark touch. Dante is a tyrant, a red flag wrapped in Italian silk, and a man who claims to be my protector while keeping me in chains. But as the secrets of our shared past begin to bleed out, I realize the "Butcher" has a weakness. He doesn't just want my body; he wants my soul. He thinks he’s breaking me. He doesn't realize that in the silence of my mourning, I’ve stopped being the victim. I’m learning his triggers. I’m studying his scars. And once I make the King of the Underworld fall for the widow he created... I won't just take my freedom. I’ll take his empire.

The night before the wedding, I'm about to share the news of my pregnancy with Chester Miller when I see Giselle Thorne sitting in his lap intimately. I'm about to storm in and confront them when I notice a man standing beside them. That man looks exactly like Chester, my boyfriend. I freeze, holding my breath as their voices carry clearly through the room. "Chester, this is ruthless. You actually proposed to her. From what I know, Miranda poured so much effort into this wedding," Giselle says. Chester snorts. "Giselle, she ruins your work and costs you the chance to win. I can't wait to see her, all dressed in her wedding gown and beaming with joy, only to watch me walk down the aisle holding your hand. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." My eyes widen. It's clearly Giselle who has threatened me to hand over my work, and when she fails, she tears up her own painting in fear of losing the competition. Before I can react, the man who looks like Chester suddenly speaks. "Chester, who's walking down the aisle with her—you or me?" Chester chuckles. "Of course I am. Felix, have you forgotten? Miranda belongs to you only at night." In that instant, I finally understand why Chester Miller is cold by day and passionate by night. It turns out they aren't the same person at all. He and Felix are twin brothers. I clutch the pregnancy report tightly, pressing it against the doorframe as I glare at the three of them through the crack. "I won't let any of you get what you want," I vow silently.