Tablet Lap Pillow Novels & Stories

Vinnie Hart is running out of time. So when an opportunity drops into her lap to fulfill her dreams without having to depend on her family and friends, she takes it without an ounce of hesitation. The only thing that bothers Ethan Doyle is that he doesn't want Vinnie to fall for him. It's something he has dealt with in the past and doesn't want to deal with anymore. She is sweet, innocent, and naive, not to mention mute. She's exactly the kind of woman he shouldn't be having this erotic arrangement with. He would hate to break her heart. But little does he know that the secret Vinnie is hiding behind those innocent eyes and fascinating laughs is a permanent reminder not to break any of his rules, let alone the most important one: never fall in love with the boss. UPDATED: EVERY SUNDAY

Three years ago, Arthur swore a blood oath at the Moon Altar. No other she-wolf would ever touch him. Only me. Forever. Three years later, he drugged me with wolfsbane wine, stole my Alpha Seal, and opened Silver Moon's borders to the Rogues himself. My parents took silver to the heart. My sister was sold to the Crimson Court. My pack burned. He crushed my jaw and forced me to watch. "They called me your lap dog. I destroyed you to prove I was no dog." He thought he had all the time in the world to break me. He didn't know. When I had pulled him from that Rogue ambush in the ice, a moonstone shard had pierced my heart. I had three days left to live.

“Fuck me, Victor!” My boyfriend is lying on the bed. The woman bouncing on his lap was a stranger. She had cat-shaped ears that were out, her tail swishing back and forth. I stood there for a while, in shock. Victor is the basketball star of this school, and a werewolf. I’m a human girl, mysteriously chosen to attend this school, and everyone says I’m not good enough for him. I just never imagined we’d break up that way. A week later, desperate to cover my grandma’s surgery, I signed up for surrogacy. When our dean introduced the new professor to us. I was shocked. My surrogacy client was a new professor at this school！ “You need to stay away from that man,” my ex-boyfriend growled, “He’s my Uncle and he is bad fucking news.”

He gropes my breast harshly forcing a moan out of my lips, I squeezed my thigh together instantly feeling an ache on my clit down there, creaming my thong. I didn't know how it happened but I was fully stark naked, my firm boobs bouncing out freely in his views. He pressed on me harder with his mouth on my ear lobe " I, Orion do not share what is mine and you are MINE!" He didn't leave a room for response as his hot mouth now on my left breast, his hand kneading the right one. I groaned louder unable to articulate how to handle those heavy feelings. He lifted me off my feet and carried me to the bed kissing me the whole time, With a soft bounce I fell onto the mattress, his hand caressing my inner thigh, my head rocked back against the pillow, he pushed his finger under my thong after kneading my swollen clit so much, I groaned loudly arching my back and shuddered beneath him.

To protect my boyfriend, Nico, the illegitimate son of our allies, the Moretti family, from their internal power struggles, I agreed to leave New York with him. But on the eve of my adoptive father, the Don of the Falcone family, signing our transfer orders, he backed out. Through the hidden door of the cigar lounge, I heard his right-hand man tease him: "So you really kept up that act for three months just to get rid of the princess?" "But she's your childhood sweetheart. You really have the heart to some miserable fishing village in the Baltics all by herself?" Nico's voice was nonchalant. "It's just an outpost across the pond. How far can it be?" "Scarlett is too controlling. If I don't get her out of the picture, how am I supposed to get any breathing room? Besides, I need to put Chloe at ease." I stood behind that hidden door for a long time that night, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles were white, before I finally let go. I turned and walked away, pulling out my tablet to change my flight plan. I changed the destination from the official plan of that desolate Baltic outpost to a seat at the High Table in Sicily, which is the absolute center of old-world Mafia power. Everyone seemed to have forgotten. I am the princess of the Falcone family. And he is nothing but filth from the gutter. We were never a match.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

In my third year of running a flower shop to support my boyfriend, he went bankrupt again. The first time he went bankrupt, I sold the house my grandmother left me and paid off $700,000 for him. The second time, I dug out the savings account my mother had left me as my wedding fund and paid off another $1.6 million. The third time, I looked at the lost, empty look in his eyes and held the number of my billionaire father, the man I had long since considered dead to me, wondering whether I should call him. But that night, I accidentally saw the messages in a small group chat on his tablet. "Mr. Hart, how much should we put on the repayment contract for this bankruptcy?" "Make it $10 million. Otherwise that flower-shop girl will pay it all off in one go again, and where's the fun in that?" "Mr. Hart really knows how to play. I heard that flower-shop girl tends flowers by day and tends to you by night. No wonder you never get tired of her." I put down his tablet and called my billionaire father. "Isn't this what you wanted? To force me to inherit the family business and marry your protege? Fine. I'll marry him. "Have somebody come pick me up in three days."

When my identity as a spy for the enemy nation was exposed, my two childhood friends faked their deaths and made a bet. Whose memorial tablet I chose to marry at the altar would be the one to protect me. One was Rio Murray, the young general to whom I was betrothed. The other was Prince Bayram, who had concealed my identity as a spy for many years. But I chose neither for the simple fact that I had lived this life twice. During my first time, I chose Rio, only to be buried alive by the prince, who had “returned from the dead.” During my second time, I chose Bayram, only to be torn to pieces by vultures sent by Rio. Later, I learned that all those years of care had been a facade. It was because they had mistaken me for their dream girl, who had been abducted by the enemy nation in childhood and vanished without a trace. They hated me for usurping her place. So under the pretext of eliminating a rival, they subjected me to the agony of slow torture! This time, I ignored both memorial tablets placed before me. Amid the gasps of the crowd, I produced the Royal Decree and declared while enunciating every word clearly. “I am already betrothed; I’m afraid I cannot choose.”

The day before my period, I found a note on my fiancé's phone. [Her period starts tomorrow. I already packed pads and painkillers in her bag.] I smiled. It was such a small thing, but it felt thoughtful. The next day, a dull ache twisted in my lower stomach. Pale and uncomfortable, I dug through my crossbody bag. Nothing. Dark red blood stained my pants. Students pointed behind me and whispered with awkward laughs. I figured he'd just forgotten at the last minute. Then the new intern teacher posted on social media. [Just started working, and my supervising teacher is literally the sweetest! He even got me pads and painkillers. This period has been pain-free!] The photo showed a pack of pads, an ibuprofen tablet, and a mug of ginger tea. The painkillers were mine—the ones I'd kept stocked at home for years because of my cramps. The pads were the only brand my skin could tolerate. I turned off my phone and stared at the engagement ring on my finger for a long time. Then I stood up and headed to the principal's office to apply for the overseas teacher exchange program. Seven years. He still couldn't remember my cycle. And now, he never would have to.

REINA Five thousand dollars to babysit Alan King's adorable, grieving son for Christmas break. The moment I perch on his lap to sign the contract, I know this would be much more than a simple nanny job. Nannies don't wear cuffs or collars, and they definitely don't choke on their boss's c**k. Right? ALAN She's bright, loud, annoyingly delicate-and eighteen years younger. Yet, all I can think of is how to break her in the filthiest ways possible. She doesn't belong in my world, but she's brave enough to step in. Reina Summers is completely mine this Christmas, and I plan to unwrap every inch of her until she learns exactly who she belongs to. WARNING: THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE. SCORCHING HEAT WITHIN. HIGHLY ADDICTIVE.