Tease Melanie Harlow

SMUT WARNING!! : This book isn't sweet romance. It's filthy, raw and unapologetically dark. Expect: *Three brothers who don’t know the meaning of gentle.* *A heroine who moans even when she swears she won’t.* *Fingers, tongues, and c*cks where she least expects them.* ~~~♠~~~ “Spread wider, Angel,” Zane growled against my ear, his fingers ruthless between my thighs. Ziven's c*ck shoved deep down my throat, hot, thick and massive. “Right there. Open up and take it like the filthy tease you've been." And behind me, Zarek drove into me deeper, pounding and claiming every inch. “Feel that? Dripping wet. Doesn’t matter how hard I pound—she’ll still take more. She’s fucking built for it. Our c*cks.” I begged desperately— clenching, gushing, and trembling through every thrust and claim. I never thought I'd crave this— three brothers who claimed me, ruined me, and made me beg for more. But I do. God, I do. My name is Zayla Everly Hollis. I died the night I married Lugard Blade. He broke me and killed me. But fate brought me back. Given a second chance, I ran. Straight into the arms of the three most powerful men in Chicago. THE MADDOX BROTHERS. ZIVEN. Commanding, brilliant, and dangerous with a keyboard. ZAREK. Cold, ruthless, and sharp as glass. ZANE. Charming, wicked, and heartbreak in human form. They offered me safety. Then they became my obsession. Now they’re my only protection from the monster I once called husband. But with three billionaires wanting one broken girl, hearts will shatter. And when the past comes knocking… I’ll have to choose between revenge—and the triplets who made me feel alive again.

Joyce Stone, the beautiful and rich campus belle, often puts the tab on my account whenever she uses her card on any transactions. When she helps a low-income student with their financial problems, the money I save up from thrifting and working part-time jobs for the month is instantly depleted. When she treats the whole class to lunch, the prize money I won from my physics competition is drained right away. I try to argue with Joyce, only to hear the whole class calling me jealous of her beauty and kindness. Only my boyfriend, Lucas Zimmer, still trusts me. We work together to come up with all sorts of solutions to stop Joyce from using my money. But no matter what I do, my money keeps getting funneled from my account. Before the final exams, Joyce suddenly suggests that we all attend an auction and buy whatever we want there. The million-dollar funds that I've gathered from selling my house in order to treat my mom's illness vanishes from my account immediately. Mom ends up dying from her illness. Since I no longer have money in my account, my life force is the one getting depleted when Joyce keeps spending with her card. In the end, I've died as well. Before I close my eyes, I notice a video of Lucas and Joyce kissing on my phone. He looks at Joyce lovingly before saying, "Melanie gets jealous far too easily. If I don't pretend to trust her, I'm worried that she might go berserk and hurt you." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Joyce is about to use her card to pay for everyone's expenses. Before she can open her mouth, I dig out my bank card right away. "Let me treat all of you to whatever you want today."

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get scared again,” he whispered before returning his lips to my sensitive nipples. His hand slid lower, shifting my panties aside, the fabric brushing against my skin. “Someone might walk in,” I managed to say, though my voice was barely audible. “Forget everyone and focus on us,” he murmured. His fingers began to tease me, running over my clit with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. “I love how you’re always so wet for me,” he said, his tone filled with raw desire. As his pace quickened, his words urged me on. “Don’t hold back your moans. I want to hear all of it.” The knowledge that his office was soundproof was the only reassurance I had, but even then, I couldn’t trust my own voice. My body arched in response as he trailed kisses along my neck, his fingers moving with an intoxicating rhythm. “I love how your body reacts to my touch,” he murmured against my skin. “I could fuck you all day.” “Yes,” I moaned, unable to stop myself. “Yes, what?” he teased, his fingers moving even faster, pushing me closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Alex,” I gasped. ********************************************************** Six years ago, Alex broke me, leaving me humiliated, pregnant, and abandoned. He chose Camila, his flawless childhood friend, while I was left to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. But I survived, and for my son, I built a life I’m proud of. Now, Alex is after me, but stunned by the woman I’ve become, and the son who bears his resemblance. When he asked about his father, my son’s innocent reply said it all: "Mommy said he's dead." I couldn’t have said it better myself.

POV DE MELANIE Assise devant son bureau, je me demande encore comment j'en suis arrivée là. À une époque, nous partions à l'église avec mes parents. Je sais que les saintes Écritures disent de pardonner, mais je ne le pouvais pas. J'avais fait des recherches, et j'ai sauté sur cette opportunité lorsqu'elle m'a été présentée. — Monsieur Carlson vous reçoit dans 15 minutes. Ces quinze minutes semblent durer une éternité pour moi, et je ressers mes cuisses pour gérer mon impatience. Je saisis un des magazines posés sur la table basse, mais cela ne parvient pas à distraire mon esprit de l'homme qui se trouve derrière cette porte. _Mademoiselle Porter, vous pouvez entrer. Avec précaution, je me lève et pénètre dans le bureau. En ouvrant la porte, je constate qu'il n'a même pas détourné le regard de son ordinateur. Je l'avais déjà vu dans de nombreux magazines, mais le croiser ici, devant moi, me fait réaliser à quel point il est impressionnant. Je sais qu'au lycée, il faisait partie de l'équipe de football américain et qu'il aurait pu envisager une carrière professionnelle s'il l'avait souhaité. Je reste là, debout, à l'observer. Dès qu'il lève les yeux, je baisse les miens. Il venait de se lever et j'entendis le son de sa chaise. Je pouvais maintenant distinguer ses chaussures à proximité, indiquant qu'il était juste devant moi. _ Regardez-moi, mademoiselle Porter. Je lève les yeux et le fixe. POV DE DONOVAN Ses yeux étaient d'un marron étonnamment clair. Elle dégageait une odeur fraîche que je ne saurais décrire. Vêtue d'un jean taille haute et d'un crop top, elle paraissait plus jeune que ne le laissaient entendre ses informations, ce qui me réjouissait déjà. _ Savez-vous vraiment en quoi consiste ce travail ?