Therapist Couch

The day my husband's first love shows up at my house, I catch a faint, cloyingly sweet scent of gardenias in the air. My genetically-linked asthma flares violently at the scent of gardenias. As expected, halfway through the meal, my chest suddenly tightens. I can barely draw a breath before collapsing onto the couch. My younger brother sprints into my bedroom like he's lost his mind, grabs an inhaler, and shoves it straight to my mouth. "Tess!" he roars. "Why the hell is there gardenia perfume?" Everyone panics. My dad grabs a liquor bottle. My mom lunges forward, grabbing the woman by the hair. And my husband positions himself in front of her, protecting his beloved first love as she trembles. Amid the chaos, I muster the last of my strength. I reach into the crack of the couch, grab another inhaler, take a deep breath, and slowly push myself upright. I let out a cold laugh as I fix my gaze on the woman cowering behind my husband. "Finished with your little performance? It's my turn now."

I was diagnosed with late stage the Hollowing—Wolf Soul Degeneration. According to the Compatible Soul Restructuring Program, I could survive by receiving a soul transplant. If no match were found, I would be brain-dead in three months. After more than two months of waiting, the soul that matched me best was given away by my mate to my sister. The therapist recommended that I keep waiting for a new match, but I refused. I signed a treatment waiver and left Central Medical Center early. All the wealth and resources I had spent years saving—I gave every last bit to my sister, Lisa. For the first time, during the full moon family dinner, my parents smiled at me. My mate moved into Lisa’s room to take care of her. I did not get angry. I even made him breakfast. Even when my little pup asked if she could be his mom, I nodded and said yes. I gave them everything they wanted. So why are they regretting it now? …

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE FEATURING DARK CONTENT AND MORALLY AMBIGUOUS CHARACTERS. Her new life is a lie. Her fiancé's a liar. And the supposedly dead woman on her couch? She's the worst kind of truth. **** Claire thought she had it all: a perfect fiancé, a beautiful home, a successful career. Until she finds out her relationship is built on a decade of deceit and secrets. Her supposedly dead rival, the woman her fiancé, Levi, claimed to have grieved, is back—and the worst twist of all? She's the same woman who raised Levi as his stepmother. Desperate to escape the fallout, Claire drives headlong into the night, only to crash her car and be saved by a mysterious stranger. He claims to be Zeke her long-lost lover, the man she shared a passionate past with, a life she has no memory of. Now, Claire is trapped between two men: Levi, the manipulative but tormented fiancé, who is fighting desperately to prove his love and earn her forgiveness, and Zeke, the stranger who feels dangerously familiar and holds the key to the woman she used to be. Which lie will save her, and which truth will finally break her?

Oh yeah! Oh Brandon!" Alex screams as I suck her clit into my mouth and gently tap it with my tongue. Sliding a finger into her pussy, I piston it in and out while I devour her clit with my mouth. Alex is rocking all over the couch now, moaning and crying words of encouragement. "Oh! Oh! Just like that! Oh yeah! Oh Fuck!" she pants, as she grabs my hair and humps her pussy against my face. ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a filthy, no-limits collection of taboo erotic. Step siblings, step-daddies, group play, rough dominance, lesbian heat, orgies, and kinks that would make the devil blush. If that scares you… keep scrolling. Still here? Good. You’re exactly who this is for. This isn’t romance with a side of spice. This is pure, addictive, taboo sex—short, interconnected stories that keep getting darker, wetter, and more forbidden. This story pushes limits, shatters morals, and explores the kind of desire people pretend they don’t fantasize about. The first hit is free. The rest will cost you coins—and maybe your morals. If you’re ready for sin without apology… enter.

Every day, my son and husband finish all the house chores before I even get home. But only because they're bringing my husband's first love, Sally Sullivan, back for Thanksgiving, I pour boiling water on my son's face. I also kick both my son and husband out when it's 104°F outside. Desperate to save our son, my husband sprawls across the front porch, begging me to open the door. "Wanda, open the door! We need to save our son! I only invited Sally over because she saved you once back then. I didn't mean anything else by it!" "Mom, it hurts!" my son cries. "Mom, can't you kiss me? Mom…" Meanwhile, I'm slouching on the couch, snacking away as I watch TV. In the end, my husband can't take it anymore and brings me to the Bad Mom Court for trial. The moment my memories are extracted, the entire court bursts into tears.

We tumbled onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. His touch was everywhere, exploring, teasing, and I matched him with equal fervor. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the two of us, lost in this heady intoxication. His lips traced a path down my neck, his hands exploring the curves of my body as if mapping them for the first time.yy “Do you want this?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. “Yes,” I breathed, my voice trembling with anticipation. ____ With the death of her parents, the bankruptcy of the company, and the betrayal of her fiancé, Emma Parker goes to a bar to get drunk, but accidentally takes Logan Carter as her pimp and sleeps with him, and the next day Emma Parker is afraid to see Logan Carter' face and leaves in a hurry (Logan Carter wears a mask) . Four years later, Emma Parker returns with four children, but accidentally meets Logan Carter again. However, at this time Emma Parker did not know that Logan Carter was the pimp at that time, and after the accidental reunion, Logan Carter felt that the four children around Emma Parker were his own children, and he also recognized Emma Parker as the woman who slept with the four of him.

Aurelia cross was never meant to fall for the one man that held her future in his hands, not when he was her professor at her law school, not when he was the boss and owner of the law firm she had just started to intern at, not when he was the Levi Vale, the infamous billionaire and prolific lawyer who hides too many scars behind his icy blue eyes and stony expression. Should the fact that her brother’s freedom hung loosely in the balance should she choose to give in to her forbidden desires stop her? Probably but what’s life with a little sin right? Levi Vale, the enigma of a lawyer and business mogul however has one too many skeletons in his cupboard, one of them- he is an unfeeling sociopath who is caught by surprise as he watches the talented and confident Aurelia in his class as she dominated every single time. Diagnosed by his therapist, he is declared to have a condition where he feels nothing but the brown skinned sharp mouthed lawyer in his class and office fills his heart and mind with something that feels a lot like……emotion.

After dating Asher Bennett for ten years, he finally proposes to me. He puts a blindfold on me, claiming that he wants to give me a surprise. But the moment I step into the room, I feel a bucket of cold water being splashed onto me. "When are you going to wake up from your fantasies, Claire Sutton? Why would I even marry you in the first place?" With trembling hands, I take off the blindfold, only to see Asher sitting on the couch while drinking some alcohol languidly. "See? I told you she'd come! Whoever's the loser of this bet, you'd better pay for the drinks!" Upon noticing my silence, Asher says mockingly, "Hey, Claire! You're not getting any younger, you know! So, you might as well just marry some random dude at this point to avoid growing old all by your lonesome!" The moment his words fall, his friends all laugh at me while looking at me in disdain. But when I follow Asher's instructions and marry another man, why is it that he regrets letting me go?

I watched Ryan die. So how is Ben wearing his face? Six years ago, I watched my best friend--and secret crush--splatter all over the pavement. He died. I saw him. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've never stopped looking for him. Seeing him in crowds, in the classroom, in my dreams--and my nightmares. It's cost me everything--my identity, my sanity, and maybe my life. So when I walk into class to see a man who looks exactly like Ryan standing before me, I freak out again. My therapist tells me to stay away from Ben. He's no good for me. I'll end up back in a padded room. But I have to know the truth. Is Ben really Ryan? That's not possible. But Ben has scars--real ones and metaphorical ones. If Ben is Ryan, why doesn't he just tell me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? Or worse--is he trying to kill me? The Boy Who Died is the first romantic suspense novel from bestselling romantacy author Bella Moondragon writing as B. Moon. If you love romantic suspense, are a fan of Colleen Hoover, Gillian Flynn, Christopher Greyson, or Paula Hawkins, you won't want to miss this page-turner!