Throat Tightness

Adelaide should have died on Selection Night. Instead, the Devil carried her across the veil—bleeding, furious, and burning with magic she shouldn’t possess. They're bonded, like it or not. Her power destabilises his realm. Their desire threatens to consume them both. As Hell twists and reshapes itself around her presence, one truth becomes impossible to ignore: Adelaide isn’t just his chosen. She’s the spark that could remake the underworld… or rule it. If she survives him long enough to claim the crown. ****Excerpt**** Adelaide hung suspended in the Devil’s ropes—breathless, trembling, every inch of her alive with flame. He circled her like a predator savouring the final moment before the kill. But he wasn’t hunting her. He was devouring the sight. “Look at you,” Apollo murmured, touching a glowing fingertip to the curve of her hip. Her body jolted, heat spiralling through her so sharply her vision blurred. “My Little Flame… you burn so beautifully.” The ropes tightened at his silent command, lifting her chest, arching her spine. Her breath broke. Magic crackled between them, alive and ravenous. He dragged a slow trail of fire up her ribs. She shuddered. “Tell me you feel it,” he whispered against her ear. She hated how fast the answer came. “Yes.” His grip closed around her throat—not harsh, but claiming—and her pulse leapt into his palm as if reaching for him. “You deny me with your mouth,” he said, “but your body kneels.” Heat built—pressure, light, something too big for her ribs. “Apollo—please—” “Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Give in.” She did. Her flame erupted in a blinding burst, racing along the ropes, lighting the chamber in gold. Apollo inhaled sharply, awe and hunger twisting his features. “Good girl,” he breathed, ruined by the sight. “Burn for me.”

“Give me your hands,” he ordered, coldly. I froze, watching him loosen his tie as he walked closer. Something about him felt… off. Mean. Distant. My throat went dry, but I gave him my hands anyway. He gripped my wrists—tight enough for my pulse to throb under his fingers. He wrapped the tie around them and pulled, dragging me up the bed like an animal on a leash. My back hit the headboard. Before I could react, he tied the other end of the tie to the frame. Then he reached for the veil on the nightstand. “What are you doing?” I asked, heart racing. He didn’t answer….just placed the veil over my head like I was a doll. “Making sure I don’t see your face and wish it was hers,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. I blinked. “Hers?” He leaned in. His jaw clenched. “Your twin sister,” he said. “I wanted her. Not you.” His words felt like someone yanked the floor right under me. “I should be with her,” he added cruelly. “Loving her. Worshiping her. Not stuck with a knockoff pretending to be my wife.” I couldn’t breathe. My hands fought the tie, but it was useless. I was trapped, veiled and bound. Lucian didn’t want me. He wanted ‘her’ instead. —------------- Losing her clinic was devastating. Facing eviction was worse. But accepting a mysterious nursing job? That was desperation at its finest. What Scarlett Ashford didn’t expect was that her patient would be her terminally ill twin, the same sister she’d cut ties with. And Lucian Montgomery, her sister’s cold billionaire husband, offered her a proposition far beyond medical care. He wanted her to be his surrogate. Scarlett wonders—what twisted melodrama has she gotten herself into?

My breath caught in my throat the moment my eyes dropped between his legs. Oh God. His cock was hard, heavy, long, impossible to ignore. Panic filled my chest. “Is… that going inside me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice didn’t even sound like mine, small, breakable. “Oh, sweet doll…” His voice dropped, gravelly and dark. “It’s not just going inside you.” He stepped closer, towering over me. My skin heated as his hand wrapped around himself, stroking twice. He swelled even larger, as though to prove the threat in his words. “It’s going to stretch you wide open. You’ll feel me for days. You’ll walk with the memory of me buried deep, dripping down your thighs. You’ll cry from it, shake from it, and still… you’ll beg for more.” “Oh…” The sound tore from me, heavy with terror. I was sold for three million dollars to the man who killed my father. Dante De Luca, older, ruthless, dangerously handsome and untouchable. He didn’t buy me for a night. He bought me for a lifetime, to make me his mistress… and then, his wife. Trapped in a contract marriage, I vowed never to love him. But my body betrayed me. His possessive kisses. His punishing touch. I found myself wanting more. Craving him. Yearning for everything he gave. Dante wanted revenge, because my father killed his wife and stole his Mafia kingship. He wanted to punish me. He wanted to break me. But somewhere in his quest to cause me pain… he began to fall and save me, even from my own father. Now, when loyalty calls upon me, I’m torn. Between the man who raised me… and the man who owns my heart.

I was already halfway across the room before I knew what I was doing. What kind of people had she been surrounding herself with if she thought that she wasn't attractive? Hell, she was gorgeous, delicious, downright perfect in every way. I needed to show her what I saw. What she was in my eyes. I couldn't help myself. I had Genevieve up against the wall in a blink of an eye, a growl escaping my throat and mixing with her surprised gasp. Her hands still clung to the robe, trying to make herself seem smaller. I slipped one hand underneath, along her collarbone, while the other slid along her neck, to the back of her head where I gripped her loose bun and pulled it taught. "Babygirl, you're more than just attractive. You have my c*ck aching every time I set my eyes on you.” My voice was a distorted growl, but I know she understood every word I said. I leaned my body in against hers to accentuate my point, and Genevieve's adorable mouth widened with a surprised gasp. I took that opportunity to claim what I'd been dreaming off since the moment I set my eyes on her. I dipped my head and locked my lips on hers, and realized in that sweet, blissful moment, that I had f*cked up. *** Genevieve Blake was a well-known, erotic romance author. She enjoyed meeting her fans and writing stories that made even her blush. What she hadn't planned on, though, was for a stalker to come out from the shadows and threaten her life. When the police can't do anything, she turns to Grim Security to protect her against the deranged lunatic. But who's going to protect her heart, and her body, from the intensity of Raphael Bard?

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.

Keith Anderson, the perfect son and the perfect CEO who is admired by everyone in town had a dark side. Once a spoiled brat who did a sin which he wouldn't able to accept himself lives in constant fight with his innerself. To get remorse from his sins he did a ironic thing. He became the city's most feared Mafia Don under a disguise as Kenny. His ideology is simple. He did a sin and now he became the devil who doesn't allow anymore sins. Julie Lexington, a 25 years old single mom who was disowned by her family after she got pregnant by an guy and refused abortion. Unfortunately, her five years old daughter is diagnosed with a dangerous disease and she don't have enough funds to afford her medicine. And that's when their path crossed. "Maybe you should sell yourself." Julie heard the bartender say and controlled her anger and started walking away from the bar as her shift ends. "He will pay 2000 dollars per hour." the bartender continue and smirked seeing Julie stopped walking and looking at him hesitantly with her hazel green eyes. Those dollars can give her daughter best treatment. She gulp down the pain in her throat as she prepared herself to sell her body to an unknown stranger. "Ahem ahem" she heard the locking of door and turned around to see a masked man with familiar eyes but she can't make out who is that. "I thought I spoiled your life." he whispered misunderstanding her situation as her eyes welled up hearing a familiar voice again. No this can't be. She told to herself as she came face to face with the guy she gave herself to years ago. "Keith?" and he stood frozen to his place wondering how she know his name.

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

"Take my life but don't ruin my soul, please... I...I am a widow, " Tears streamed down from her eyes watching that sinister man hovering over her and she softly hissed, when he slightly pressed the tip of the knife against her chin. "I didn't take your husband's life in front of your own eyes so that I could let you go, " And her gaze got befuddled when she had found him to wipe the that knife against those tears in the corner of her eyes which made her fear to engulf her more vigorously because she thought he was going to pierce it into her skin because she had seen him taking uncountable number of lives with no remorse. She again shut her lashes and waited to feel the sharp pain of her skin penetration but in the very next second, she felt the knife to get apart from her skin and warm drops of liquid falling on her lips and her eyes got opened when that liquid proceeded inside her parted lips and her tongue felt that metallic taste and see saw his palm bleeding. She teared up like a child by watching his soul quivering smirk. "Leave me.. Lea..." Her words got stuck into her throat when she felt his palm to grab her jaw which made her stirred and then she looked into his flaming darken eyes with her redden watery ones and her body turned numb ,feeling his palm getting inside her panties whereas, her eyes never stopped shedding tears . "Why? " That question fell out from her mouth which was reeking over her whole existence. Why was she going to endure all of that and why was she fated to get ruined by him ? "Because I am insane for you…." *DARK ROMANCE*

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.

"You think you know hate, Avery?" His voice a dangerous rumble that seemed to roll straight through me. "Hate is easy. It’s the love that complicates everything." "Love? Don't talk to me about love. You wouldn't recognize it if it clawed its way into your heart." Liam's expression darkened, "And whose fault is that, remind me? You destroyed every ounce of it." My eyes filled with tears instantly, my voice so thick, it hurt my throat as the words came out. "And you made me pay for it, in the most horrible way. A person who loved a girl with his whole heart would never be able to do what you've done, what you've allowed to happen. That's why I hate you, because you never loved me, or else you couldn't do all this to me." His eyes sparked with anger "You have no idea what you're talking about." "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," I shot back bitterly, "But it seems like the only thing you're good at is pretending. Pretending to care, pretending to love—" "That's enough!" his voice boomed. "You want to see how real my feelings are? I should teach you a lesson on underestimating them." I tilted my chin up in defiance "Go on then, teach me." The next moment was a blur of motion as he closed the distance between us. His hands gripped my face, not gentle but not cruel—a fervent, desperate hold. His lips met mine in an intense, raw kiss, fueled by anger and deep, relentless desire. The kiss was punishing, his mouth moving against mine with a fierce urgency that left no room for doubts or second thoughts. As he pulled back, his eyes bore into mine, challenging, questioning, daring me to deny what lay between us.