Novel & Cerita Touch The Sound Of Silence

"Tristan! Help!" I called out his name again. It was not a scream but a command. He didn't even flinch. "You know the rules, Juniper," he said, his voice fearfully calm. "I don't touch you. Don't use a fall to trick me into breaking those rules." .... But this mess is over. I’m done playing love with him. I’m returning to the Vangough seat. And as for the man who was allergic to my touch, he’s just about to find out how much it hurts when I finally let go—and take my empire with me. Tristan wants a divorce. But I’ll give him a battle he will never be able to endure.

He didn't stop when he reached her but leaned forward and kissed her hard, on the mouth. The air left her lungs. Maybe it was because it was her first kiss or because he had kissed her, she didn't know but her lungs were burning, her lips were on fire. She was one fire. It ended in a second. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back. His hand traced her forehead, nose, lips and then chin as it stopped on her throat. She knew, by God she knew he could feel her pulse, the heat on her cheeks. "I'm home." Dean Woodland left two years ago without a word or sound and now he is back to bring his belongings with him.

"Marry me." He said with a straight face, casually, as if he was talking about the weather. "You're joking right?" "Why would you ask me that kind of question?" He frowns "It's because you sound ridiculous," she bit out harshly. "You know what's more ridiculous?" he smirked darkly, showing his straight white teeth. "A lifetime of debt." Emily breathed harshly, knowing Sebastian as she has for four years, he could be brutal when he doesn't get what he wants, she had never been on the receiving end of his competitive side when it comes to closing deals, yet here she was facing him, chills running down her back, heart beating fast as if she ran a marathon. She was terrified of what the future holds.

He doesn’t knock. He breaks the door down—and your back with it. In Nailed: Men In Heat, the men are ruthless, brutal, and always hard. They bend you over desks, shove you face-first into pillows, and split you open like they paid for the right. No sweet talk. No cuddling. Just cum, bruises, and the sound of skin slapping skin. You’ll gag. You’ll drool. You’ll beg. And he’ll just keep going. Spit-soaked. Ass-up. Throat-fucked. He’ll ruin your hole, coat your insides, and leave you leaking for days. If you’re not shaking by the end of the chapter? You’ll be begging for the next man to finish the job. These are raw, relentless, hole-filling fucks—and they always finish deep. One thrust and you’re addicted.

Lisa is a poor, struggling and desperate woman who would do anything to save her sick and dying mother. Adrian is a billionaire CEO who needs a wife to secure his inheritance and silence his enemies. A contract marriage brings two opposite strangers together, but love was never part of the deal.

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.

I left one dire situation and landed in another! Why can't fairies be sweet?! My name is Jessa, and I recently took a trip to Ancient Troy because I said, "I didn't believe in fairies," while sitting on a fairy hill, during a full eclipse. I was on vacation with my family in Ireland, and my sister Meena was with me on the hill when I was sucked through time! Now, I ripped through time again, landing in Ancient Pompeii. Right before Mount Vesuvius destroys the whole area! The best part? My Trojan Prince husband has a twin in Rome and has purchased me as a slave! Why couldn't I return to my own time! Do you want to hear some sound advice? Don't ever piss-off a fairy!

Chloe, the maid I share a room with, is dead. I watched the head housekeeper and another maid pin her to the floor. I watched them as the housekeeper vomited up a slimy, black web of fungus and forced it down Chloe's throat. I should have screamed. I wanted to. But my selective mutism took over, trapping the sound in my throat. It probably saved my life. The next day, Chloe was alive again. She walked into the young miss’s room to brush her hair, just like always. I was so scared I dropped the water basin I was holding. As I stood there, frozen, the young miss leaned in close, her voice a whisper only I could hear. "You've noticed it too, haven't you? They're not themselves anymore."

Seraphina, a cursed she-wolf seer, works at The Velvet Fang, a high-end exclusive club for supernatural and humans alike. After a few years of living under the radar, her peace shatters when a desperate alpha whose mate she once failed to save seeks her expertise again, not knowing she was the same she-wolf he encountered in the past. Struggling with guilt and fear, she tries to flee the encounter, but collides with a mysterious stranger whose touch both unnerves and enchants her. His touch awakens something dark and dangerously addictive within her, leaving her shaken and confused. In one night, the past she's been running away from and something new and dangerous both find her at the same time... and neither seems willing to let her go.

️ 18+ ONLY. If you are under 18, close this now. This book contains extremely explicit sexual content, taboo stepfather/stepdaughter dynamics, power play, and graphic erotic scenes. Strictly 18+ only. Read at your own risk. “Don’t make a sound,” he growled against my ear, his hand sliding between my thighs. “Not one sound, or I stop and we both know you don’t want me to stop.” He was right. God help me, he was right. Caden Voss is my stepfather. Forty-two, ruthless, built like sin and cold as steel. The kind of man who makes grown men flinch and panties drop without trying. He married my mother. And he has his fingers buried inside me while my mother sleeps down the hall. I came back home at twenty-one thinking I could handle him. Thinking the attraction was just a stupid crush I’d grown out of. But nothing prepares you for Caden Voss up close his voice, his hands, the way his eyes strip you naked before he’s touched a single inch of you. He fought it. Weeks of cold silences and hard stares and pretending he didn’t watch my mouth when I talked. Then one night he stopped pretending. Now he has me bent over his desk every chance he gets, hand wrapped in my hair, whispering filthy things against my skin that make me forget my own name. He knows exactly how to make me beg. Exactly how to stretch me open and fill me so deep I’m sobbing into the pillow trying not to wake the whole house. It’s wrong. It’s filthy. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt. And I don’t want him to stop. Not even a little.