Trembling Hand Equilibrium

On the day the true heiress and I swapped places, my childhood sweetheart, bound to me by a promise made in youth, gripped my hand before our families and declared, "I chose you, not your title." Anna Pedersen, tears brimming in her eyes, enveloped me in a trembling embrace. "Joanne, we'll always be family. I'd never take what's rightfully yours." Everyone assumed I'd turned misfortune into fortune. Though I lost my status as the Pedersen heiress, I gained a steadfast lover and a selfless sister. But three years after fate corrected itself, photos of Calvin Thomas escorting Anna to a prenatal checkup flooded the internet. When I confronted him, he exhaled a plume of smoke and said coolly, "Anna is my true betrothed. This is just setting things right. Why are you so worked up?" He seized my wrist and dragged our engraved engagement ring across the back of my hand, leaving a bloody gash. "This scar will remind you of the twenty years of life you stole. Your life and I belong to their rightful owner."

I quickly rushed ahead and saw her lying near the edge where the huge cut tree had fallen a few days ago. Half of her body was resting in water while the other half was resting on the side of the tree. "No," I whispered as I ran ahead, instantly jumping into the river and grabbing her body, pulling it into my arms. I was sniffling and trying to hold back my tears while I swam back to land. Once she was placed on the ground, I looked at her helplessly, tears running down my cheeks. My body was trembling, and my wolf was whimpering loudly. I felt nauseous, and my head was throbbing badly. "She's fine," I said to myself in a cracked voice as I raised my hand and placed it on her chest. "Alpha!" Harvey called when he reached where I was. I looked at him with blurry vision, then back at my mate. "Why?" I whispered in a cracked voice. "Why can't I feel her heartbeat, Harvey?" I asked with a heavy heart, then moved my hand to my chest as I felt like I was suffocating.

The day Yancy Shepherd died, Benedict Page poisoned our dinner. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot, as he watched me writhe in agony. There was a madness in his gaze, but worse was the hatred, a disgust so deep it twisted his face into something unrecognizable. "If it weren't for you forcing your way into our lives, Yancy wouldn’t have died from heartbreak. You ruined us! It’s all your fault!" A photo slipped from his trembling hand and landed at my feet—Yancy at twenty, looking radiant, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. I collapsed to the ground, my strength fading fast like a rose withering in the final grasp of winter. Helpless, I waited for the darkness to claim me, consumed by despair and bitter regret. Why hadn’t I listened to the system and killed him when I had the chance? But when I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I stood watching Benedict flee our engagement ceremony. My brother moved to chase after him, but I quietly raised a hand, stopping him. This time, things would be different.

Blurb: "You're mine! You're my wife. You're fucking MINE" my husband roared furiously while he was pushing me towards the wall. I lowered my hand to protect my belly, he didn't know that I'm pregnant yet. "I will never leave you, I will never let you go. I'm drowning without you" he whispered desperately this time, leaning his forehead on mine. My eyes were cloudy, I lifted my other hand and caressed his cheek. I know that he needs me, I know he wants me, but not as a wife. He just needs my body, it always about my body and sex, and it will always be just about them. He needs me to be his submissive. His sex slave. With trembling voice I mumbled, "I'm not, Raf. I'm not yours. We can't be together, we came to the end of this useless marriage" His phone rang. It was Debbie, the other woman! He tightened his jaw and clenched his fists and said, "I wil take this call and get back to finish our talk" Once he left the room, my tears flowed like a river on my burning cheeks. I knew it, he will always choose her. I wiped my tears harshly and made a phone call, "I'm leaving, can you take me to the airport?.." Trembling, I took a step towards my closet to put something on to hide the bruises on my body. ________ I'm Natalie, this is my story. I loved my husband with all of my heart. Although he was dark, vicious, and sadistic. I was his little dirty secret. We got married under some circumstances. No one ever knew about this marriage. I made my decision, I will never go back to him. I will never let him treat me like his submissive again, NEVER!

For sixteen long years, Eulalia Clearwater gave everything to Percival Dunraven, her first and only love, only to be cruelly pushed aside for his new infatuation. Percival believed that without Eulalia, a world of happiness awaited him, a fresh start with a new love. But when he stumbled upon Eulalia's devastating medical diagnosis, panic set in. Rushing to her side, he found her hand entwined with another's, her eyes filled with a resolve he had never seen before. "Why didn't you tell me about your stomach cancer?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and regret. Eulalia's response was a bitter laugh, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of pain and liberation. "Didn't you wish for my early demise?" she mocked. "Percival Dunraven, in the final moments of my life, I no longer want to love you."

Five years had gone by since my death. The cops called my mom and told her they got news about me. My mother and brother marched to my grandmother's home and kicked her door down. "Where's Charlie? That shameless woman has been hiding from us far too long. Her brother needs her cornea, and she's giving it to him!" "Charlie's dead," said my grandmother, sobbing. My mother sneered. "As if. The cops called us. They said they had her news. Hand her over or get out of the house, you hag." My grandmother looked at her daughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. With trembling hands, she took my photo out. "I wonder if you've ever regretted saving your brother, Charlie."

"Is this what you wanted? On your knees, getting fucked by the man you should be calling 'Daddy'?" In the mirror, I'm on all fours. He flips my skirt up, one hand crushing my throat, the other slapping my ass raw as his massive cock slams into me without warning. I'm trembling so hard I can barely hold myself up. But he won't let me fall. "Ass up." He bends me over, his hand a firm pressure on my back. Lorenzo Vitale. The most feared mafia godfather in New York. He never gives an order twice. ** On my birthday, my boyfriend betrayed me for power—fucking Lorenzo's adopted daughter behind my back. They drugged me, sent me into a BDSM club to become Lorenzo's plaything, tried to destroy my reputation. What they didn't know? Twelve years ago, Lorenzo adopted the wrong girl. I'm the real mafia princess. Now he's begging for me back. But I've already fallen for the man I should be calling Daddy. I fantasized about being fucked by him—a forbidden desire I had no right to feel.

His rough hand slid up my bare thigh, parting my knees, rushing delicious heat through my body. “Don't look at me like that,” he growled, his mouth grazing the corner of mine. “Unless you want me to show you how a king worships his queen, little fawn.” … Mute and wolf-less, Liora had always been the shadow in her own home, treated as nothing more than a servant. Besides endless labor, her blood was drained to cure her stepsister’s strange illness. When rogues threatened their pack, her father made the cruelest choice: he offered Liora to the monstrous Lycan King, Cassian Veyraith. A man whispered to take pleasure in death. Dragged to King's bed, naked and trembling, Liora braced herself for death. However, the moment Cassian's eyes met hers, she realized nothing was as it seemed…

“Spread those thighs, little one.” His voice was a low growl as his hand closed around her hips. “Y-yes, Daddy,” she gasped, trembling as he dragged her down to his mouth. “Mmmhh… Daddy’s good girl,” he muttered darkly against her slick heat. “From this moment, your body, your screams, your soul—belong to me.” **************************************** He bought her with blood money. He keeps her with chains and silk. She swears she’ll never bend, but in his world of shadows and sin, defiance only feeds his hunger. In Naples, he’s “Il Diavolo”—the devil every man fears. To her, he’s the ruthless savior who dragged her from an auction block straight into hell. And hell has never felt so addictive. Claimed by the Don is a dark mafia romance laced with filthy dominance, dangerous obsession, and a love story sharp enough to cut.

"Matteo, please..." I whispered. "Beg louder," he commanded, his lips brushing my ear as his free hand squeezed my breast, pinching the nipple until I gasped. "Please, Matteo. I need you." He smirked, satisfied, before sinking to his knees. His mouth replaced his fingers, his tongue parting me, slow and devastating. My hands flew into his hair, pulling, guiding, but he held me still, forcing me to endure every languid lick, every tease. When he finally sucked my clit into his mouth, I screamed, my legs trembling around his shoulders. "Come for me, piccola," he growled against my slick heat. The vibrations of his voice shattered me, pleasure ripping through me so violently I nearly collapsed, but he held me firm, drawing out every last wave until I was shaking.