Un Lugar Para Soñar Novels & Stories

Some lines aren't meant to be crossed. We cross them anyway. A struggling artist signs a contract to become a billionaire's live-in muse, in exchange for her to surrender her body, and even her soul. A college student watches his best friend's father through the window. The father watches back. And puts on a show. A therapist knows every trigger point of his patient's body. Late-night sessions become something far less professional. A man confesses his darkest desires to a priest who's bound by vows to only listen. The priest's restraint shatters. A photographer's lens captures more than boudoir photos. Eventually, he puts down the camera. Two stepbrothers' best friends steal moments in a house full of people who can't know. The risk makes it hotter. A student loses a dare and brings a vibrator to her strictest professor's class. He hacks it. Control it and own her. Two rival lawyers hate each other in court. In hotel rooms, they work out their aggression the only way that satisfies. This isn't romance. This is an obsession collection not for the faint hearted. GET WET. GET WILD. GET LOST IN THE FORBIDDEN.

“I don’t know how,” I whispered. “Can you show me? Please, daddy.” He should have said no. Instead, he said, “Lie back and open those pretty legs. Let daddy take care of that for you.” When I shattered all over his fingers he looked at me like I was the most devastating thing he’d ever seen and said, “That’s my sweet girl.” Three days later he put me on a plane to London and didn’t look back. ----- She has spent three years across an ocean trying to unlearn her Stepfather; his voice, his hands, the way he said her name like it cost him something. She almost managed it. Then he called to say he was getting married again and he needed her home. Now she’s back in Boston, sleeping under his roof, watching him plan a future with someone else, and pretending she doesn’t still want him the way she did at nineteen. He is doing the same, pretending. Controlling. Building walls and calling it protection. But three years haven’t changed what’s between them. If anything, the distance made it worse. He sent her away once to save her from him. This time, she isn’t leaving. Some things are wrong in every way that matters, and still impossible to stop. WARNING: This book contains explicit erotic content and is meant for mature audiences. It explores desire, power, and complicated relationships without holding back. Please proceed only if you’re comfortable with that.

I spent six years loving Lucas Salvatore into a marriage that was slowly swallowing me whole. I rearranged my dreams, swallowed my pain, and smiled through every moment that should have broken me sooner. Then I found Renata’s pregnancy test in my guest bathroom and every lie I had been telling myself died in an instant. I did not scream. I did not beg. I signed the divorce papers Lucas never had the courage to hand me himself and left them beside his morning coffee. They thought I would fall apart. Lucas thought I would come back. Renata thought she had won. None of them knew that losing everything was the moment I finally found myself, and the woman I became was someone none of them were prepared for.

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

I was dragged online by one of my own employees. According to her post, I was a stingy boss who refused to give out holiday gift boxes for Memorial Day weekend. What the internet did not know was that my company already had a long-standing tradition. Every holiday, and even every employee birthday, each person received a $300 gift card without fail. But once the whole internet started tearing me apart, I decided to give everyone exactly what they claimed they wanted. I issued a company-wide notice. To respect everyone’s demand for a more “thoughtful” holiday gesture, this year’s Memorial Day gift cards would be canceled and replaced with holiday gift boxes for all employees. The moment the notice went out, the entire company exploded. Employees crowded outside my office, begging me to bring the gift cards back.

“If you don’t come back within thirty minutes, I’ll replace my groom, Jackson.” On the other end of the call, Jackson Langham only laughed. To him, Ava Celeste’s threat sounded ridiculous. After all, for the past seven years, Ava had always stayed. Always forgiven him. Always waited for him. Jackson was far too certain that she would never leave. But that day was different. Standing in the middle of a luxurious ballroom filled with conglomerate families, Manhattan media, and elite guests, Ava finally realized one bitter truth: she had never truly been Jackson’s priority. Not even on their wedding day. Even then, he still chose to leave with another woman. And for the first time after seven years of loving someone unconditionally, Ava stopped waiting. Just as everyone assumed the wedding would end as the biggest scandal in Langham family history, a man suddenly stepped forward and extended his hand toward Ava in front of the entire ballroom. Maverick Langham. Jackson’s uncle. The cold, rigid man who had always remained in the shadows of the Langham family. “I may not be able to give you love,” he said quietly, his deep voice steady amidst the chaos surrounding them, “but at least I can save your dignity today. So… will you marry me?” Without hesitation, Ava said yes. That impulsive decision changed everything. In a single night, Ava went from being Jackson’s future wife to becoming his aunt instead. Jackson was forced to watch the woman he had neglected for years slowly fall into another man’s arms. Jackson had every intention of winning Ava back. And he had no plans to let her go so easily. But could he really do it… now that Ava had finally discovered what true love actually meant?  

When my Alpha mate, Logan noticed I hadn't submitted a single expense request in three days, he reached out to me on his own for the first time ever. "Baby, I've already approved the next phase of your wolf's healing. See? As long as you learn to behave, there's nothing I won't give you." His tone was still so affectionate, as if he were truly a good Alpha, worried sick over his mate. But he didn't know that as his "Baby" flashed across my phone screen, I had already finished drafting the agreement to sever our mate bond. Before I left, the only thing I could take with me was the old T-shirt I had worn when he marked me. No one would ever believe that the beloved Luna of the Blackmoon Pack, in the three years since our bonding ceremony, couldn't even scrape together five decent dresses of her own. Every household expense I incurred had to be approved by the Luna's seal, the very symbol of my power. "Sienna, managing the books is too tiring. It will wear you out." "Just let Chloe handle the tedious work with the seal. All you have to do is be beautiful, be my perfect Luna." And so, the Luna's seal, which should have been mine, became something I had to beg for from Chloe, the Alpha's secretary who was supposedly "handling the tedious work for me." Three days ago, my wolf was on the verge of collapsing. I cried and begged him for the two hundred thousand needed for an emergency intervention. But Chloe deliberately withheld the seal, delaying approval by claiming improper procedure. Finally, my already fractured wolf went completely silent in the depths of my soul. And with that, I was done with this Alpha, too.

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

I had loved once—softly, foolishly—and the world had repaid me with betrayal, humiliation, and blood in the dirt. So I buried that girl. I returned home a weapon. A Blood Moon heir carved from ice and vengeance, bound by an arranged marriage to the most dangerous man on the continent—a man who had already ruined me in the dark and left me with nothing but a scar and a memory that refused to die. He didn’t recognize me. But I recognized him. And I remembered everything. The way he touched me. The way he claimed me. The way he discarded me. My mate. My mistake. My ruin. Now we stood on opposite sides of a throne built on lies, power, and war. He wanted his mate. I wanted destruction. And if he ever discovered the truth—that the obedient, untouchable princess he was meant to marry was the same “Omega” he had used and abandoned— then the bond between us wouldn’t save him. It would destroy us both.

To everyone else, I'm the wife of Stefano Pace, the man who runs this city's underworld. To others, I am living the kind of luxury every woman in town envies. But what no one knows is that in three days, I'm leaving my husband for good. It started when I took Stefano's car to wash and spotted a black stocking that wasn't mine wedged in the passenger seat cushions. It was balled up and still reeked of sickly sweet perfume. The sight of it was like a knife to the heart. I knew that perfume. It is Isla Torelli's. She's Stefano's underboss, the only woman besides me who's ever taken the passenger seat. My hand trembled as I gripped the stocking, but I kept my cool. I thought back to our wedding seven years ago, when Stefano stood in front of the whole family and vowed, "If I ever betray you, then betray me a hundredfold!" He probably did not think those words would come true.