Unbreakable Bond Perfume

“Stay still, Elena.” Alessio’s voice was a dark command against her ear. His hands pinned her wrists above her head as Gabriel’s lips trailed down her throat. “You’re ours now. No running. No escape.” Two ruthless mafia kings. One woman caught between them. Elena Rossi never planned to belong to the underworld, but when she witnesses a murder, she becomes their obsession. Alessio De Luca—cold, calculating, and possessive. Gabriel Moretti—reckless, dominant, and just as deadly. Instead of silencing her, they claim her, trapping her in a world of sin, power, and raw, unrelenting passion. But the deeper she falls, the more dangerous their secrets become. And when enemies close in, Elena must decide—can she survive being theirs, or will their love ruin her forever?

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

"I shook the thought from my mind and continued to plow my wife. My orgasm caught me by surprise, and I erupted, spurting my load into her welcoming p*ssy. Anna gently whined as I came inside of her. I could quite often bring her to an orgasm during s*x, but unfortunately, I didn't have it in me on this night. After our shower we laid in bed together prepping for slumber. The memory from the afternoon popped into my mind again and in a restless moment I blurted, "Did you notice Bob checking you out today?" Anna sighed, "You always think people are checking me out." ********************* This book contains thigh tingling erotic and steamy stories you have ever read in one book. It's a compilation of mouth watering and intense spicy stories for your pleasure. If you are not into adult and mature romance, then please don't open this book. Here you will get to read amazing short stories and new series every day, week and month. These stories will surely make your heartthrob and curl your toes in pleasure and excitement. Let's dive in into these amazing adventures.... Please like comment and share.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

My wife, Lilian Barton, loves me more than life itself. She has spent the past eight years working hard with me just so she can get pregnant with my child. Our son, Wesley Carson, needs immediate medical attention because of an asthma attack. On my way to the hospital, I accidentally crash into the wedding procession of a mafia leader. Wesley, who's barely a month old, is hurled to the ground, causing him to bleed everywhere. But that's when I see Lilian, who has an arm wrapped around the groom in the car. She tells a subordinate, "What bad luck! Not only is my wedding being interrupted, but there's also blood being spilled on my wedding day! Just kill that little bastard already!" Lilian outright ignores Wesley's cries of pain. Before she leaves, I hear her murmur, "Cover his mouth. That baby's cries are so annoying."

Racheal Louis thrown out by her family after her parents death, struggled to provide for herself ,before getting hired by Austin Daniels, the CEO of Daniat Airways ,the rival of the Louis family to pretend to be the lost grand daughter of the Daniel's family for 2 months. Love and tension build up. Together they look for ways to expose her family.

My mother gave birth to a pair of twins. I, the first twin, lived with my grandmother in the countryside since I was little. My twin brother, Felix Carter, lived with our parents during the same period. After I got accepted to a high school in the city, I was finally allowed to live with my parents. I thought I could finally have a taste of the familial love I'd been yearning for. Little did I know that this was the start of my nightmares. My parents and Felix ostracized me all the time, as though I were an outsider. Heck, my status at home wasn't even comparable to that of Felix's pet dog! One day, Felix stuffed a piece of kiwi into my mouth against my will, claiming that he wanted to help me get rid of my allergy toward kiwis. I pleaded with my parents for help with great difficulty, and yet all I received were cold glances from them. "Don't be a wuss! Are we expected to quit eating kiwis because of you?" "You're allergic to kiwis? Ridiculous! You'll get used to them after eating them a few more times!" But what my family didn't know was that severe allergies are actually fatal to the patient.