Unicorn Bathing Suit

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

Desperation forces Elena to work as a waitress in a notorious underground nightclub to cover her son's mounting medical bills. Her mundane yet precarious life takes a dangerous turn one night when several drunk patrons corner her. Before things spiral out of control, a shadowy figure intervenes — her ex-boyfriend, now a powerful and feared mafia boss, Damien Moretti. Years ago, their love was a whirlwind of passion and chaos, abruptly severed by betrayal and secrets. Now standing before her in a tailored suit with an air of cold authority, Damien isn’t the man she once knew — he’s darker, more ruthless, and unapologetically possessive. Now, he’s no longer a charming rebel but a man who bends the world to his will. His terms are chilling yet inescapable: “You belong to me. Always have. Always will. And I’ll make you remember that.” Damien offers a deal Elena can’t easily refuse — become his mistress, and he’ll wipe out all her debts. Despite her defiant spirit, Elena is torn between pride and a mother’s fierce love. Elena faces an impossible choice while hiding a secret: Draco, her five-year-old son, is Damien's child. Damien's obsession with control intensifies as he becomes increasingly possessive of Elena, keeping her under constant watch. While others label his love psychopathic, She struggles to deny the magnetic pull he still has over her. His dangerous lifestyle threatens to drag her back into a world of blood and shadows, but he’s the only one who can save her son. As their twisted relationship reignites, Damien's enemies close in, putting both Elena and Draco at risk. When Damien uncovers the truth about Draco, his possessiveness reaches a fever pitch — no one will touch what belongs to him, not even fate!

*******He can spank me every single day, I might get addicted to this.  Suddenly he's off from me, and I instantly miss his dominant warmth, so I take a chance to look behind me and I must have died and gone to heaven, because Alessandro Moretti is stripping himself from his pristine suit, unveiling the fine body he hides underneath it.  First his jacket goes, then he angrily takes off his tie, his eyes never leaving mine and I'm completely immobilized as he reveals that chest to me that I would love to map with my finger.  I gulp when his hands go to his belt buckle and he drops his pants, dressed now in only black boxer briefs. He palms his very hard, very big erection through the material brazenly and I'm scared I might really get a heart attack from the way my heart is beating furiously.*****  When the Prince Of The Underground first lay eyes on the beauty that is Farrah Simpson, he is caught hook, line and sinker. At first he thinks he can get her out of his system, but the beauty has more depth than he could've ever imagined. Against her will and better judgement, she too falls in love with the dangerous criminal, changing her life forever. As much as Alessandro loves her, he has to let her go. He has too many enemies who would salivate at capturing her, and he simply cannot take the risk with the woman who owns his whole heart. He tries to stay away from her, but Farrah wouldn't let him. He made her fall in love with him and she cannot see her life without him. Will Alessandro be able to stay away from her? Or will Farrah convince him she's worth fighting for?

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

WARNING! Mature Contents!!! A one-night stand of hot unprotected sex filled with passion and desire and Tiffany West and Lorenzo Russo's lives intertwine forever. Tiffany has no idea her stepfather owes the Cosa Nostra money and she's been used to repay the debt with an arranged marriage to Demirci, a member of the Turkish Mafia. And then there's him. The devil with a handsome face and nice tailored suit and a heart as black as tar. Lorenzo Russo. He's the man she lusts after and loathes more than anything— his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance, and too too-perceptive eyes. He's ability to see through her disguise to the broken girl she is has her infuriated. He's the embodiment of darkness and probably one of the most dangerous men in the world but she has no idea she's his frustration and fascination. Nowhere in Lorenzo Russo plan had he ever prepared for Tiffany. She's his opposite in every way… and the greatest temptation he's ever known. The breathing definition of everything he didn't want. She laughs too loud. She talks so much. She's clearly not his type, but still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her wherever she goes and thinking about their night of wild sex. After a wild party where Tiffany clearly had too many drinks. She wakes up next to Lorenzo wearing his ring. His wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to Lorenzo Russo, a Mafia don. Now she's forced to live with him. Sleep next to him. Be a wife to him. It didn't take long before shadows of the past comes knocking in the face of Salvatore Russo, the devil of a father that orders the murder of his sons. Now he's out to destroy the one thing Lorenzo Russo seems to obsess about, Tiffany West.

“Hmm... Rhea, is it? Nice name.” I froze as I heard the husky voice, and I felt tremors running down my spine. I slowly raised my head and met the bluest eyes I had ever seen... Bluer than the ocean… So blue that they seemed to twinkle like twin pools of sapphire. I ran my eyes over his entire figure. He was wearing a suit but didn’t look like the typical businessmen. For one thing, he was not clean shaved, and had a five o’clock shadow on his face. And I couldn’t figure out if his hair was stylishly messed up, or he just didn’t bother to do anything with it at all. Either way, it looked good. Too good! And those lips.. I was brought out of my fantasies when those oh so kissable lips turned up into a smirk. Uh huh! I bit my lips, trying to bring myself out of the lust-filled haze I was falling into. There was just something about him, something so magnetic that I was losing all control of my thoughts. There seemed to be an aura of power and danger surrounding him. If I didn’t know any better, the one word I would say was ‘otherworldly’... but I knew better and just stopped myself in time from uttering the words ‘What are you?’. ------------------- From the day she woke up without memories two years ago, Rhea had always thought she was a normal human girl. What happens when she realises she was never a human, but a goddess? Suddenly her once boring life becomes all too exciting when she finds herself in the middle of Gods, demons, and a mysterious wolf protector. Add a handsome stranger whom she can’t seem to get her mind away from, Rhea is in for a lot more than she bargained for...

“Shut your fucking damn mouth!” Zach’s voice echoed through the room, raw and sharp with anger. Madison didn’t flinch. If anything, the fire in her eyes only burned brighter. She had been pushing his buttons for days—emotionally, mentally. And it tore at him, deep down where no one could see. “I thought you liked it open,” she said with a wicked smirk, sauntering toward his desk like she owned the place. His body betrayed him, twitching at her dirty words. Of course she knew exactly what to say. She always did. “I’m not quitting!” she snapped. “I am a doctor. A damn good one. Who do you think you are to tell me to give that up?!” Zach rose from behind his desk, calm yet dangerous. His hands moved to open his suit jacket, revealing that familiar tension in his shoulders—the one that made her heart race. “Wha—what are you doing?” He closed the space between them in two strides. “I’m your Daddy,” he growled, low and close, “like you cried out last night. And you… you’re mine.” And then his lips crashed into hers before she could breathe another word. ~~ Darly Madison—respected surgeon, focused, disciplined, and just a little stubborn—had her world under control. That is, until her best friend dragged her to a luxurious night party at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. One night. One mistake. One man who turned her world upside down. Zach Westley. Mafia boss. Dominant. Dangerous. Possessive to the core. She thought it was just a one-night stand. He had other plans. Now her life as a surgeon collides with a dark underworld she never saw coming. And whether she likes it or not… she’s been claimed by the Mafia.

Compilation d'histoires érotiques et intense : Par une nuit moite de juillet, Élisa s’égare dans un bar aux lumières tamisées. Au fond de la salle, un homme l’observe, sûr de lui, presque insolent. Quelques mots échangés, un regard plus appuyé que les autres, puis une main glissée au creux de ses reins. Elle le suit, sans poser de question.Entre ses mains, sous ses mots, elle s’ouvre à des plaisirs qu’elle n’osait pas nommer, se laisse nouer, guider, retourner, jusqu’à ne plus savoir où finit la peur et où commence la jouissance. Et quand une autre présence les rejoint, silencieuse, précise, tout bascule plus profond, plus brut, plus vrai. Lorsqu’Éric ramène chez lui une jeune femme au regard troublant, il affirme à sa femme, Clara, qu’il s’agit de sa cousine éloignée venue s’installer temporairement chez eux. Clara, méfiante, accepte difficilement cette présence envahissante dans leur foyer. Mais très vite, les regards échangés, les absences inexpliquées et les tensions silencieuses sèment le doute. Car cette “cousine” n’en est pas une… c’est la maîtresse d’Éric. Entre mensonges, manipulations et passion interdite, le foyer de Clara devient le théâtre d’une trahison orchestrée sous son propre toit. Jusqu’où ira Éric pour protéger son secret ? Et que se passera-t-il quand Clara découvrira la vérité ?

"Oh my goodness! This is exactly what I've been saying!" Mikan said, annoyed. "Why do you still refuse to break up with that Jiro? What does he have?" "M, it's normal for lovers to have disagreements," I replied calmly. "K, he's always the one causing issues. Aren't you tired of it?" Selena asked me. I shook my head. "I understand him, girls. Sometimes I'm moody too. Maybe his temper just flared up at the wrong time." I've been defending Jiro to them since we started dating in my second year of high school, and now we're in our fourth year of college. We had another argument recently, and I've been apologizing to him since the other day, even though I didn't know what I did wrong. But he hasn't been answering any of my texts or calls. So tonight, even though I didn't want to go with them to the Spade Club, I had no choice because they dragged me along. I just hope Jiro doesn't find out about this because he doesn't like it when I go clubbing without him. It might make him even angrier. "I think there's nothing we can do about Kylie. She's head over heels for Jiro," Ariana said. Ariana isn't this quiet usually when she's drunk. They all laughed while I forced a smile. Go ahead, laugh at me, but when you fall in love, I'll be rolling on the floor laughing. "Alright, cheers to Kylie's love madness," Mikan raised her shot glass, and A and S followed suit, while I watched them. I just sighed. "Hey! K, don't be a killjoy. Come on, raise your shot glass!" Selena shouted at me because the music was loud in the Spade Club. It was already ten in the evening.