Velma Latex Suit

Velma spent ten years as Dylan's wife, enduring his mother's cruelty and constant reminders that she was barren—an orphan who didn't deserve him. When she finally became pregnant after a decade of trying, everything fell apart. Forced to sign divorce papers, heartbroken and pregnant, Velma disappeared. Five years later, she returned as the world's most famous artist. By her side: Theron, a patient and wealthy man who helped her rebuild her life, and the son Dylan never knew existed. She came back for an art exhibition, but fate forced her to work at Dylan's fashion company. The moment Dylan saw her, everything changed. She was no longer the quiet, broken woman he'd divorced. She was confident, powerful, radiant—and married to another man. Dylan groveled. He begged. He humbled himself in ways he never imagined, willing to do anything to reclaim the wife he'd lost for a second chance. But Velma was no longer the woman who lived in anyone's shadow. Will she forgive the man who broke her heart? Choose the man who rebuilt her? Or rewrite the rules and have them both? Click to find out... This is a why choose when she can have both book.

At first, I thought it was just a regular body check-up. But when I wake up on the cold examination chair, the feeling of the binds on my limbs snuffs out the last trace of my hope. I growl at him threateningly. Still, I can't stop him from sliding his hand along my inner thigh all the way up. That's when I feel the cool latex being inserted into my body. I can only sob softly from the invasion. But the feelings of excitement, embarrassment, and humiliation keep surging into me. Once the check-up is over, I vow to never see him again. But what I don't expect is to see him haunting my dreams like a phantom…

With a small thump, the seat beside the solitary guy became occupied. “Yo.” “Hi.” “Want a gum?” “No.” “Suit yourself.” “Hmm.”

Contents of this story includes explicit sex scenes, and if it doesn't suit you, avoid reading! Tales of iniquity draws you closer to the sex life of the characters in the book. Including- BL, GL, MM, BB and all manner of forbidden romance. Beware!

What can a mother do for the sake of her daughter? " Take it off, your suit!", Asher summoned Max when he accidentally splash water on her uniform. "What?---I---ahhh--", she stuttered. Max has no escape. How can she do it if she's not a guy? Read to find out more.

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.

Spending the last night of my vacation by partying and drinking into oblivion was the highlight of my master plan. Waking up, in my birthday suit and tangled up in the sheets with a sinfully handsome stranger was definitely not. Curious? Then I have to disclose about how I met him in the first place. Beware, you are all in for one hell of a delicious ride.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

Ava thought she had the perfect life until she found out her boyfriend of eight years was seeing another woman. One drunken night of heartbreak turned into a dangerous game of power, desire, and revenge when she stumbled into the hands of a complete stranger. They say revenge is best served cold, but no one warned her it could burn this hot. Especially when it comes wrapped in a suit, and looking at her with eyes that promise both salvation and sin.