Villainess Dress

Just then, he pulled her closer to him and placed his hands softly on her waist. Belle’s heart was racing faster than it had ever done before. She couldn’t believe what was happening. He was taller than her and she loves a man who was taller than her. Ronnie’s brain reeled from sensory overload. Belle’s honeysuckle scent,her red velvet lips, shoved him to the brink. It had been a long time. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, he whispered in her ear with a soft voice; “Can i kiss you?” Belle was almost trembling but not because she was afraid. It was because she had waited for this moment and it was finally happening. She stared right back into his eyes and nodded in consent. Ronnie smiled at her softly. She could tell he was pleased by her approval. He pulled her closer again. This time, so his body was brushing against hers. Her boobs were touching his broad and chiseled chest. He could see her black bra through the dress she wore which showed off her cleavage. It drove him wild seeing them. She felt him nudging at her lower thighs. He felt really big she thought. He breathed deeply as he ran his hands through her hair and face. He softly held her chin up closer to his face so his lips could touch her soft moisturized lips and then he kissed her. Her lips felt so soft he couldn’t stop kissing them. She wondered if she had finally found the perfect guy to prove to her friends she’s a real lover girl and not a nonchalant girl who hates or doesn’t really care about love.

Shantali Mae Cross, a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts, encounters an impossible phenomenon during her night shift—smoke from the heating vents coalesces into the form of a cobra near ancient Egyptian canopic jars, showing her visions of possible futures. She sees herself accepting a promotion, arguing with a dark-haired man in a hospital, wearing a wedding dress, and standing at a graveside in autumn. Shaken by the experience, Shantali becomes obsessed with understanding what she witnessed, diving into research about serpent smoke divination practices. Her investigation reveals that others throughout history have experienced similar visions at crucial crossroads in their lives, but those who became consumed with interpreting and controlling their prophetic glimpses inevitably destroyed the very relationships and opportunities the visions had shown them. As Shantali spirals deeper into her research, she begins shutting out her boyfriend David, a fellow security guard who loves her deeply. When David witnesses the cobra phenomenon himself, he helps ground her in reality rather than obsession. Through her studies, particularly the warnings left by Dr. Amelia Thorne—a researcher who died alone after chasing similar mysteries—Shantali realizes the cobra's true message: choose love over fear, presence over obsession. The visions weren't warnings of tragedy but glimpses of a life fully lived with all its ordinary struggles and profound connections. When David proposes, Shantali chooses their real relationship over her pursuit of supernatural answers. She completes her research by writing a fictional novel about her experience, transforming obsession into art while helping future cobra witnesses understand that some mysteries are meant to guide rather than be solved. The story explores themes of choice versus destiny, the danger of sacrificing present love for future certainty, and the wisdom of embracing life's uncertainties alongside those who love us.

18+ Mature content. - - - - Skye Hale swore she'd never let another person she loved die without answers. Her mother was silenced by a cartel hit, the case buried by the very agency she served. Skye became the hunter instead. Undercover. Relentless. Willing to burn everything to uncover the truth. Then Zane, the only man who ever made her feel safe, forced her to choose: him or the ghosts. She chose him. They planned a wedding. She almost believed she could leave the darkness behind. Three days before the vows, her best friend Red was gunned down in the same strip club where she danced to survive. The same cartel. The same cover-up. The morning she was supposed to walk down the aisle, an anonymous file landed in her phone. Proof that Red died trying to help her, and the killer's trail led straight back to the man who once ran her mother's missions. Skye walked out in her wedding dress, left Zane at the altar, and vanished into the night. Now deep in Australia’s dangerous underworld, she works as a stripper to infiltrate the cartel. The sexual addiction she buried years ago has roared back stronger than ever. Every slow, sensual grind on stage, every pair of hungry hands sliding over her bare skin, feeds the raw, aching hunger she can no longer control. As Skye seduces dangerous men for information, the stakes rise dangerously high. A former colleague wants her dead. The protector sent to bring her home hides a shocking betrayal. And the powerful man who ordered her mother’s murder is closer than she imagined, close enough to touch, close enough to taste. One wrong move, and she'll lose her life. One right touch, and she'll lose herself. Skye Hale came for justice. She might leave in ashes.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

"Saffron, I asked you a question. What happened to your dress?" Atlas asked again like he cared. Why was he calling her name like they were pals? How did he even know her name? This was the first time in seven years that they talked. Atlas isn't one to care about mere workers in the mansion, let alone commit their names to memory. So why her? Ignoring Atlas was not an option, so she parted her lips. "I–" Saffron was about to lie her way through when she caught sight of Caspian walking over. "Talk to me! Did Caspian do this to you?!" Atlas frowned and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look his way. "How did–" so this was it? Atlas orchestrated last night's incident? He set her up! Now Caspian would think she was involved with Atlas! There's no way for her to prove her innocence anymore... "Ahh!" Saffron cried out loud and moved back with her rear hitting the wall. She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the floor, bawling her eyes out. "I'm just an insignificant Chef who is only here to work, please I beg you, let me live… waaah… I want to live…!" She continued crying as she lamented sorrowfully like she was already having her last minute of life. Caspian walked past without acknowledging any of them with a mere glance. After he ambled out of the corridor, Atlas moved away and glared condescendingly at Saffron, "Don't think too highly of yourself. You've served your purpose. You were a mere pawn." ... Saffron, a Chef who wanted nothing but a simple life, ended up becoming a pawn in a life and death's game for three brothers. However, time will tell if she's a pawn, or the Queen on the chess board.

"Nina is that you. You look so beautiful" a guy said. "Have some drink" "No, she is leaving," said the harsh voice, and next thing I know champagne was all over my dress. I gasped as it stained it. Before I could react he grabbed me and dragged me to the pool area. I yanked my hand. "What the hell. You ruined my clothes" I half yelled. "What the fuck you are doing in my party looking like a slut" he yelled angrily while pinning me to the wall. Listening to his words my blood boiled. "Let me guess you came here to ruin my mood by showing your ugly face," he said letting me know his hate. "Stop giving so much importance to yourself. I'm here because of your mom. My face must be ugly but ugly souls like you are not even worth wasting my life's a single second" I said angrily pushed him but he didn't move. "I can hide my ugly soul behind this face but ugly ducklings like you carry their ugliness which can't even be hidden by beautiful dress because they stain everything around them with their ugliness," his words were hurting my soul but I won't cry. With all my power I pushed him making him fall in the pool. "Happy Birthday," I said with a smirk on my face but he didn't let me go. Things he did to me after it still send a shiver to my spine. One thing was clear on that day that I don't want to see his face again in this life. But I don't know what the hell I'm doing standing in front of him in Church wearing a wedding gown and looking at his angry victory smirk on his face with my glassy eyes.

He was hired to guard the boss’s daughter. I’m that daughter… and I’m dying to fuck my own bodyguard. His thick cock slammed into me again and again, stretching me so deep I saw stars. I was bent over the marble counter in the safe house, dress shoved up to my waist, his huge hand fisted in my hair as he fucked me like he hated how much he needed me. “What do you think your dad would do if he catches us here?” Arnold growled against my ear, voice dark and filthy, never slowing his punishing rhythm. I chuckled through a broken moan, pushing back to take him harder. “I’m his one and only princess. He won’t do a thing to me. As for you… he’ll hang you alive and watch until the last drop of your blood dries.” I smirked, trying to mask how dizzy he made me. Then he whispered fearlessly, “I know the rules, but I don’t care.” ______ My name is Dorla De Luca. I’m twenty one. I was almost kidnapped, and my mafia father decided the only way to protect his only daughter was to assign his most trusted and most dangerous bodyguard to watch me 24/7. He never expected that bodyguard to be the man I’ve been secretly craving since I was eighteen. Arnold Black Russo is thirty two, cold, lethal, and bound by a blood oath to my father. Loving him is suicide. My father would put a bullet between his eyes without blinking. Yet every stolen touch, every forbidden night, only makes the fire burn hotter. He was hired to guard me. Instead, he’s ruining me. And I never want him to stop.

DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.

Kai dropped to his knees, slipping off my heel and resting my foot on his thigh before pressing a slow kiss there. His puppy eyes locked onto mine. He rose, guiding me back onto the bed. I loosened his belt, crossing a line I knew I shouldn’t but I wanted him too much to stop. His hand slid under my dress, pulling at my panties…. I caught his wrist. Our eyes met. “You want me that badly?” I whispered. “Yes,” he breathed, soft but starving. My smile was cold and calculated, my voice low.  “I'll let you have me, if you Will kill your elder brother for me?” *********** Alessa Smith gave him everything, love, loyalty, her fortune. For three years, she stood by her husband Adrian's side, only to watch him throw it all away for the woman he once loved. He felt like she loved him more than her life. Now what he doesn’t know is that the empire he stands on was hers to begin with. She approached his useless stepbrother Kai because of a big lie she told. Kai is a ruthless biker with a big secret. Alessa gives him a contract promising him a better life, as long as he becomes her boytoy and makes her pregnant within a year. She promised to give him everything she gave her husband. But she had no idea that he was her stalker and always imagined himself in bed with her. She was a woman that with no emotions. But she found herself craving her husband's brother. A game she thought she was the controller,  she had no idea when she fell madly in love and couldn't control her craving for her Kai. But she will make Adrain sit and watch his ruins!!!!.