Voice Acting Lines Novels & Stories

Jaxon Steele is the ruthless CEO of Steele Enterprises—commanding, arrogant, and always in control. Riley Lawson, his quiet and sweet assistant, has learned to keep his head down and avoid his boss's temper. But when an unexpected encounter outside the office ignites a fiery attraction between them, the lines between power and passion begin to blur. As Jaxon’s dominant nature clashes with Riley’s soft demeanor, they both find themselves struggling to resist a desire that could consume them. In a world where control is everything, who will submit to love, and who will command the heart?

WARNING: For Mature Readers Only Unapologetic, explicit erotica. No cuts, no mercy. Graphic language, raw desire, dominant/submissive dynamics, intoxicating risk, forbidden lines crossed, age-gap heat, infidelity thrills, group indulgence, public edge, outdoor surrender, intense power play, and relentless, dripping pleasure. These stories exist to set you on fire and keep you burning. If that’s not what you came for, walk away now. Once you start, there’s only one way out, you being completely consumed. Open, read and burn with desire. 18+ only.

I return home from my business trip that night. The pharmacy I always go to calls to say that my membership card was used that afternoon, but the payment failed, and the account needs to be topped up. I look over at my wife, Catherine Francis, who's focused on making dinner. I ask her what she bought. She smiles and pulls out a box of supplements. "I've been staying up late working these past few days. My heart's been acting up a little, so I bought some heart supplements." Seeing my expression go flat, she lets out a helpless sigh and takes a card out of her bag. "I know you're particular about money. Since I accidentally used your membership card, I'll pay you back ten times. Okay?" However, I don't take the card like I used to. I just look at her calmly and say, "Let's get a divorce."

My boyfriend's first love and I roll down the stairs at the same time. I'm unscathed, but she passes out. He's furious and orders people to break my limbs, drug me, and throw me into a kennel. "I'll make you pay a hundredfold for the pain Jean experienced!" I think about the hurricane warning I saw earlier and endure the pain while pleading with him. "Please don't do this, Jason! I'll die!" He sneers at my begging and holds Jean close while she continues acting like she's unconscious. He snaps, "It's too late to beg for mercy now!" It's pouring outside, and the wind whips everything around. Thunder cracks and lightning flashes, but I'm still thrown outside. Two days later, Jason instructs someone to get me. "Go get her. Jean wants to have her cooking!" What he doesn't know is that I'll never stand before him again. Not alive, anyway.

“You’re going to build me up all over again, just to break me once more.” A marriage contract is all that binds them in the present. But some things from the past seem to haunt and try to tear them apart. Will they still end up together in the future? Andrea Scout has been offered a chance to free herself from crippling debt. Owed to being a well-known actress, her life is plagued with drama and controversy. And when a billionaire CEO proposes to pay off all her loans in exchange of acting as his wife, there was no hesitation in saying “I do.” Although she believed that love and marriage were fantasies people only dreamed about, she may perhaps found the real deal in Sebastian Adams. But luck never seemed to agree with her as hurt and misfortune always follow her, like a looming shadow. So when a special person from his good old days shows up and she’s cast away by the partner she learned to love, Andrea might just have had enough.

365 ways to hell is a collection of unapologetically dark and twisted tales. Tales that are mostly fantasized about. Erotic stories where rules don't apply, boundaries are pushed and lines are blurred. Welcome to the world where passion and desire sleep together. From nuns who can't resist the temptation in form of a teenager, to father in law who can't resist his son in law. Each story is a canvas that tells a story of uncensored feelings and raw connections. They are wrong, they are wicked and they are loud. They were meant for imaginations only but indulge this fantasies. You've been aching for them.

After her husband Vince’s ex-girlfriend returned, Stephanie was discarded without a second thought. As if that weren’t bad enough, Vince and his mistress destroyed the career she cherished most. At the lowest point of her life, Stephanie received a proposition from Henry, Vince’s rival: become his contract wife, and he would help her get revenge. Now, armed with a powerful ally, Stephanie is back to settle the score. But as the lines between revenge and passion blur, she finds herself falling for the man who was supposed to be just an ally—falling in love with Henry.

(Dual-POV) Rae Poppy Howard Spencer is the figurehead of the Spencer family after the "untimely" death of her father, but the Spencer family is different than the Howard empire. The Spencers? Old money mafia. The Howards? Business entrepreneurs. Rae Spencer runs the Spencer family. Poppy Howard runs the Howard empire. It's a lot for her to juggle, but so is falling hard for her head of security. Talk about crossing lines with Leander Murphy, her Murphy, is supposed to keep her safe, not get in bed with the boss. But maybe, just maybe, some rules are meant to be broken.

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

Two different worlds, two separate lives are fused together in this surreal tale of the supernatural. A world unknown to her and a world he runs from. An unending war between their worlds leads them down the same path with their destinies aligned. What will happen when the fate of their worlds hang in the balance and they have to make a choice? *** She had no idea how long she had been sleeping for but she woke up to the sound of someone sniffing. She was drowsy so she paid not much attention to it but then it continued, then she heard the voice again, “Lavender, you use lavender for your hair. How have I never sniffed your hair before?", the sniffing continued. The sound reverberated through the caves, whilst she felt the vibrations on his chest where she lay, but she did not need that to know whose voice it belonged to. It was deep but not hoarse, somehow it was powerful and soothing at the same time, it was the voice of a god, one that had spoken to her all of these months, one she had replayed over again in her head till it was ingrained in her memory. “Dragomir…”, she whispered in a teary voice, she proceeded to stand up but he held on to a part of her hair and was sniffing it. When he noticed her staring at him, he stopped and stared back at her as if she had just caught him trying to steal from the cookie jar. “Was that creepy?”, he asked.