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My fiance's precious childhood crush, Amber Sweeney, was in a political union with the infamous Julian Grant, heir to the Grant family empire and a notorious playboy. Unable to stand the thought of Amber being "sacrificed", Ryan Carter barged into her wedding to stop it. They registered their marriage that day, making headlines across the city. The whole of D.C.'s elite waited to watch me and the Grant family become the city's biggest joke. What they didn't expect was that on the very next day, Julian would roll up to my company in his high-key sports car, leaning against the hood like he had all the time in the world. "Your fiance stole my bride. You'll be repaying that debt by marrying me. Fair trade, right?" I stared at his blazing red hair and wild grin, and smiled back coolly. "Sounds fair to me."

When I was two months pregnant, the Alpha, Lucas, asked me to give blood to his childhood friend. She pretended to have been injected with wolfsbane by a rogue werewolf and required the Luna's blood to recover. “Jessica, your physical constitution is good; hurry and give Lilith a blood transfusion!” “A real Luna wouldn’t just stand by and watch her die!” Lucas and his friends pushed me into the operating room. “It’s just a blood transfusion; it won’t harm the fetus. Even if we lose it, we can have another, but Lilith must survive.” I gave up struggling, watching my blood being drawn and transferred into Lilith's body. After waking up, I dragged myself home, only to be pushed to the ground by Lucas. I ended up with a miscarriage. That was the moment I decided to give up on this relationship.

I once thought Jareth was the love of my life. He said "Mom's in the hospital," but then turned around and kissed Lily in the VIP seats at the concert; when his bipolar disorder flared up, he was violent with me, but then told Lily, "You’re such a good girl"; he had videos with Lily saved on his phone, and in the chat records, he called me "the cold, emotionless finance robot." Five years of love, ruined in his lies and betrayals. He thought I would cry and scream, but all I did was watch him finish his final act. When he knelt on the ground and said, "I was wrong," what I handed him was the merger agreement: "Sign it. This is the first debt you owe me." Those broken hearts will eventually turn into sharp blades that will pierce him. And I will rise from the ruins, living more beautifully than anyone else.

Don Fiorenzo Ricci saved me and brought me home, raising me for seven years. During the day, he was refined and restrained, treating me the way a true father would. At night, he was endlessly inventive, making me his and his alone. I drowned myself in this twisted love, naively believing I was the only one for Fiorenzo. Then he turned around and married another woman, made her the Madre of the mafia family, and forced me to watch them together. I was done being a piece in their twisted games. The first time I ran, he nearly killed the maid who helped me. The second time I ran, he shot the gardener dead on the spot. The third time, and the last, I jumped into the ocean right in front of him. I did it all for freedom, even if it was only the freedom of my soul after death.

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

They said it was just a phase. A crush. A mistake she’d forget by morning. But obsessions don’t fade. They grow. In Filthy Obsessions, lust doesn’t whisper, it grabs hair, rips buttons, and leaves bruises in its name. These stories are not sweet. They’re soaked in sin. A sex therapist who doesn’t use words to fix broken marriages. A judge who sentences two sisters to submission, then joins them. A father’s best friend who doesn’t just watch,he waits, dark and patient, until she begs for his cock. An art professor who sketches her body in secret... then ruins her innocence on the altar. These men aren’t heroes. They’re cravings in human form. And the women who fall for them? They never recover. If you’ve ever whispered “Daddy, begged for it, screamed through it, or touched yourself thinking, “What if…” Filthy Obsessions was written for you.

You know those movies we watch as teens, how the handsome billionaire CEO bachelor falls in love with the average looking Cinderella, who is struggling to make ends meet. How the universe brings them together despite the circumstances of their different worlds. Don't you always wondered how it happens? Or if it actually works in real life? Two people falling in love despite been world's apart. When a child you donated blood to as an infant, identifies you as his mother fours year later. What would you do? Well, that's the beginning of my rollercoaster journey on how I met my very own prince charming, oh I'm sorry he's not that sweet prince charming you're imagining but he is a hot, steaming billionaire. Follow me on my journey on finding my handsome billionaire CEO.

!!Mature Content 18+ Erotic short stories!!! “Let’s play truth and dare shall we?” She challenged. Alan didn’t need to ponder about it, since his life was going to end anyway. It’s not such a bad idea to play games with his neighbor-enemy- a sexy b***h at that- With a decisive gaze, he met her eyes. “I take the dare.” He uttered and Gia had a mischievous smirk as she rubbed her palms slowly, Explore a realm of steamy, dripping hot one-night sex between next-door neighbors who deemed themselves as enemies. On the sideline, they nurture the dirtiest, sexiest, and naughtiest fantasies about pleasuring their crushes. The lustful tension becomes palpable as these hotties ogle at their next-door neighbors through the window until they surrender to their repressed, dark, unapologetic, and tempting desires. Watch as the boundaries between sexual attraction and hate blur in exciting ways.

During a train ride, I happen to notice an intimidating-looking man staring at his phone while seated next to me. Surprisingly enough, an R-rated scene is playing out on his screen. Out of the kindness of my heart, I remind the man not to watch such things in a public setting. Without raising his head, he replies coldly, "This is the security footage of my home." Feeling very awkward, I quickly apologize to him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know that. I'm really sorry." Just as I'm about to say something else, the male protagonist of the footage suddenly raises his head. At that moment, I feel my blood going cold in my veins. After all, he's Reynolds Mitchell, the fiance with whom I'm supposed to partake in a mating ceremony next month.

After I proposed to Kathy Johnson, my girlfriend of seven years, we went to City Hall to get our marriage license. Instead, she had her bodyguards throw me onto the street. Then, she walked through the doors, hand in hand with her childhood friend, Nate. She didn’t even blink when he saw me sitting there on the ground, shaking with disbelief. "Nate's son needs a legal guardian to secure his inheritance from the Johnson Group. The fastest way is for me to marry Nate and adopt the boy." "As soon as the paperwork is finalized, we'll get a divorce. You'll still be the one I really marry." Everyone assumed that I, the man who had been devoted to her for so long, would foolishly wait. After all, I had already waited for seven long years. But that night, I accepted the arranged business marriage my family had prepared for me and took a flight to Center City on the East Coast. I vanished from Kathy's world completely, and no one saw it coming. Five years later, I returned to Westlake City to visit my family. My wife, Rhea Weyland, was the sole heir to the Weyland family, a powerhouse that practically controlled the entire West Coast economy. She was tied up in a sudden international merger meeting. She had specially arranged for someone to pick me up from the airport. But I never dreamed that the "someone" she sent would be Kathy. The moment she saw me, her gaze immediately fell on the glittering watch on my wrist. "I can't believe that after all these years, you've stooped so low you're wearing a cheap knockoff." "Are you done with your little pity party? It's time to come crawling back. Nate's son is starting at an elite private school, and you're just in time to be his full-time driver and bodyguard." I gently stroked the watch on my wrist. What she didn't know was that this was one of the more modest gifts Rhea had given me.