Watching Jjk

During a company retreat to Colmar, I found out my boyfriend was going to propose at sunset, surrounded by colleagues. Instead, in the golden light, he dropped to one knee with a ring in hand in front of someone else. “Lana, I’m ready to be the father of your child. Will you marry me?” Lana, the woman Mark had loved for ten years, his unforgettable first love. I stared at the two, watching them embrace. Then I quietly turned away, booked myself a trip three days out, and went home for an arranged date. A year later, I ran into him again when I returned to the country. Mark’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my wrist. “Rosie, you’re finally back. Don’t leave me again…”

I was his wife. His obligation. His biggest mistake. For three years, I stayed silent, watching Liam love another woman while I wasted away beside him. But when he let our baby die without lifting a finger, everything inside me shattered. I walked away—but not to disappear. I walked into a new life. One where I’d find strength, answers… and someone who’d remind me what it feels like to be seen. But the past isn’t done with me. And neither is Liam. Because what ties us together runs deeper than we ever knew. And the man I’m beginning to fall for? He might be the one thing that unravels it all. A heartbreak billionaire romance about betrayal, identity, and a love buried in the ashes of the past.

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

A letter in crimson ink. A name she hasn’t heard in years. A place that doesn’t exist on any map. Bestselling author Sloane Maren receives a single line in an unmarked envelope: “Come to Elandra Isle. One guest. One week. One truth.” No signature. No explanation. Just the haunting certainty that someone knows what she did. Drawn by a past she’s tried to forget, Sloane arrives at the remote island estate expecting closure. Instead, she finds Theo—the man who once shattered her trust—waiting with secrets of his own. Each night unravels something darker. Each touch uncovers a memory she buried deep. And someone on the island is watching her.. As old passions ignite and hidden agendas surface, Sloane must decide what’s real and what was always a lie. Because some truths are written in blood. And some invitations should never be accepted.

Rosalie Bianco's world falls apart in one night, fired from her job, drowning in bills, and watching her mother’s health slip through her fingers. She’s desperate, out of options. Until a cold, powerful stranger offers her a way out. Alessandro Moretti, Italy’s most ruthless billionaire, remembers the fire in Rosalie’s eyes when she defied him. Now, he wants to own that fire on his own terms. He’ll pay for her mother’s treatment, give her a job, and protect her but only if she agrees to be his. His possession, his secret. But what starts as a cruel game spirals into something far more dangerous. Rosalie may be the pawn, but she’s not afraid to rewrite the rules. In a world of lies, obsession, and power, love was never part of the deal.

When Ivy Moore’s estranged parents die in a suspicious crash, she’s placed in the custody of Victor Maddox, a cold billionaire tied to her through a secret clause in her family’s estate. He doesn’t ask. He commands. Within hours of arriving at his isolated mansion, Ivy is given one choice: sign a 90-day contract of submission or lose everything. No love. No limits. No escape. But Victor isn’t just strict. He’s obsessed. He’s been watching Ivy for years. Now that she’s his, he will never let her go. Every punishment draws her closer. Every rule breaks her open. Every night, she learns what it means to be claimed, used, and owned. She thought she was just a ward. But she’s his obsession. And he’ll destroy them both to keep her.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

Big fat Aurora Wright has always been ridiculed and body-shamed by the ones she calls family…not excluding her husband - Ethan Slade, the man she loves so much. She thought marriage was for better for worse and she was ever so willing to go down that lane with him until the very end even though he feels absolutely nothing for her. But, tables turn when the man she loves, calls her a pest and wants her gone. Nothing broke Aurora's heart more than the fact that he didn't bat an eye watching her groan in pain. Anger, pain and hate for the Slade family, Aurora swore to make them pay and beg at her feet. Aurora is reborn into a more sophisticated woman bent on having her revenge after getting married to New York's youngest politician, Orion's Valois.

🔞🔞🔞 My name doesn't matter. My filthy urges do. I came home from work. The bedroom door was half open. My husband was there, pounding into some woman on our bed, his cock slamming in and out, deep and rough. I should have screamed. Instead my pussy clenched hard. I stood frozen, watching every thrust. My hand slipped under my skirt on its own. Fingers circled my clit as he fucked her right in front of me. He glanced over. “You like watching my cock stretch her?” I rubbed faster. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. Then I came shaking, eyes locked on him pounding her. *** 69 Dripping Fantasies is sixty-nine raw taboo stories. Wives catching husbands cheating and getting soaked instead of angry. Step-family secrets whispered in quiet. Glory holes that fill fast. Honeymoon wife swaps sparked by one dumb dare. Older rich men taking total control. Professors crossing every forbidden line. Husband’s best friends sneaking in. Strangers who follow, then fuck hard. Group nights in dark clubs. Cucks cleaning up every last drop. *** I’m on my knees. One thick cock buried deep in my throat, making me gag. The woman behind me squeezes my tits until it hurts so good. Her tongue between my ass, teasing, no cock has filled my pussy or ass yet. But I’m trembling, dripping, seconds from squirting everywhere. Two massive black cocks wait their turn, and her presence makes it filthier… hotter. I never knew I craved this so badly. *** No soft romance. Just dirty yeses where no should be. Sixty-nine stories. Sixty-nine surrenders. Read if you’re brave. These pages might leave you wet, jealous, horny… or secretly think of your own filthy fantasies when nobody’s watching. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.