Whisper Yo Kai Watch

Love is unpredictable, and often comes when we least expect it. Love can be felt for any number of reasons, and it’s those unexpected qualities that make someone stand out from the crowd. But what if that someone can’t be your mate, and loving her is against the rule? Would you still go for her and follow the whisper of your heart, or forget her and embrace your responsibility?

Trigger/ Content warning This book contains high sexual content for adults (18+) only. Proceed if you need your toes curled up in pleasure. **** “You know, I wanted you to watch me fuck my hoes… but there’s been a change of plan, Jax. I’ll watch.” “Watch what?” “You.” **** Jaxen DeLuca has just come face-to-face with the devil incarnate—a man deadlier than poison, feared like a curse and obeyed like a god. Everyone bends. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Everyone… except Jax. But this is what she learns… Monsters like Charles don’t fall in love. They claim, They ruin, and they destroy anything that dares not kneel.

Jarrel Grayson is a successful beach resort owner and teen heartthrob single dad to his four-year-old son, Jarshel. He can give his son everything—money, comfort, and luxury. But with all that he can give, he knows something is missing. Jarshel requires a mother. Resolute to finish his son's life, Jarrel starts looking for the ideal woman to take on the role. Unbeknownst to him, however, Jarshel had already picked someone—his teacher, Kai Mendoza. A woman from Jarrel's past. A past he had believed he had long buried.

Llevábamos seis años de casados, pero en los últimos tres meses, mi esposo ni siquiera me había tocado. Decía que el trabajo lo tenía agotado, y yo, enamorada desde hace años, le creí sin dudar. Hasta que en el día de mi cumpleaños, escuché a sus amigos hablar en alemán a sus espaldas. —¿Ya terminaste con la otra? Antes ibas todos los días… no sé cómo aguantabas. —¿Y tu esposa? ¿No te dice nada? Mi esposo soltó el humo de su cigarro con indiferencia: —Hace meses que ni la toco. Claudia es buena en la cama y aún no me aburre… Lástima que salió embarazada. A mi esposa no le gustan los niños, así que le di dinero a Claudia para que se fuera al extranjero y lo tuviera allá. Apreté los puños con fuerza. Las lágrimas comenzaron a caer sin permiso. Él se acercó preocupado y preguntó qué me pasaba. Yo negué con la cabeza, sonriendo. —Este pastel que hiciste con tus propias manos… me emocionó mucho. Está delicioso. El pastel sabía dulce. Pero yo, que sí entendía alemán, solo sentía amargura en el alma.

Durante cuatro años fui su secretaria y durante cuatro años calenté su cama. Lo sabía todo, desde los negocios de su familia hasta los secretos que me susurraba por las noches. Pero para él, yo no era más que un juguete al que podía recurrir cuando quisiera. En cuanto su primer amor, Sofía Costa, regresó al país, él me humilló sin pensarlo dos veces. La besó en una iglesia de Sicilia, me abandonó en una carretera, empapada por la lluvia con un corte de veinticinco centímetros en la pantorrilla, y luego me despidió con una frase fría y mordaz. Dijo que yo era alguien sin importancia, alguien a quien simplemente podía ignorar. Ella agitó el tulipán de peluche que él le había obsequiado delante de mí. —Yo soy la única a la que ama. Tú solo eras una sustituta. Mientras reconstruía mi vida en Northport y por fin encontraba algo de paz, este despiadado Don de la mafia se arrodilló frente a mi puerta, con los ojos rojos de emoción. —Elena, vuelve conmigo. Pateé su mano lejos con una sonrisa. —Tu supuesta devoción me repugna.

When last did you cum? Because this collection of sins will have you on your bed—lights dimmed low, music turned up, and fingers buried deep in your soaking wet pussy—screaming yourself hoarse as you cum over and over like a good little girl. This isn’t a book. It’s a one-way descent into every dark, forbidden craving you swore you’d never entertain. Stepbrothers who watch you bend over in short skirts. Stepdaddies who linger at your bedroom door. Priests who break every vow just to taste what they shouldn’t. And possessive, brutal men who don’t believe in sharing unless it’s you, stretched wide and ruined between them. Where desire meets defiance and surrender. Forbidden love stories with dominant men that have you on your knees, gasping, throat stuffed, body hot and begging for more. To be used, to be abused, conquered. These men don’t ask. They take. They drag you into their world of sin and make you like it. You'll cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache. Beg for their hands, their mouths, their cocks—anywhere, everywhere. They’ll whisper filth into your ear while your legs tremble. Force you to admit how wet you are, how badly you want it. And you’ll obey, because good girls don’t keep secrets. They don’t care if they’re your stepfather. Your priest. Your brother-in-laws. Your best friend’s brother. Or all of them at once. They’ll spit on your morals. Corrupt your innocence. Fuck you until your name’s forgotten and only theirs remains. So light the candles. Get the toys. Say your prayers, if you dare. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you—It owns you. And you’ll love every wicked, filthy, degrading second of it. FB Page: Ireti.

Maya, stripteaseuse le soir et aventurière imprudente le jour, trouve dans une poubelle un homme tailladé, encore chaud du métal qui l'a transpercé. Au lieu de fuir, elle le traîne dans l'antre de son van et le recoud elle-même, ses doigts agiles habitués aux lacets et aux blessures. L'inconnu, qui se nomme Kai, se réveille avec dans les yeux la froideur d'un tueur et l'étincelle d'une fascination violente pour cette femme qui a pansé ses plaies en l'insultant. Il appartient à un monde où l'on règle ses dettes dans le sang. Elle, avec son humour de brûlée et son mépris du danger, se jette tête baissée dans son sillage sombre. Leur attraction est une lame à double tranchant : coupante, addictive, mortelle. Kai veut la sauver en la chassant ; Maya veut le comprendre en se jetant dans la gueule du loup. Entre trahisons et pulsions, ils découvrent que les cicatrices les plus profondes ne sont pas celles qui saignent, mais celles qui lient deux âmes brisées, condamnées à s'entre-déchirer pour exister.

My eighteenth birthday wasn’t just a milestone; it was supposed to be my rescue. For twelve years, I’ve been the Crescent Pack’s shadow, an orphan with no siblings to lean on and no parents to shield me. I had survived on the hope that the Moon Goddess would finally give me a place to belong, a soul specifically chosen to keep me company. I waited for a spark. Instead, I got a wildfire that consumed me. Being mated to Kai was the ultimate prize for every Beta in the territory, a dream they whispered about in the training rings. But the Goddess has a twisted sense of humor. She granted a wish neither of us wanted, and before the bond could even settle, Kai tore it apart. The rejection didn't just break my heart, it shattered something deep in my marrow. The physical agony was a dull throb compared to the humiliation, the sneers of the pack, the laughter of the elite, and the sight of my destined partner looking at me with nothing but disgust. In their eyes, I was a broken girl who should have chosen death over the shame of being rejected. They think the story ends with me crawling into a corner to wither away. What they don't know is that the blood of the weak can hold the oldest secrets. Deep beneath the surface, runes more ancient than the Alpha’s lineage are beginning to glow, pulsing with a power strong enough to destroy the chaos they’ve sown. My power isn't just waking up, it’s starving. And this time, it’s demanding far more than a simple apology. It’s demanding a reckoning.

"His lips whisper secrets of forbidden love and I was drowning in his touch, can I escape from his playful haptic?" - Ella Victoria Everette Alejos A love story that encloses a forbidden affair between a beautiful married woman in her mid-30s and a handsome senior high student who found themselves drowning in each other's playful haptic and making the sweet reckless decision they've ever made.

Yo, con mi trastorno cognitivo, entré a un juego de terror. Para los demás, lo grotesco y espantoso es puro horror, pero en mi percepción, se transforma en belleza y pureza. Así que, mientras todos luchan por sobrevivir, yo vivo esto como un juego de citas y crianza. Trato al duende con apariencia de niña como una hija, al conde Vampiro de las tinieblas como a un esposo guapo, y a los espectros ancianos como a padres a los que venerar. La primera vez que vi al conde, cubierto de sangre seca y con el rostro desfigurado, se me sonrojaron las mejillas. —¡Qué guapo eres! El conde se quedó desconcertado y preguntó en voz baja: —¿De… de verdad soy guapo?