Whispering Artinya

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

"Good boys don't wear briefs," the man murmured in a low, seductive tone, causing Ivan's blood to heat up. An involuntary soft moan escaped Ivan's lips as he fought to catch his breath. Upon returning home from the office, he had purposely discarded his briefs, knowing the effect it had on his mysterious lover. The man always preferred him naked, and Ivan complied willingly. Whispering softly, Ivan repeated the words of his dream invader: "Good boys do not wear briefs." His voice was barely audible. The man pulled Ivan's buttocks firmly against his hips, causing a surge of sensations to rush through Ivan's body. "Good boys must be spanked," the man declared, inhaling Ivan's sweet scent, before planting his lips on the exposed soft skin. Ivan trembled and closed his eyes as the man playfully bit and kissed his neck, his hands teasingly exploring his torso, eventually reaching his sensitive, hardened nipples. After weeks of longing and erotic torture, there was one thing Ivan yearned for: Why couldn't his dream progress to the moment when the man actually penetrated him? The point where he claimed Ivan as his own. For at least, Ivan believed that he would truly comprehend what it felt like to be intertwined with him even in his dreams. To have himself be intimately connected with him. However, Ivan was aware that enduring the torture from this man, in his dreams, was the price he must pay for what he did ten years ago. Everything he feared, everything he regretted was coming back to slap him in the face tonight. By 6 p.m. he would be coming face to face with his dream invader at the college ten years reunion party, Shawn Maddox, in flesh.

Every chapter gives you something new, secret affairs, risky relationships, and characters who crave hard and love harder. Think Mafia, Landlord, Alpha, every dirty fantasies you can think of. Professor and student. Neighbor crush. Master and submissive. If you’re 18+ and ready for filthy, wild, messy passion then this ride is for you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 'Confess more while I absolve you.' His fingers plunged into her pussy, still slick from earlier, pumping roughly. Isabella gasped, gripping the kneeler. 'I... I rode his cock, bouncing until he spanked me. Oh God, your fingers... deeper.' Miguel added a third, stretching her, thumb on her clit. He leaned in, whispering, 'Did he make you cum as hard as I did?' She nodded, moaning. 'But not like this. Not in God's house.' He withdrew his fingers, slick with her arousal, and smeared them on his cock before pressing the head to her entrance. 'Kneel properly, face the screen.' She did, ass out toward him. He thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in one go. The booth shook slightly with the force. 'Continue your confession,' he ordered, pulling back and slamming in again. 'Javier... he fingered my ass while fucking me,' she panted, pushing back onto his cock. Miguel growled, jealous fire fueling his thrusts. He grabbed her hips, pounding harder, the wet sounds obscene in the sacred space. 'You're a slut for cock, aren't you? My slut.' His hand snaked around, rubbing her clit in fast circles. 'Yes, Father! Fuck your slut while I confess.' She reached back, spreading her cheeks, inviting him deeper. He spat on her asshole, working a finger in alongside his pistoning cock.

I WAS walking confidently on the red carpet. Today is the event of the Cohen Modelling Agency. The paparazzi immediately went after and lots of flash stroke in my eyes. I'm a bit nervous while walking in the midst of the red carpet. I chose the right path. This is what I want. Even though I chose my career and my unborn child, my heart was still empty. I opted to leave him and break up with him. I opted all of this that's occuring around me. Fame, money, and being a beautiful woman. Until I'd decided to walk inside the event. I grasp my clutch tightly when I saw how exquisite the ambience of it. The huge chandelier at the center and waves of people were chattering inside. I held up my chin and continue to walk and I saw Sophia walking towards to my direction. "You're just in time," she exclaimed. "Come with me..." "Okay..." Nakita ko yung pamilyar na lalaki na nakatayo. I felt my heart thumping so crazily. And butterflies were twisted in knots inside of my stomach when our gaze met. It's been a days... I haven't seen him. The last time I saw when I broke up with him inside of his office. My hands began to shudder in nervous. And his wife is there beside him. I smiled. This is what I want, right? To let go of him? "Oh, Miss Portugal," he acknowledged. "Good evening, Mr. Cohen..." We used to be sweet with each other. He used to snake his arms around my waist and whispering to me all the sweet things. But that was before... I knew we can't continue this kind of relationship. It is too forbidden. Too forbidden to taste because I'll get addicted to it again and again.

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

TRIGGER WARNING!! DARK ROMANCE Sexual content, Slavery, 18+, Violence, and Abusive content. Dark Romance, read at your own risk. "So, you made a choice?" His dark voice vibrated in the room, making me flinch. I brought my legs closer in fear, as if I could stop this fear from crawling through my skin, reaching all parts of my body, and nodded my head, whispering "yes.". "Here." He slammed the contract in front of me. I flinched, raised my head, and looked into his dark, angry blue eyes, immediately lowering them in fear. I once wished for him to spare me a glance, and that could make my day, but right now, his deep blue eyes scare me the most, and I don't want him to even look at me. "You are ready to sacrifice yourself to save that motherfucker?!" His angry voice rang in the room with a hint of pain, making me flinch, and an instant guilt followed. I feel so guilty for hurting the man that I love the most, and yet... I am not ready to hurt the other important people in my life. I tried my best to stay calm, not giving him an answer. "Fine! I know how to make you talk!" His voice was low and filled with anger as he said it through his clenched teeth. My hands started to shiver at the thought of going through the same pain he just put me through a few hours ago. How to make me talk? Is ... is he going to hurt me the same way again? 'you deserve it' My conscious replied. --------------- what happens when the person she loves the most hurts her the most? What happens when she is pulled into his darkness that she never knew existed?

“Tell me, Scarlett. What do you want?” His voice is a growl — low, filthy — fingers teasing beneath the lace of my panties, just enough to make me squirm. “Say it. I want to hear you beg for it.” He murmurs the words, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “We shouldn’t be doing this…” I whisper, breathless, my body already arching into his touch, betraying every word I just said. Then his fingers slide into my soaked folds, and a sharp moan escapes my lips. He chuckles. Dark. Wicked. “Then why are you so wet for me?” — All Scarlett Bennett wants after a messy divorce that nearly destroyed her reputation and forced her out of the career she loved is a fresh start with absolutely no complications. Even when she wakes up dazed after a reckless, mind-blowing one-night stand, she tells herself it was just sex. A mistake. A moment of weakness that would never happen again. Until she walks into her new office… and sees him. The man who had her spread across his bed, begging for more. The man she now works for. Lucien Whitmore. Lucien is all sharp edges and sin. He's a Billionaire. Brilliant. Mysterious and every bit as dangerous as he is irresistible. He is everything she should avoid — powerful, untouchable, and entirely too used to getting what he wants. And what he wants… is her. She swore it would never happen again. But when he’s got her bent over his desk, whispering praise in a voice that makes her knees weak, she forgets every reason she ever had to resist him. She’s not just a part of his empire now. She’s his favorite sin. And if the world finds out? They’ll both burn for it.

When Aria Thorn returns to her pack after a year in exile, she expects nothing but whispers of shame and Damien Blackthorn’s cold rejection still haunting her. Instead, she steps into a battlefield of power and betrayal. The once-proud Shadowfang pack now belongs to Alpha Riven Cade—a ruthless warrior who rebuilt it from ruin, feared for his iron control and merciless command. Damien, her former lover and childhood friend, has risen to power as a cunning strategist. His ambition burns brighter than ever—claim the Alpha seat, claim the pack, and claim Aria as his Luna, no matter the cost. But destiny has other plans. On the night of Aria’s return, under the blazing eyes of the Moonlight Ceremony, she is branded with a mate bond before the entire pack. Not with Damien. With Riven. What begins as survival spirals into a war of love and power. Riven demands her loyalty but offers no warmth, every clash between them simmering with fury and forbidden desire. Damien manipulates allies, whispering poison into ears until the pack itself begins to fracture. And as betrayal seeps through the ranks, Aria’s buried Shadowfang bloodline awakens—its power tied to a prophecy that could unite the Alphas or destroy them all. Her grandmother’s dying visions warn her: one Alpha she loves must die. Allies vanish. Missions are sabotaged. Blood spills beneath the full moon. Caught between her cold, fated Alpha and her dangerous ex-lover, Aria must choose: save her people beside Riven—or surrender to vengeance and risk becoming the storm that ends them all. Every heartbeat brings her closer to the truth: love is war, destiny is betrayal, and her Shadowfang bloodline is both her greatest weapon—and her deadliest curse.

"Good girl, now, call me daddy!" He whispers; his voice sexy as . "Daddy!" I voiced out, but it came out as a whispering threat. "Louder!" He commands. "Daddy!" I yelled softly, feeling the deliciousness of how sins are made. He my forehead and then reaches over to the bedside table for a foil packet. "Stay still, don't move," He orders as he releases my hair. He rips the foil while I'm breathing hard, my blood singing in my veins. The anticipation is exhilarating. He leans down, his weight on me again, and he grabs my hair holding my head immobile. I cannot move. He enticingly traps me, and he's poised and ready to take me once more. "We're going to go real, slow this time, Brie," he breathes. And slowly, he knocks on my sinful entrance of mahogany as he slowly pushes inside of me in ease into me until his length is fully buried in me. He was stretching, filling, relentless. I groan loudly. It feels deeper this time, delectable. I complained again, and he deliberately circles his hips and pulls back, pauses a beat, and then eases his way back in. - Let's talk about the most powerful young bachelor, A business mogul of his time, Jonathan Christopher, De Leon. Combined, JACE DE LEON. After a failed attempt from high school, the courageous plus timid girl left him with a very challenging heart target hunt. A couple of years passed, his hunger for her supplemented after prowling her like what feels like forever, he yearns for her which leads to racing hormones and drifting dark desires of his very own Infatuations. How will the relationship between a powerful casanova and an elegant part-timer be restricted?

ADRIAN'S POV My head was pounding, a dull throb that echoed the frantic beat of my heart. I was hot, too hot, my skin slick with an unfamiliar sweat. I knew it instantly: drugged. One moment I was escorting Aria, basking in the glittering lights and dancing with her in the ballroom at her birthday party. Next, a wine from a waiter, a trip to the bathroom, and then… darkness. I blinked, trying to focus on the blur above me. Damien. My stalker. The man who’d been haunting the edges of my life for weeks, whispering cryptic claims of a shared past I couldn’t recall. He was on top of me, pinning me to the plush velvet of some unfamiliar bed. His eyes, usually so intense and unsettling, were filled with a disturbing mix of guilt and desperation. "I’m sorry, Adrian, I'm so sorry I had to do this, but I can't stand seeing you with her. Watching you rewrite our history... please, remember me. Remember us." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "I promise, I'll cherish you this time." Then, his lips crashed onto mine, a fierce, possessive kiss that stole my breath away. His hands moved over me, desperate and knowing, igniting a fire that both terrified and strangely thrilled me. Maybe it was the drug blurring the lines of reason. Or maybe… just maybe, deep down, my body recognized something my mind couldn’t. It responded to his touch with a shameful eagerness, a desperate need that mirrored his own. All I could do was surrender to the moment, to the heat, to the undeniable connection I felt with this man, Damien, as I returned his kiss with a fervor that shocked us both.