Wind Breathing

To protect my boyfriend, Nico, the illegitimate son of our allies, the Moretti family, from their internal power struggles, I agreed to leave New York with him. But on the eve of my adoptive father, the Don of the Falcone family, signing our transfer orders, he backed out. Through the hidden door of the cigar lounge, I heard his right-hand man tease him: "So you really kept up that act for three months just to get rid of the princess?" "But she's your childhood sweetheart. You really have the heart to some miserable fishing village in the Baltics all by herself?" Nico's voice was nonchalant. "It's just an outpost across the pond. How far can it be?" "Scarlett is too controlling. If I don't get her out of the picture, how am I supposed to get any breathing room? Besides, I need to put Chloe at ease." I stood behind that hidden door for a long time that night, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles were white, before I finally let go. I turned and walked away, pulling out my tablet to change my flight plan. I changed the destination from the official plan of that desolate Baltic outpost to a seat at the High Table in Sicily, which is the absolute center of old-world Mafia power. Everyone seemed to have forgotten. I am the princess of the Falcone family. And he is nothing but filth from the gutter. We were never a match.

A Biker/Billionaire/Mafia Romance With my fingers gliding across his flesh, I kept contact as I moved around to his back and across the broad expanse between each shoulder. Afterward, I ran my fingers in a soft caress over the nape of his neck—God, how I'd always wanted to touch him in this way—and then began making my way over to the opposite shoulder, shortly coming around to his collarbone. Afterward, with a pivot of my fingertips, and practiced turns of my feet, I came a full one hundred and eighty degrees, facing him again. As I gazed into his eyes, my breathing increased, and I felt myself give a small pant as I moved my fingers down to his chest... Shattered-Way down we Go" - A heart-wrenching tango of love, loss, and redemption unfolds as Marlowe Mills, the daughter of the president for The Sons of Morning Star MC, is secretly in love with Torin Montero, a member of her father's MC, who becomes her father's rival and her silent protector. However her love is torn apart by a brutal betrayal. When the embers of their past reignite, Marlowe finds herself in the treacherous embrace of a Mob boss's son, entangled in a web of obsession and danger. But fate has a twist in store: Torin lives, scarred and driven by his own vendetta. As the lines between love and vengeance blur, Marlowe must choose between the comfort of the shadows or the tumultuous dance of destiny.

He crouched in front of me and pulled my hair. “I’m talking to you!” He growled into my ears and I forced myself to whimper “I’m sorry” again. He looked at me with so much outrage. “I should kill you”, his voice was a low growl. “No one disobeys me – no one at all. You just failed your first test”. He let go of my hair and stood straight and I wished he’d just let me go. He walked away from me And went to stand in front of the table. “Take off your cIothes and get on the bed” he passed the command and I felt my bIood run cold. If not for the fact I was still breathing, I would have believed I was dead. I thought I was dead. He was going to do the same thing the previous man had almost done to me. The same thing was going to happen. “Make me repeat myself again and you’ll lose your head”, Alpha Leo turned with a snap and with his hands stretched towards me, and I started choking. I had to pay for the sins i know nothing about... I must fulfill my mother's dying wishes even if it meant giving my body and my pride away in return. Alexavia is on a mission to claim back everything her parents had lost twenty years ago, but will she be able to face the hurdles along the way ?

Camille Valentin was never meant to survive the night she landed on Adrien Duval’s operating table. Broken, bruised, pregnant, and hollowed out by a marriage that nearly destroyed her, she becomes just another patient to the most feared surgeon in Paris. Cold hands. Steady eyes. No questions asked. Except Adrien knows her. She is the ex-wife of his best friend. The woman he was never allowed to look at twice. He saves her life and sends her away, determined to forget the way her scars haunt him. But fate is cruel. Weeks later, Camille walks back into his world as his son’s new nanny. Living under his roof. Breathing his air. Healing in his shadow. Too soft for the darkness that surrounds him. Too broken to run. Adrien Duval is a billionaire, a surgeon, a man built on control and restraint. He has rules he never breaks. He does not touch patients. He does not betray friends. He does not want what does not belong to him. Camille is all three. Every glance is forbidden. Every touch is dangerous. Every heartbeat between them is a sin waiting to happen. And when enemies resurface, secrets bleed into the open, and the past comes to collect its debt, Adrien must decide whether to protect the world he built… or burn it down for the woman who was never supposed to be his. Some love stories are written in stars. Theirs is written in scars, silence, and the things you are never allowed to want.

“I didn't think you'd come,” Mason Remington said. Lisa's breathing slowly increased as she tightly gripped the contract in her hands. It was already rumpled from the many times she'd read it, playing its letters like a movie in her head, over and over. Was she honestly considering it? She had a boyfriend. And even though she had always wanted Mason, craved him for years, he was her brother's best friend, who before today had never thought of her as anything other than a little sister. She knew what he wanted and what she'd be getting into if she went through with this, but all those thoughts seemed to vanish as she made her way into his office. Mason closed the distance between them, drawing her close with his hands to her waist and closing the door forcefully behind her. He now had her in his arms, giving her a small smile before crushing his mouth to hers, shutting her up before she could say anything. His hands moved up her back and crushed her tiny body against his, causing a quiet moan from her. He kissed her as though he was hungry for her. It wasn't just a show of power but desire. And with every brush of his tongue against hers, she knew all too well, that there was no way on earth she could say no to his proposal.

This book has a mix of steamy erotic stories, each one with its own twist. Book 1: Best friends Yas, a woman consumed by her unrequited lust for her best friend Dian. What begins as secret fantasies escalates into deception, intense physical encounters, and emotional turmoil involving Dian's girlfriend, Trina. The story revolves around sexual tension between Yas and Dian, including themes of forbidden attraction, jealousy and the blurred lines between friendship and desire. Sneak peek: “Hot spurts of cum flooded my pussy, filling me up as he ground against me, milking every drop. His grip on my hips bruised, holding me in place while he emptied himself inside. The sound of her name on his lips hit me like a slap, even as the warmth of his release seeped deeper. Disappointment filled me, a sharp and bitter feeling in my chest. I was the one here, taking his cock, feeling him spill into me, but it was her he wanted, her he called for in ecstasy. He collapsed onto me, breathing heavy, oblivious to the truth. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing a soft laugh as I stroked his back. The darkness hid my tears, but not the hollow ache settling in as the one question I dreaded lingered in my head, What is he going to do when he finds out?”

“Oh come on, I know you're jealous that I kissed her.” “Respect your mom.” My breathing doubled. I should've resisted and ran away, but I did no such thing, I stayed. His hands began to explore my back as I tried to fight. “But do you respect her? Because if you did, you wouldn't have such naughty thoughts about your best friend's son, not like he minds it though.” He could see right through me, and it made me panic. “Shut your mouth! Like you said, you're a little twenty two years old, so why should I be attracted to you?” “But you are.” “I'm not, let go of me!” I flung his hands off my body, but I still couldn't move, much to my dismay. “I thought so. Let's just stop this.” His smirk was unmistakable. “Stop what?” I was so hot, I wanted him to touch me. “Let's give each other what we want, how about that, Aunt Candice?” …… Barely days after my best friend's famous hockey player son started living with me, he successfully dragged me to his bed. I should be ashamed, but he's too hot to resist. Will my best friend find out?

•She ain't a good girl! She is the girl you don't want to mess with! ________ •He is a loved good guy in this world of hyped-up bad boys! Unless! Unless! You cross her way for the bad girl has wrapped the good guy around her little finger and makes him sin! BUT!!! •What happens when the trust is broken? '''The magical spell of euphoria is distorted and piercing pieces of betrayal unfurls making you bleed.''' __________ "Addiction is fucking heart-wrenching!" She stated taking a long drag of the cigarette which was held in between her lips. Then she blew out the smoke and jumped on the bonnet of the car. "Put this away then!" He raised his finger towards the cigarette. "Not this," she affirmed inhaling nicotine once again. "It's addiction is helpful to drown all other horrifying addictions." A pregnant pause engulfed them. The only sound was the whispering of wind with the shedding leaves of trees. The autumn had prevailed the green life likewise their souls were also shedding off its color, painfully. Agonizingly slow. "I'm always here for you!" He whispered. "I know!" Under the faint moonlight her self-pitying smile could be seen. "Besides these drugs you are the only one who is here for me." He did not say anything back for he knew she won't reply now. He too sat on the bonnet and taking the cigarette from her he inhaled the smoke. ___________ Find who the enigmatic warrior is or is that you?

Deep in the night, the ballroom was filled with splendor and dazzling Jewells. Young women showed off their slim figures wearing tight-ass corsets. Eloise shrunk to the corner, adjusting his boobs in her makeshift bra. ‘Fuck who is crazy enough to wear a corset. They want to destroy their ribs, don’t they….’ “Eloise,” a middle-aged woman happily waved at her from the center of a huge crowd. Eloise back away. “that’s my cue to leave. No way am I going over there,” she subtly ran out of the ballroom into the hallway. The cold wind and salty droplets hit her face as she moved closer to the edge of the ship. Suddenly a man in a majestic three-piece suit walked up to her. It was duke Raymond. ‘he must have been chased around by girls. Poor guy having such a handsome face is also dangerous,’ she thought, casually sipping her wine. he moved dangerously closer, panting softly. “Duke you are too close.” She reminded him. He suddenly cupped her face and kissed her lips. His sharp tooth tore into her bottom lips. “hmmm!!” Blood dripped down their connected faces, staining her beautiful white dress red. Eloise pushed him away hurriedly. “Duke! What the hell…” Glancing up, she froze. His eyes were blood red. “I want your blood, Eloise… I want you so bad.” “Huh! I thought you were gay! Hey!”

The champagne was flat, much like the expression on Julian’s face. "It’s not that I don’t love you, Elara," he said, adjusting his $5,000 suit jacket. "It’s just that you’ve become... predictable. I need a woman who challenges the world, not someone who waits for me to come home and tell her what color the sky is." Elara felt the sting of the words more than the cold wind on the balcony. For six years, she had been Julian’s shadow. She had curated his life, managed his moods, and dimmed her own light so he could shine brighter. And now, on the night of his company’s gala, he was discarding her like an outdated software update. "Predictable?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Go home, Elara. I’ve already had your things moved to the guest house. We can talk about a settlement in the morning." She didn't wait for the morning. She didn't wait for the "settlement." She walked out into the rain, her silk dress clinging to her skin like a second, cold layer of grief. It wasn't until three days later, sitting in a dingy motel with nothing but a suitcase and a bruised soul, that the notification popped up on her phone. ARE YOU READY TO LIVE FOR YOURSELF? ENTER THE SURVIVAL GAME. WIN YOUR FREEDOM. Elara stared at the golden icon on the screen. It felt like a trap. Or maybe, it was the only way out.