Zipped Mouth

He caught hold of her leg and yanked backwards. She hung on and flailed both legs, kicking him in the head, the face. He fought to hold her legs down. Sweat lathered her hands. They slipped from the post. He yanked again. She rolled over to face him and punched with both fists. Her right fist caught him in the eye. He growled in pain, then threw himself on top of her, pinning her arms and legs. She screamed.She strained to free herself, lunged up to bite him. He jerked backwards. They slid down one stair. She tried to scream again. He slapped a palm over her mouth, his breath hot on her face.She fought him until they had tumbled down every stair. By the time they reached the bottom, every ligament burned. She stared at him wide-eyed, gasping for breath between his bruising fingers.She trembled violently, longed to run again but knew it would do no good. He stood at a good seven inches taller and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She didn't stand a chance.All she could do now was placate him. Do what he wanted... no matter what it was!

What's that saying about never looking a gift horse in the mouth? Well, I did. I looked it straight in the eyes, after I called it a moron, drooled a little, remembered I hate the oposite sex and then I ran. The life I have had changed the moment my mother passed. The life I struggled to adapt to after college tore me apart emotionally. I thought he was my saviour. He helped me grieve. He was there when I didn't want him to be, when I didn't know I needed him to be. He was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. He fought my demons with me and for me, he watched me and over me. He creeped me out, but made me feel safe in many ways, so tell me why this specific gift came with only one stipulation. Who hurt me? The gift horse would be Lorenzo Russo. Empire builder and underground Mafia man. He's a smart man with good charms and psychopathic tendencies who ensures he gets what he wants, so he doesn't take kindly to being told no. By me.

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."

He was supposed to be a fantasy. A younger man with a filthy mouth and a dangerous smile. But when Aria lied about her age, she didn’t expect Logan to show up at her door—with a hard-on, a temper, and a past soaked in blood. Aria Monroe is rich, powerful, and lonely. At thirty-eight, she’s tired of fake friends, shallow men, and pretending she doesn’t crave something real. On a whim, she uploads a younger photo to a dating app… and gets matched with Logan Reed—a cocky, ex-military heartthrob ten years her junior. Their connection? Instant. Addictive. Dangerous. But when Logan finds out she lied, he doesn’t walk away. He comes closer. He kisses her like a punishment. He fucks her like revenge. And when threats begin circling her life like vultures, Logan turns savage. He’ll kill for her. Bleed for her. Burn down her world to keep her. Even if she fights him every step of the way. Age means nothing when obsession takes over. But Aria's secrets run deeper than her lies… And Logan’s darkness? It’s just beginning.

Loverina, a lonely girl trained by her poor grandmother, unexpectedly got into a shitty mess with the heir of the Oscars' family. To pay the price of her deeds, she was taken by the heir as a slave to satisfy his sexual urge. What power does a low class commoner have over such high status? *** Loverina was about to eat the food Alexis brought earlier when Jayden came out of the bathroom, naked. Seeing that, her fork dropped back in the plate and her mouth wide opened. Their eyes met and she looked away immediately as her cheeks got hot. He was just too perfect. And she wished he would come over and touch her, she was already daydreaming when his voice brought her back to reality. “Is it your first time seeing me like this?” He was in front of her with a towel in his hand, drying out his wet hair. He would have just tied the towel around his waist but instead, he came out naked with the towel on his hand. That’s hot! She swallowed hard, inwardly praying in her mind for anything. She didn’t even have a particular thing in mind. “No.” she finally mumbled.

My mouth inched away from his, and we panted for air. “This feels wrong,” I whispered and looked away. I darted my tongue out to lick my lips, my body still pressed against his legs. He held my chin, and I turned my head to look back at him. “Good pleasures never feel right,” he said, as he settled me onto the bed, his body hovering over mine. He lifted my legs and wrapped them against his hips as he claimed the whole of me. Winter Cooper, a young budding journalist, thought her boyfriend was going to propose during their long-awaited vacation holiday in the private cabin they had booked. But when she caught him in bed with her sister, her dreams of getting married that year were shattered. Determined not to let the heartbreak ruin her final long gotten vacation holiday, Winter decided to retreat to the luxurious private cabin alone. However, upon her arrival, she met an unexpected guest: Gavril Hawthorne, her billionaire ex-boyfriend’s father. With nowhere else to go, they are forced to stay together. What started as an awkward encounter soon blossomed into an unexpected romance.

Eleanor Bella Starr is Black and You magazine's lead writer. After being threatened by her egocentric boss to either get something interesting enough to wow him, or take a tumble in his sheets, Eleanor hightails it to Orlando, Lake Creek. Lake Creek, home of the internet's weirdest stories. DESCRIPTION: STAY OUT! SAVE YOURSELF! How do you keep a writer away from that? Moreso, one as inquisitive as Eleanor. The mysteries begin the minute she arrives. The deeper she goes, the loopier it becomes. She is in a world of madness of the mind, death and bloodshed. She brought herself in.... But she can't get out. She hears things she can't fathom, sees things that are mind boggling and becomes something that definitely wasn't in her plans. Plans? There are no plans anymore. Plans can't exist in a world like this. Kill or be killed. Will the hunter become the hunted? Or will the hunter laugh last? Strangely enough, love blooms. She falls right into Andreas. Literally. Ever heard of the term, soul mates? How do you realize someone is yours, only after his mouth has been assaulted by someone else's, in your presence? In what world is that fair?!

"You foolish bitch, do you really think you can marry Henry?". Her mouth curved into a wicked smile as she lowered her head to look at Ashley. "I am the real daughter of the head of the Browns. You will never become the bright and shinning flower of the Brown family" she let out a low snort "It would have been better if you end up like your stupid mother" she said with an evil grin on her face Ashley tighten her grip on her cloth as she heard Lucia's statement "You will never know what the drug you took was and what I have in stock for you. But one thing I'm sure of is that you enjoy your wedding night in advance" She then took out her phone, and dialed a number. "Are the two street ruffians I have arranged especially for my sister ready? Tell them to come here now." Ashley opened her eyes wide in shock upon hearing what Lucia had said. She knew that Lucia had never liked her. But she didn't expect that her to be this vicious. It seemed that Lucia wanted to drug her and found someone to rape her. Such a wicked woman!

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

Sandy grew up surrounded by kids who adored the story of Cinderella—the gentle girl who lost her father, was cast aside by her cruel stepfamily, and endured endless chores without ever fighting back. But Sandy? She loathed it. She couldn’t stand how Cinderella stayed silent, how she let herself be tormented. Then one day, Sandy died in a fire. And woke up as Cinderella. Thrown into the very tale she despised, Sandy tries to play her part—scrubbing floors, swallowing her pride, surviving the cruelty of her stepmother and stepsisters. But everything changes when she’s kidnapped by bandits. Cornered in the forest, her fear turns into rage… and something inside her erupts. A powerful gust of wind explodes from her body, flattening everything around her. Real, terrifying magic. Her eyes flew wide, her mouth agape—pure disbelief etched across her face. Could it be? Did Cinderella possess supernatural powers? And not just her—almost everyone in the kingdom shimmered with something… otherworldly. Was this still the fairytale she thought she knew? Or had the story slipped into something far more enchanted than anyone imagined?