"I think you enjoyed at least part of your punishment last night, sweetheart." "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible, my eyes still on his hand, on his fingers as they drew small circles that made my toes curl on my exposed, sensitive skin. He moved closer to me, making a small gasp push past my lips as I looked up, our gazes colliding. "Relax. Do you know what the fun part is, Lana? It doesn't always have to be a punishment. It could be something... exciting too. Something you'll most definitely like." - To save her entire family from the Stravkos Mafia - which was the most powerful Mafia family in Tuscany, Italy - Then sixteen-year old Solana Williams agrees to take her sister's place and becomes a sacrificial lamb - becoming Abel Stravkos' wife. Theirs is just a mere marriage of convenience, but now older, wiser and twenty-three, Solana vows revenge for all they did to her family by making Abel's life a living nightmare. Abel Stravkos does not need a wife, but with his cold-hearted father handling the helm of affairs, he's helpless to object. His heart isn't tied to this strange, beautiful, vengeful woman who's been forced down his throat. But the line between love and hate is thin, and Solana's staunch disobedience to his orders fuels his need to control her in every way possible. Driven by revenge, and an undeniable passion sizzling just beneath the surface, it's only a matter of time before their attraction for each other becomes apparent, much to the dismay of his father as well as both internal and external forces trying to pull them apart. Will they ever rise above obstacles lodged in their paths and get their happily-ever-after?
Abel
"Here," Father huffed, grabbing the contract papers from the attorney and sliding them across the Lucite glass table in our midst. I lifted my gaze to meet his harsh, unyielding eyes. "Quit looking at me and sign the damn papers already. We've got a lot of other things to get to."
I nodded nervously, skimming over the papers quickly, my pen poised over the signature line. It would be fatal to defy my father. Norman Stravkos was a no-nonsense man. The head of a powerful underground Mafia gang. A pesky drug lord that evaded the hands of the law like sudden lightning. His word was law, and his actions - unbred chaos.
Taking in a deep breath, I scribbled my signature down on the contract papers, pressing so hard that the track of my signature left a groove on the sheet of paper. Setting the pen down, I slid the papers across the table. Only this time, I wasn't passing it to my father but to her.
Solana.
Guilt spiked in my veins as I braved myself to look at her briefly before turning away. I felt, more than saw her through my peripheral vision as she lifted big, beautiful blue, frightened eyes at me. There were tear streaks at the corners and her face was beeping red. Since we got here, all she'd done was cry silently.
She wrenched her gaze from me, glancing down sadly at the collected, official documents that would bind her to me forever. Documents that would make her mine. I wasn't sure of what would be running through her mind as she stared hard at the papers. Perhaps she was trying to make sense of this. Of what had just happened. Of a cold, cruel fate that had been decided for the both of us - our consents be damned.
Then she looked up again, this time directly at her father. Amidst the burning rage, betrayal, and the billion-dollar question of why he was putting her through this misery, I detected a new emotion swirling in her reddened eyes. Grief, and a plea. A silent one. She stared at him as though he was a different man. A stranger, not her loving father.
But Williams kept his eyes lowered, his head bent forward in defeat. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. To watch her cry. I knew that this was guilt that would haunt him to the grave. Giving his beloved daughter away to ensure peace. A debt settlement.
I was mad at him, but more pissed at my father. For being this cruel. For going this far in his quest for revenge and dominance. Was it worth her life? Was it worth ruining her dreams? Was it worth ruining mine as well? Surely, I could never accomplish as much as I used to while single, now that I was saddled with a new responsibility. A new trophy.
A wife. One I didn't want. One that, I was sure, would hate me for life.
Solana sucked in a shaky breath, cleaning her eyes aggressively. How could everyone be so oblivious, so unfeeling towards her pain? Towards her sorrow, which was painfully heart-wrenching? I could see the way her chest heaved, the way she tried, unsuccessfully, to shake off this absurdity and keep a straight face. Her hand shook as she lifted up her pen, meeting my gaze once more. One last plea. One last begging for me to put an end to this, but I was as helpless as she felt. At last, she gave up, struggling against the tears that threatened to spill onto her already stained cheeks.
I was numb. Here I was, a first-hand witness to an innocent girl's pain, an innocent girl's plight and all I could do was stare. It felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. That I wasn't really sitting here. That I wasn't involved in this mess.
"Sign, already."
My Father's steel-like voice, coupled with his command made her shiver, and she turned to him. I watched their gazes collide - one filled with sorrow and tears, and the other brimming with triumph and happiness.
"We won't spend all day on this."
Norman Stravkos was indeed a man of few words. To call him domineering and difficult was simply putting things mildly. His expressionless stare alone was enough to make grown men, higher than him in rank and riches tremble.
In case you guessed right, there was no one, no one at all in New York that could match his wealth and multi-national chains of enterprises, the latter of which was a fine cover for his drug dealing escapades.
But Solana wasn't one of those cowardly men. I watched her gaze harden, her chin jutting out in defiance.
Feisty.
Her father came to the rescue. "Sign the papers, Solana. Please."
She didn't spare anyone as much as a glance after that. Quietly, she pressed the pen to the paper and signed her name - Solana Chloe Williams - on the dotted line adjacent to mine. She handed it over to the attorney, and the septuagenarian applied a seal to the sheets, before standing and exiting the room.
I slouched back on my seat, a chalky taste in my mouth. It was official. Decided. Done with.
Solana was mine.
My father stood, giving me a glaring once over that suggested that he wasn't pleased with my conduct, and strode out of the room. His two right-hand men followed him closely.
"Do you need a few minutes to bid your family goodbye?" I asked, hoping that she would see that I wasn't as uptight as my father.
"No. I don't," she barely looked at her father who still sat like a statue with his hands in my hands. Pushing her chair back, she stood, her plush pink gown that was now wrinkled, due to sitting for too long, falling over her thighs. She kept her hands by her sides, curling them into fierce little fists.
"All's been done, and I'm ready to leave now."
"Alright." I nodded, gesturing to the waiting men. She didn't wait for him to lead the way, but hurried ahead of him, as though he was escorting her to her execution. I took one last fleeting glance at her father, then at the clear glass table, the wrinkles on the leather chair where we'd all sat, taking a girl against her own will. It was all so shameful.
But I knew it could've been much worse for her. If it had gone the way my father had wanted, then there was no saving her. She would do much more than just cry. She would tear at her hair and wish she had never been born.
Norman Stravkos' cruelty was that stifling.
I'd done more than save her. I didn't intend to treat her harshly, either, now she was my wife. So why did I feel so sore? Which did I feel like a monster? A spineless idiot?
I sauntered out of the room, riding down to the lobby, all the while wiping my eyes. My throat felt tight, and there were heavy knots in my stomach. I needed fresh air. I needed a distraction. Anything at all to clear my head.
Walking out the entrance door onto the cozy Manhattan sidewalk, I clambered onto my waiting SUV wordlessly. The driver knew just where to take me, and a few minutes later, he pulled up in front of Evie's house. My mistress never expected any of my visits, but she was ever ready to satisfy me. I knocked on the door, twice, and she opened it - donning my favorite black miniskirt and a spaghetti strap top.
"Well, hello darling," she drawled, her fake Southern accent making my ears throb as she pulled me in for a hug. I wrapped my arms loosely around her waist, capturing her lips. She tasted like strawberry, and a little something more. "How did the meeting go? Was it successful?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I said stiffly, walking into the living room of her small apartment. Plopping down on a sofa, I shut my eyes and tried not to remember the fright in Solana's eyes as she lay, bound and spread out on the floor before me, with the Irish doctor probing her, and confirming that she was intact.
I'd sat there watching, and at one time I raised my voice at the doctor when her muffled screams became unbearable, urging him to go easy on her. Did that make me a little less guilty? A little more humane?
But I was aroused, my cock threatening to burst out of my straps.
She cried a lot. Each teardrop that slipped down the corner of her eyes made my collar tighten around my neck, made my head burn, and my eyes water. I'd forced myself not to hear the sounds, not to react to my father's harsh, insensitive words, her shallow breathing as she sought to remain quiet.
I'd sat there through it all.
I deserved whatever nefarious opinion she was of me right now. I was a devil. A cold-blooded monster. A puppet. Because when I finally willed myself to look at her, to meet those sea-blue eyes that were disarming, I saw the plea in them. A cry for help.
In her darkest hour, she'd sought my help, but I turned my back on her.
Her father began crying when he realized the full cost he'd agreed to; the payment of the debt he couldn't wiggle out of alone.
Her life for his. Hers for theirs.
Norman Stravkos was that evil, but it didn't absolve her father from blame. He was a coward. A selfish man and a deadbeat father. He should have done anything, everything within his power to protect her. He should have given up his life for hers. He was her protector for fuck's sake.
I sucked in a breath, blindly reaching out for the glass of wine Evie held out for me. I downed it in one go.
"More," I growled.
She did as I asked, pouring me a second glass. And one more after that. And one more till I couldn't feel my feet anymore. Yet, the alcohol did nothing to wipe that scenario from my mind. Her big sea-blue eyes were frightened. Terrified.
"I know what would make you feel better," Evie chirped, sinking to her knees before me. I widened my legs to accommodate her, sighing as she whipped out my cock from my pants gradually. She mouthed a few words - words I couldn't catch, thanks to the pounding in my head and took my already hard cock into her mouth.
I exhaled, grabbing a handful of her mousy brown hair for support, and closed my eyes, letting her do her work, taking me deep into her throat. But she was too gentle tonight, handling me like a delicate glass you that could break. I didn't want gentle.
I needed more.
Standing, I tightened my grip around her hair, squeezed my eyes shut against the image of Solana sprawled helplessly on that table, and fucked her face until she choked on my dick, tears streaming down her cheeks. I came harder than ever, groaning as I emptied down her throat. But surprisingly, my release didn't make me feel any less guilty. I still felt bad, still felt dirty, and frankly, perhaps I deserved my prickly conscience. I'd allowed it to happen. I'd sat by and done nothing when I had the power to help.
Even though it could've cost me my life, still I should've helped some more.
Now she was mine.
And she wouldn't stop loathing me till the day she breathed her last.
Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing yet another twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn. --------- "You think I'm a softie?" My voice is deceptively gentle when the rest of me is so hard. "Do you know why I pulled over?" "Why?" she says, seeming to hold her breath. Don't you dare. She's innocent. I say the words, anyway, however. I want to drive her away. Now. She caught me with my walls down and that is the ultimate invasion, made worse because I crave it happening again. "I pulled over because I know tight pussy when I see it." I frame her jaw with my right hand, tilting her blushing face up toward mine. "I'd like to fuck you on all fours, right here in the middle of the road, little girl. Rough as you can stand. Still think I'm a softie?" "No," she gasps, the green of her eyes deepening to a forest shade. "I don't." I ignore the regret stabbing me in the neck. "Good."
Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin. ---------- “I made myself tight for Big Daddy,” she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Every morning and night, I clenched it really tight, released, clenched, released…” As she says the words, her pussy performs the actions until I’m panting into the space between us, shudders wracking my body. “FUCK,” I growl, sparks blinking in front of my vision. “You’re going to get it now, little girl.” All I can do after that is make her lose her mind. That’s the only way to define it. I shove her legs open on the bed and do exactly as I threaten. I rail her like a dog, slamming my cock in and out of her wet blonde cunt. She screams and claws at me, begging me not to stop, rocking her hips up to meet my hectic drives, my grunts loud enough to be heard in the room next door, along with her calls of my name—and in this moment, I want that. I want everyone in this hotel to know I get to fuck this supple nineteen-year-old. I want them to know she primed her pussy for me so it would be extra snug. And I can’t believe my luck. Whether I’m paying or not, I can’t believe she’s allowing my big, hairy body on top of her smooth, tiny one for a single second. That she’s not only spreading her legs for me, but she’s also moaning with pleasure, not put off by my aggression at all. No, it’s making her hot. “Harder, Big Daddy. Punish me.” I’m not sure how I stop myself from ejaculating. Maybe it’s the intense need to stay locked inside her perfection for as long as possible, but somehow, I hold back. Long enough to pull out of Lia and flip her face down, yanking her hips up and back into my lap. I re=enter her with my purpling cock, our flesh slapping madly as I raw dog her from behind, employing not a hint of gentleness. She doesn't want gentleness, either. Not my girl. She tilts her hips back and asks for it harder. Faster.
When her hot, overbearing, but charming boss gets a hold of her diary, and offers to grant her greatest wish for a child, Twenty-two-year-old Felicity Graham is furious, and hesitant. For one, he's her employer. Two, she wonders if he truly loves her, or if his offer is just based on his father's pressure on him to produce a heir. — Cold, reclusive Shawn Colby has hit a dead end. Undeniably Chicago's most eligible bachelor and a well-known business tycoon, he could have anything his heart desired. Women, cars, numerous houses if he wanted. When his overbearing father demands that he settle down and produce an heir, Shawn can't think of anyone else but Felicity — his calm, sweet personal assistant. When he gets hold of Felicity's diary, and finds out that her greatest dream is to have a child of her own, he propositions her. But Felicity is furious, and hesitant. Besides being Shawn's assistant, she's close to his family as well, and is aware of the pressure he's under to bring forth a heir. What happens when a business trip up-turns their lives? Can Shawn prove that he truly loves her for her, pressure aside?
After the mysterious death of her parents, Portia Esmeralda is bullied into a contract marriage by her two elder brothers who once loved her. But things start going pretty downhill when on her wedding day, the groom is nowhere to be seen and the guests are all killed. As well as her evil brothers. In order to end what would become a generational feud, and save her cousin, Portia agrees to marry Callahan Scarfoni — the monster who ruined her day and killed her terrible brothers. Callahan is a man scarred by his past and thirsty for revenge. His sole plan? Finish off the Esmeralda family till no one is left. Just like how they didn't spare his many years ago. But there's just one Esmeralda he just couldn't hurt, no matter what. Portia. She's his to tame. She's his possession, to own and protect.
New York's most eligible bachelor, Norman Rockwell has everything he could ever as for. Wealth, power, an insane amount of women falling at his feet, and peace of mind. But he's lacking something. One thing his heart desires so much. A baby. An heir. One he would leave everything he's worked for when he dies. He's been with so many women, and none are suitable. None have that flourish, that demeanor of being a mother. They're all after his money. After his dick. All except Sasha, his red-headed, smoking-hot, no-nonsense PA. She's the only one who could rein him in. Keep him in control. Make him smile. But she's not new to the array of beautiful women who normally grace his office. Convincing her to be his won't be easy, but he's willing to conquer her heart. No matter what it takes. She must be the mother of his child. He would have no other woman, but her.
The youngest prince of Melissa, Asher has been mated to the crown Alpha prince of Agravia, the first and most influential kingdom of Jo. Everyone said that he was lucky to be mated to Dominic, and Asher knew men - and women - who would give anything to take his place. But he didn't feel lucky. In fact, he loathed Dominic with every fiber of his being. Dominic is cold, calculative, aloof, and possessive. The mere sight of Asher irritates him, and the only time he opened his mouth to speak to him, was only to criticize. Asher will do anything to get away from their fated marriage - even if it meant bringing shame upon both kingdoms. But the line between a scorching hate and brewing passion can be thin, and when they blur, the emotions come tumbling down. Finally free of his monster of a husband, Asher finds out that he can't live without him. Is it sane to want the man who's done nothing but belittle you from the first moment he set his eyes on you? Is it messed up to crave his words, his touch, his cold presence? Asher knows his relationship with his mate is anything but healthy, yet he can't stop going back. And he didn't wish to stop. At all.
In their three years of marriage, Chelsea had been a dutiful wife to Edmund. She used to think that her love and care would someday melt Edmund's cold heart, but she was wrong. Finally, she couldn't take the disappointment any longer and chose to end the marriage. Edmund had always thought that his wife was just boring and dull. So it was shocking when Chelsea suddenly threw divorce papers at his face in front of everyone at the Nelson Group's anniversary party. How humiliating! After that, everyone thought that the formerly-married couple would never see each other again, even Chelsea. Once again, she thought wrong. Sometime later, at an award ceremony, Chelsea went onstage to accept the award for best screenplay. Her ex-husband, Edmund, was the one presenting the award to her. As he handed her the trophy, he suddenly reached for her hand and pleaded humbly in front of the audience, "Chelsea, I'm sorry I didn't cherish you before. Could you please give me another chance?" Chelsea looked at him indifferently. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nelson. My only concern now is my business." Edmund's heart was shattered into a million pieces. "Chelsea, I really can't live without you." But his ex-wife just walked away. Wasn't it better for her to just concentrate on her career? Men would only distract her—especially her ex-husband.
I am the most talented doctor, the genius artist, the most famous jeweler designer, and I am going to be the richest one, making Conor, the king of a super powerful family, lose his crown… Conor was hunt down me for six years because I raped him. No, because he raped me. It didn't matter anyway. Since be selling by my father, I was gonna be Conor's fake wife. The noble people thought I would be a disgrace to their family since I was the mentally handicapped. What fuck! When I was going to be gotten rid of as rubbish, a baby boy showed up and called me mom. Conor gaped at baby boy since the baby boy just looked like child version of him. Conor sheathed in my body, moaning, “Don’t hide from me. Tell me everything, sweetheart.” I blinked, grinning, “Our baby girl also misses her daddy.” Conor, "…"
After a devastating divorce with the man she had been married to for over three years, Rachel thought her life was over. Her family disowned her, they wanted nothing to do with her anymore and she couldn't blame them. She had just divorced David Hart, one of the top successful bachelors in the country and heir to the Hart industries. But they would never understand that she didn't divorce him, he divorced her after she caught him cheating on her with her god-damned best friend! Rachel was just about to end everything by jumping off a bridge when she was saved by the most unexpected person. The boy she once bullied severally in highschool because he always wore ugly glass and was from a poor background, how come that glass make him so hot now? Why was he helping her get revenge on ex-husband who is trying to make her life even more miserable? And most important how did he get so handsome? What exactly does he want from her? ... No, you must want something, anything. If you can really help me get revenge on David and Lana, I can't just let you do it for free". Ethan went quiet for a while. I held my breath waiting for what his request might be. If it was something money could buy, I'll try my best to get it for him even though I was somehow broke right now. "You're right I do want something". He said after thinking for few minutes "What?" I asked slowly. " Until you get your revenge on David, Lana and every other person you want, you will live here". Live here as in...? " Wha... What are you saying? ". I stammered hoping he wasn't saying what I thought he was saying. I tried to step back but I missed a step and almost fell on the bed but Ethan caught me holding me in his muscular arms. Ethan moved his face closer to mine be was so close, our nose almost touched. " I want you to be with me! ".
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
For seven years, Jillian pursued Bryan with unyielding passion, but he remained distant, his emotions tightly sealed. Disheartened, she left for overseas after graduating from college. Three years later, Jillian, now a successful attorney, sat provocatively on the lap of Bryan's competitor. She flashed Bryan a playful smile and taunted, "What's wrong, Bryan? Are you impotent?" Bryan's restraint shattered in an instant. In a swift motion, he scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. The next morning, as Bryan woke up, Jillian flashed a mischievous smile. "Let's keep things casual, okay?"
Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”