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.
Portia.
I sigh as soft, feathery lace falls across my face. It's black and heavily stained from being tucked away for so many years, and the smell that clings to it makes my stomach churn. It's musty. Dry, and reeks with dust. I suppress the urge to fling it away because it belonged to my mother. It's the same one she wore on her wedding day. The same one my grandmother wore on her big day as well.
Clove pink and discarded daisies are scattered, littering the stone floor. The huge, black woman who's been brought to help me prepare grumbles behind me. It's the fifth time she's wondering aloud why she has to work with an old, musty, smelly veil when a new one stays tucked in its box a few meters away. I move my foot, tossing the delicate clove pink about, before crushing it, impaling it's bright pink petal with my heel.
It's my wedding day, but it feels like a funeral. No, a funeral would have been better. My funeral.
Wish I had it a while ago.
The strong, heady smell of the pink carnation makes my stomach turn. I've envisioned my wedding day so many times, despite my fate. This doesn't match the picture-perfect image I have in mind at all.
Not that I expected it to.
"Done," the woman whistles, stepping away from me and dusting her hands. "At long last."
I exhale as I stand, the now-dirtied petal sticking to my heel. Not that I give two fucks about that. Lifting my face tentatively, I let my eyes roam over my reflection in the mirror. "What do you think he'll say about the veil, Amma?"
She tsks, shaking her head as her lips curl up in distaste. "Fernando is the embodiment of niceties, but I'm doubly sure he won't like that veil. It's old and an eyesore."
I shift my gaze and let my eyes settle on her fully for the first time, taking her in properly. She's average in height, plump and has a huge black birthmark on the side of her face. Her soft, pitch-black tresses frame her almond face, and enhance her small, pretty eyes. The expression; a green snake underneath a green grass fits her so well. She's just as cunning as the rest of the devils who kept me confined her, her gentle outlook be damned.
"I guess he'll have no choice but to get used to it. I'll only have it on for an hour at most, anyway."
"Why don't you just wear the damn one he sent? I swear, you and your brothers are stubborn."
I don't bother to answer her, smothering the crinkles on my gown. She has a point though. The veil was a gift from my brothers.
A gift.
No, not a gift.
Just another cruelty to make me wear my mother's veil for this disgusting wedding ceremony. They know how much I detest this. How much I loathe Fernando.
He's an enemy of our family for crying out loud. Why are they honouring his wants like little, needy puppets?
Amma snorts and turns to gather the dress, the keys jangling on her waist. I stare hard at them. Tiny metal demons. I could take them. Knock her over. That part would be easy as pie. It's the men with guns outside the door who'll be the problem.
Noisy footsteps advance from a mile away, announcing the approach of soldiers to my basement room.
A basement. A fucking basement, that's where they locked me in. My own brothers. Flesh and blood. Same mother, same father.
From the way things are going, they're expecting me to put up a resistance. A strong fight. They'll take me kicking, screaming and crying if I do, I very well know that. Besides, I'm smart enough not to waste my energy on them. I'll need it after for something more important. For the wedding night.
A man shouts something in Russian, and another laughs. A low whistle pierce through the air, followed by a loud thud like something heavy falling. Scuffling feets, and blows are heard.
It's then that all hell breaks loose. Gunfire explodes just beyond my room. A bullet slithers its way through the thick, metal door - straight into the mirror, shattering it, shattering my miserable reflection into a thousand, tiny pieces. I groan, skidding back forcefully into the stone wall.
Amma shouts out a strong of words in Russian.
I steady myself. Touching the back of my head with one hand, I somehow still manage to keep a staunch hold on the bouquet of daises. Suddenly, the door is kicked open, banging against the wall as heavily armed men in military uniform file into the room, infiltrating every corner. A cloud of powerful smoke follows behind them, seeping into my wrecked basement.
The smoke billows out and their faces become clearer. They're twice a dozen, and I don't recognize any of them. Not one face. They're not my brothers' men.
What the hell is going on? Had Fernando turned on us?
Amma sits on the floor, still blubbering something in Russian, sobbing uncontrollably.
I just stare at the space where the door previously was in a daze, trying to make sense of what exactly is going on as another set of footsteps approach. Slow, firm, not in a hurry. The minute he steps into my line of vision, I know for sure that he's the big boss.
He's got a mask on his face. He's the one I should worry about.
He's here for blood. I can feel it.
He halts just inside the room, surveys it, sizing up every soldier, every stone, every cobweb, every sand particle. And when brilliant cerulean blue eyes land on me, a weight drops in my stomach, a hundred-pound cement block.
Amma boldy stands now, tripping over her own words as she advances toward him. He looks down at her, mildly irritated, and she doesn't make it far. An echo of bullets knocks her down, splattering blood on my face and neck. She falls to the floor with a loud crash.
I swallow hard. Fuck.
I don't spare her a glance. I can't afford to. One bullet would let her live, but several?
She's dead. The worst kind of death.
The man's eyes return to mine, and they narrow. When he takes a step forward, I gulp, taking one back too, knocking the chair behind me to the floor, my heart in my mouth. My hands trembled by my sides, and blood whooshes to my ear. I'm shaking now, frightened.
I turn around to run but see a dozen pair of eyes staring back at me. The leader - the masked intruder, biggest and baddest of them all blocks the exit with his huge frame. There are no windows for me to jump out through. Besides, I'll never be that lucky. Suicide was never an option, not for my brothers. I'm important in the grand scheme of things. Way important.
But something's off. This wasn't meant to be the pattern.
Before I can decide what to do, before I can make up my mind to try to charge them, to risk a dozen bullets putting me down like they did Amma, he's got my wrist in his right hand and he's squeezing it.
I let out a choking sound, my hand falling open. The daises fall to the floor. I watch them, then watch him lift my hand to his face. His thumb comes to my ring finger where the hideous, pathetic diamond ring catches the light from the waning sun streaming in through a hole in the wall. He inspects it, and for a brief moment I wonder if he's contemplating on breaking it or not. But he twists and forces the ring off. Pocketing it, he shifts his gaze to my face again.
Something clogs my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe.
He cocks his head to the side and snarled, one hand still locked around wrist. I gasp when he spins me around all of a sudden.
What the hell is going on?
I let out a scream as he jerks me to him, his body a solid, protective wall at my back.
He releases my wrists and banded his arm beneath my breasts. With the other, he pushes the veil of my neck, out of the way, his fingers rough against my skin, fingers tugging, bruising. I fear he's going to snap my neck. One quick twist is all it'll take anyways. He's a shocking six foot eight - twice my size.
But he does the unexpected. The unexplainable.
Instead, the moment I turn my face up to his, he squeezes and instantly, my knees give out. My arms drop uselessly to my sides. He shifts his grip and as I slip, weakened, he lifts me up and hauls me over his shoulder, turning the room upside down before it all goes pitch black.
Professor Blaine is psychotic. It's there in the ruthless ways he punishes students. It's there in his eyes. In his movements. And years spent observing him has made Azira Sidorov develop a soft spot for the hot, intimidating professor. Blaine has been drawn to Azira ever since the first time he punished her in Grade nine. He loves the way her eyes lit up as his whips and spanks hit her skin. Loved the way she asked for more non-verbally too, jerking her hips backwards. Ever since that first encounter, he's been anticipating for more, but Azira is one student that seldom gets into trouble. Now in her final year, and tired of holding back, Azira is bolder and tries to reel him in by causing trouble so she could be sent to him for punishment. It's her own way of getting close to him. Her own way of making him realize that she can handle whatever depravity he's made of. But Professor Blaine is a cold-hearted beast, and he fears he might hurt Azira with his strange thrills. She should quit him before she ends up broken beyond repair. But she's too far gone. Professor Blaine is an addiction. And he is consuming her whole. NOTE: THIS IS A FOUR-BOOK SERIES: BOOK ONE: THE PROFESSOR WHO LOVES ME. BOOK TWO: THE PRINCIPAL WHO WANTS ME. BOOK THREE: THE BULLY WHO HATES ME. BOOK THREE: THE COACH WHO SAVES ME.
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?
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.
My family was on the poverty line and had no way to support me in college. I had to work part-time every day just to make ends meet and afford to get into the university. That was when I met her—the pretty girl in my class that every boy dreamt of asking out. I was well aware she was out of my league. Nevertheless, I mustered all my courage and bravely told her that I had fallen for her. To my surprise, she agreed to be my girlfriend. With the sweetest smile I had ever seen, she told me that she wanted my first gift for her to be the latest and top-of-the-line iPhone. I worked like a dog and even did my classmates’ laundry to save up. My hard work eventually paid off after a month. I finally got to buy what she wanted. But as I was wrapping my gift, I saw her in the dressing room, making out with the captain of the basketball team. She then heartlessly made fun of my inadequacy and made a fool out of me. To make things worse, the guy whom she cheated on me with even punched me in the face. Desperation washed over me, but there was nothing I could do but lie on the floor as they trampled on my feelings. But then, my father called me out of the blue, and my life turned upside down. It turned out that I was a billionaire's son.
Everyone was shocked to the bones when the news of Rupert Benton's engagement broke out. It was surprising because the lucky girl was said to be a plain Jane, who grew up in the countryside and had nothing to her name. One evening, she showed up at a banquet, stunning everyone present. "Wow, she's so beautiful!" All the men drooled, and the women got so jealous. What they didn't know was that this so-called country girl was actually an heiress to a billion-dollar empire. It wasn't long before her secrets came to light one after the other. The elites couldn't stop talking about her. "Holy smokes! So, her father is the richest man in the world?" "She's also that excellent, but mysterious designer who many people adore! Who would have guessed?" Nonetheless, people thought that Rupert didn't love her. But they were in for another surprise. Rupert released a statement, silencing all the naysayers. "I'm very much in love with my beautiful fiancee. We will be getting married soon." Two questions were on everyone's minds: "Why did she hide her identity? And why was Rupert in love with her all of a sudden?"
For two years, Ashton had poured his heart into his marriage, yet Emalee's heart remained cold. Despite his dedication, Emalee presented him with divorce papers. She bluntly stated she could not remain married to a man whose net worth was less than a million dollars. Ashton signed the papers, closing one chapter of his life and stepping into a new beginning. Then, Ashton revealed his secret identities: a music mogul, a medical expert, and a martial arts master—each persona impressive enough to stun the world. As Ashton’s true capabilities came to light, Emalee was overwhelmed with deep regret.
After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"
Eight years ago, she thought he was a Money Boy at the club, and accidentally had a one-night stand with him because she was framed by her stepsister. Is $100 enough to buy a Money Boy for one night? The next morning, she casually dropped $100 and ran away. Eight years later, she returned with her genius son. Little did she expect to be "deceived" into the Noblefull Group by her beloved son. Her immediate boss turned out to be Mr. $100 from eight years ago! ... "Bad girl, how dare you humiliate me eight years ago, this time you will pay the price!" "Bad girl, one billion dollars, I buy your whole life!" "I just want to be a secretary. You already have several lovers. You are not my type." "But, I only have feelings for you, only love you." However, their relationship was not smooth. Due to a property dispute, his brother deliberately caused a car accident in an attempt to kill her and their son. Due to past grievances of the previous generation, his father held deep hatred towards him and sent assassins to kill them. There were also plots and attempts on their lives orchestrated by his girlfriend. On top of that, they faced oppression from rival factions of the mafia... This is a romantic novel about a billionaire and his secretary, involving several generations of love, hatred, and complicated relationships, and also involving the mafia, revenge...