"❝Fucking hell, Angel. Please, continue riding me like this. It feels so good. Please❞ he moans to me, letting his mouth open wide to show his own pleasure. I won't stop. I lean over his body and let my palm press onto his mouth, letting my four fingers grab one side of his face as my thumb grabs the other. I can never get tired of him talking no matter the occasion, but right now, this will go exactly as I want. "I don't remember giving you permission to talk, or touch my breasts." He exhales his pleasure as he pulls his hands beside his head submissively. His lips move, and his voice begins to rumble against my hand. I pull it away for a moment. "P-please. I love them." he moans. I raise an eyebrow, slowing down the movement of my hips to torture him. "What do you love?" I ask him, teasing the words out of him. It's no secret, but I'd rather him broadcast it on his shirt than only tell me once. I keep myself steady, not wanting to reach another orgasm myself. "Your breasts." he admits. "You love...?" I ask. "You." He moans, telling me what I want to hear. → Having to deal with the trauma of losing a parent, the Inferno goes about life taking what he pleases and not caring for the feelings of others. When secrets are revealed, so is his true self. His persona is at stake when he indulges in a forbidden romance with someone he's known to be family all of his life. The inferno. Lucifer on Earth."
Vivica
At first, I didn't notice him. He was breathtaking, of course, and had the face of someone who was sculpted by God's most precious Angels. Cheek hollow, grey spiralling eyes, knife-sharp jawline, and thick, beautiful eyelashes made me wish I could have even just a small ounce of what he has.
If it weren't for my God-awful sobbing, my moans of pain, and my absolutely wrenching heart, I would have noticed him a few seconds before. He always had loud feet, it was something I remembered from when I was a kid. He was so clumsy, and he's passed it on to me.
The pain that overwhelmed me that night was something I had never thought I'd go through ever in my life. The loss of a loved one was hard, although he wasn't dead just yet. My ex-boyfriend, Daniel, had broken up with me after a complete year of being in my life. Some would say it was for the good, but I'd argue differently. He was so cold in those last moments, which ultimately hurt me the most. I hadn't cared too much about him thinking that we needed space, but his words and actions made me feel as if my entire life were the biggest facade.
It's hard being a man with someone like you. I have needs, and obviously, the person who's supposed to fulfil them isn't fulfilling them even after this long.
His harsh tone threw a dagger right into my heart. He wrapped his hand around the grip and made sure to twist it. I thought I'd spend the rest of my days with him. We had our lives planned together.
Although his grey eyes had swarmed me like a bunch of angry bees, I tried to conceal the fact that my mascara was running down my cheeks due to the thick tears that brimmed my eyes.
I inhaled, trying my hardest to fight asphyxiation as I held in a sob that fought its hardest to release from my body. My throat began to close, which ultimately led me to just let it out. I was utterly embarrassed at the fact that he had caught me crying, even though I'm sure he heard me from the other guest bedroom.
Swiping my hand across my face to collect the smearing mascara, I couldn't fathom looking at him again. I knew that those grey eyes would call me out on my shit and probably make a joke about it. So I looked down at the sad tub of molten ice cream sitting between my legs. The chunks of Oreo were drowning inside of what is now milk.
He made no sudden move, probably staring me down. I made no sudden move, wishing that I could just die. The tension was too awkward, why was he the one to catch me crying? Why did my father drag me to this stupid annual trip with his good friend, Oliva? And did it just have to be the same day as my graduation?
I swallowed down the dryness in my throat as I heard his feet begin to move. Then, the refrigerator opened before snapping closed again. He was shaking something, a liquid, as he walked closer to me.
Wait, to me? He never even talked to me his entire life.
My eyes blink repeatedly as my mind tries to process what's happening at this very moment. I lift my head, letting my eyes fall lax against him for the first time all night. He's wearing only dark pyjama pants that hang low on his waist. He's naked on the chest, with only a few numbers in Roman numerals under his right peck. There is a single silver necklace wrapped around his neck that should be engraved onto his skin by how long he's had it.
He is scowling already, ready to chew me up and spit me out for probably interrupting his beauty sleep. I'm sure a guy like him gets all that he can.
He steadily walks to me and stops right beside the brown centrepiece between the couch I'm sitting against and the sixty-five-inch television mounted against the wall.
I can't help but stare, my eyes wide. He tilts his head, letting his brown curly hair topple over. Small laughter erupts from his chest as he looks at me before calming himself quickly and returning to his hollowing cheeks. I've never seen him smile before.
"I was going to ask if someone was dying in here but clearly it's you" he shakes his head, eyeing the pathetic person across from him.
He makes me feel even worse than he did that time I fell into the pool at his father's old home. I didn't know how to swim and it took someone at least thirty seconds to realize it. Safe to say I learned how to swim shortly after that.
I look away from him, tilting my head downwards and looking at the sad tub of molten ice cream again. The Oreos have started to sink and it's even more sad. Tears brim my eyes again.
I reach my hand up, taking my silver spoon and swirling the ice cream in the tub. It's so soupy now. It's no good.
His presence in front of me still swamps me. He's made fun of me already and is now staring at me. I sniffle, thinking of Daniel again. He should have waited longer
"Your mascara is a mess, you know," he says, making me sob once again. It's almost as if this is his goal. He wants to see me cry. He wants to see my mascara smear down my cheeks, tears ruining my eyes. My bodily fluids threaten my nose but I've embarrassed myself enough, so I make sure to hold it in.
I swipe my hand across my face again, clearing up the excess tears. For some reason, I can not stop the tears from blurring my vision.
"And your ice cream isn't ice cream anymore. You've ruined it. I was going to eat some tomorrow morning" he says, his voice in a fixed grouch like always. His voice alone was something that could make tears brim my eyes any day, but now he filled me with both sadness and anger.
Of course, he'd like ice cream for breakfast.
I want to throw the tub at his head. But then he'd catch me and make me pay for literally everything I've ever done to him so no, I think I'll pass. Hard pass.
"Sad ice cream soup," he remarked.
I sigh, bringing my eyes to look at him. "Please just shut up. You don't need any ice cream anyways, I heard you're lactose intolerant" I sob, taking the top of the tub of ice cream.
He shakes his head. "That would be Oliva, not me. I'd say I'm very tolerant" he tells me.
I roll my eyes, adjusting the top over the tub. "Yeah, with a gun to your head" I mumble, removing the tub from between my legs and reaching over to sit it on the edge of the centrepiece.
"Well I wish I had one now to put you out of your misery" his crude remark causes my eyebrows to knit together. Why am I even listening to him? I remove the cover from my legs and fold it in half before letting it lay against the back edge of the couch. Quickly, I turn to head back into the guest bedroom, but with his hand around my arm, I can move no more.
"Never in a million years did I think I'd be standing in the middle of a supermarket, awkwardly holding a box of condoms-for my boss's son, no less!" Emily Lane landed the job of her dreams straight out of high school, becoming the personal assistant to one of the most powerful businessmen in the world. But she hadn't anticipated the bonus package that came with the role-his son, Shawn Cole. Shawn is the definition of trouble: charming, flirty, and way too good-looking for his own good. For three years, Emily has dodged his playful advances, mastering the art of keeping him in line while secretly enjoying their banter. Their dynamic is harmless, just two people trading quick wit and stolen laughs. But lately, something has shifted. The teasing lingers a little longer, the glances feel a little more loaded, and Emily is starting to wonder if Shawn's just playing-or if her own heart is starting to betray her. When the line between playful friendship and something much deeper begins to blur, Emily realizes she might be in over her head
Warning: Sexually explicit with lots of kinks and smut. The use of violent language is also included. "Hold me like the strings of your guitar and squeeze my breast like you're holding a note" Austin Sharpe, the lead singer of the pop-rock sensation Planet Orange, is hurtling toward self-destruction. The aftermath of a breakup with the woman he believed to be his true love has set him on a perilous course. Acquiring a reputation as one of Los Angeles' most notorious bad boys, his actions are jeopardizing the future of his successful career. Despite the concern of his family and bandmates, no one seems capable of steering him away from this destructive path. Enter Clara Peterson, an LA newcomer originally from Lynchville, Virginia. Aspiring for a life beyond the simplicity embraced by those in her hometown, she seizes a remarkable opportunity when a major record label takes notice of her. The only hitch? She must embark on a tour with Austin Sharpe, the pop-rock star infamous for his unsavory behavior and bad attitude. However, could there be more to Austin than meets the eye? Perhaps LA's most notorious bad boy isn't as bad as his reputation suggests.
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"
Marriage was a bed of thorns for Stella. She lived like an overworked and unhappy slave for six years in her matrimonial home. One day, her uncaring husband, Waylon said to her, "Ayla will be back soon. You have to move out tomorrow." "I want a divorce," responded Stella. She left without shedding a tear or trying to change Waylon's stone-cold heart. Days after their divorce, they met again. Stella was in the arms of another man. Waylon's blood boiled at the sight of her looking so happy. "So, you couldn't even wait a while before jumping into another man's arms?" he queried distastefully. "And who are you to question my decision? It's my life, so I call the shots. Stay out of my business!" Stella fired at him before turning to look at her new man with shiny eyes. Waylon immediately lost it.
Desperate to handle her grandmother's towering medical bills, Gianna agreed to a contract marriage with Tristan, the enigmatic man she'd once shared a one-night stand with. She assumed they'd fulfill each other's needs and dissolve the arrangement once the terms expired. Unbeknownst to Gianna, this marriage was a dream Tristan had clung to for ten relentless years. Certain she was just filling someone else's role, Gianna prepared to leave when that other woman returned. But Tristan, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion, seized her trembling hand and declared, "You’re mine. Now and always."
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all—from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn’t return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel’s terminal illness and realized she didn’t have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
Madison had always believed that she would marry Colten. She spent her youth admiring him from afar, dreaming of their future life together. But Colten was always indifferent to her, and when he abandoned her at a time when she needed him most, she finally realized that he never loved her. With renewed resolve and a thirst for revenge, Madison left. Endless possibilities lay ahead, but Colten was no longer part of her plans. Colten rushed to her place in a panic. "Madison, please come back to me. I’ll give you everything!" It was his powerful uncle who answered the door. "She's my woman now."