Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.
"We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan."
Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her.
"Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return," the man who appeared to be a butler announced, his smile radiating warmth. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!"
"Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod.
She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle.
The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car.
As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight.
Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201-arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor.
The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air.
Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night.
Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside.
A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed.
The freezing touch of a blade hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move."
Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear.
The faint, iron tang of blood lingered on the man's sleeve-a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with.
Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!"
As the voice still echoed, the knife at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper.
The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead."
His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the knife at her throat.
Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious.
Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being.
"Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay."
With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in.
At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position.
Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room.
Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view.
"Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate.
Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating.
Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up.
Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies.
As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality.
Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them.
Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange.
The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?"
One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride.
Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them?
A chilling blade pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body.
The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her.
Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, bare back.
In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side.
The subdued moans that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy.
Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!"
Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door.
With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed.
Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light.
Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his.
Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance.
Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears.
This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers.
Her lips had been refreshingly cool against his, and her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement-evidently her first kiss.
Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with allure. "Was that your first kiss?"
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?"
"Is it considered betrayal to develop feelings for your best friend's boyfriend? What about when fate intervenes, and he turns out to be your destined mate? You might think it's luck and thank the moon goddess for such a twist of fate. That's what I believed until the love of my life uttered those dreaded words: 'I want a divorce!' As I stared at the pregnancy test in my hands, I realized it was better to keep my secret to myself. My name is Violet, and this is my story."
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."