223 Book(s) Related to aria lily

At Holy Oak High, being the Top Flyer isn't just a crown.
It’s a ticket to the upper class.
Girls would pay any price to stand at the top of that pyramid.
But I didn't understand that the spotlight hid a man-eating abyss until I had to put on that blood-stained uniform.
Listen. Do you hear that scratching sound coming from inside the locker?

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

My name is Aria Vance, born with mismatched eyes.To the Silver Moon Pack, that made me a curse from the day I drew breath. Therefore, my parents threw me into the Mistwood the moment I was born.
That place exists for one reason—to hold everything the packs don't want.
Mutated wolves. Half-bloods. The maimed. Anything that didn't fit the mold got dumped there.
I was taken in by a black witch named Morwenna.
She taught me to heal, but I was fascinated by how to make a wolf's bloodline rot from the bone out, slow and quiet.
The day left, she clasped a blessed moonstone bracelet around it.
"Aria, your wolf was born bloodthirsty." She held my gaze. "Out there, don't ever let anyone see your real eyes."
For years after that, I went by "the Fir Healer," drifting from territory to territory. Heal, take payment, never linger.
I thought I'd spend the rest of my life like that.
Then the Vance family brought me back. It wasn't until the carriage that I understood—they wanted a scapegoat.
To marry me off in place of their fake heiress, Selena, to the crippled, half-mad Shadow Alpha—Cyrus.

We’ve been married for almost a month, yet my Alpha keeps hiding in the study to avoid me.
He would rather give me a cheap vial of synthetic bonding pheromones than bare his fangs at me.
I thought I was just the unwanted substitute for my runaway sister, that he felt absolutely nothing for me.
I slammed the door and left, heading to the Moon Well to confide. But the moment my blood dripped in, the Alpha's voice echoed:
"I finally married her... but I was born with a curse. How do I mark her without hurting her the moment I bite down..."

Carter and I have been together for five years. We never had actual sex.
During our most intimate moments, he would only ever slip a dark Violet Pearl deep inside of me. I honestly thought it was his way of cherishing me.
Until tonight.
I woke up totally naked to find a phone set up on the bed, its lens glaring right between my thighs, with a red "LIVE" icon blinking on the screen.
[The pearl matures Oct 31. Five years of cultivation!] the chat kept scrolling.
I checked the screen on my phone.
It’s October 30.

Since when is eating a snack before dinner a capital crime? All because of a bag of gummies, my parents beat the hell out of me, and a judge coldly sentenced me to death. I was absolutely convinced the candy was laced! It wasn't until moments before my execution that I accidentally found out the truth: my family... were never actually my family to begin with.

"Time's up, sir. That's enough."
I've said it so many times I've gone numb to it. In this brothel, I'm nothing but a body with a price tag.
Then an old man froze in the doorway, his eyes reddening. "My God... Miss Isabella, what happened to you?"
Isabella. Somewhere in my shattered memory, that name still carries a weight I can't explain.
"I'm Antonio," he wept. "Alessandro sent me to find you."
A name both familiar and foreign. Salvation—or just the door to a darker room?

At my bedside, for what felt like the hundredth time,my family asked me nervously,“Are you still planning to look for Elias?”
I blinked in confusion, asking, “Who is Elias? Why would I look for him?”
And at that moment, the doctors declared me “recovered.”
I was finally allowed to leave the psychiatric clinic that had tormented me for more than a year.
They told me—that Elias never existed, that I had fallen into delusion, loving a man created by my imagination.
I understand that only by obeying them can I regain my freedom.

I just bought my daughter a ruby choker. But the moment I fastened it around her neck, my world came crashing down.
The shopkeeper called me a sick freak. My loving husband demanded an instant divorce. My best friend called me a monster.
Why? It’s just a piece of jewelry... right?

On a stormy night, an intruder broke into the estate and slashed my husband's throat.
I didn't call the police. Instead, I grabbed the bleach and scrubbed away every trace the killer left behind.
The next morning, my mother-in-law dug her nails into my arm. "Tell them! Who murdered my son?!"
"Lady Cordelia, if you saw anything, now is the time to speak." The police captain stepped closer, his voice hard.
I met his gaze without blinking. "The thunder was loud last night. I took my sleeping pills and heard absolutely nothing."

After my divorce, I fled to the unfamiliar streets of Seattle with my daughter. As a Black single mother, the crushing weight of surviving in a strange city nearly broke me.
That is, until David came along. A detective with the Major Crimes Unit, he became our safe haven, wrapping my daughter and me in his fierce, unwavering protection.
I thought I had finally made it through the darkness. I thought I was about to embrace a brand-new life.
Until our six-month anniversary. I showed up for our date full of joyful anticipation, only to accidentally witness him tenderly kissing a pregnant white woman.
With his two young children clustered right by his side...

When the Manhattan morgue finally managed to reach my husband, Victor Hawthorne, he was in the penthouse suite, fucking another woman.
"Mr. Hawthorne, this is the city morgue. We need you to come down and identify your wife's remains."
"Identify what?" he snapped, his thrusts not missing a beat.
"Burn her," he ordered. "Don't bother me with her pathetic ploys."
He tossed the phone onto the nightstand, his focus entirely on the woman beneath him.
Then my body was pushed into the incinerator.
When I was nothing but ashes, the funeral home called him again.
Selena pouted, trailing a nail down his chest.
"Is Cecilia acting up again?"
"I'll go end this farce," Victor sneered, getting out of bed.

One month before the SATs, I saw my predicted score floating right above my head.
But every time I finished a practice test, the score automatically dropped by 20 points.
And if I skipped class to party for a day, it went up by 20 points.
In my past life, I partied for a whole month, and the score above my head reached a perfect 1600.
But when the results finally came out, I only scored a 400.
And my sister Seraphina got a 1600!
My father, Richard Vanderbilt, was absolutely furious.
My mother, Eleanor Vanderbilt, fueled the fire beside him.
She convinced my father to send me to a troubled teen boarding school.
They cut off my funds and threw me out of the mansion.
That very night, I was cornered by a group of street thugs in a dark alley and beaten to death.
As I lay dying, I heard Seraphina's voice.
"You always played the untouchable genius, Rhea. But you still got fooled by the score above your head."
That was when I finally realized the truth.
My SAT score had been completely controlled and siphoned by my sister.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to exactly one month before the exam.

It was my fourth time putting on a wedding dress.

To protect myself against my own parents, I hired a ten-man security detail.

I specifically chose the most isolated chapel in the suburbs.

Because at my first three weddings, they acted like absolute maniacs—destroying my rings and making me a complete laughingstock in front of everyone.

I just couldn't understand what kind of parents would do such a thing.

This time, I actually thought I could finally marry Liam in peace.

Until the bridal suite door was kicked open.

And my dad, once again, snatched my diamond ring away.

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my Alpha husband missed the candlelit dinner for the seventh time.
He rushed off to rescue an Omega surrounded by vampires, leaving me alone in the villa.
That same night, a jarring photo spread through the pack.
Damien, covered in blood, held Rose tightly in his arms, his lips pressed against her forehead.
Everyone was waiting for me to be jealous, to rage.
But I didn’t scream or argue like I used to.
Instead, I poured out his favorite champagne, closed my eyes calmly, and prayed to the Moon Goddess.
“You once said I have a destined mate.”
“If he will make me strong and free me from this wretched marriage, let him come for me in seven days.”

As the tyrant ruling the underworld, Victor was ruthless and bloodthirsty, showing no mercy to anyone.

Women who tried to climb into his bed usually didn’t even get a whole corpse, yet I was the only one he kept by his side.

I’d taken a poisoned bullet for him, and nearly bled to death on the rotting floor of a safe house giving birth to his son.

He once kissed the bullet scar on my shoulder and promised me that when he sat on the godfather’s throne, I would be his only family matriarch.

But the moment he slipped on that black onyx ring symbolizing power, he carried another woman into the master bedroom of the manor.

I burst for the door, and he ordered his bodyguards to pin me outside, forcing me to listen to their sounds of passion all night long.

I banged on the door like a madwoman, so he slammed my paintbrush-wielding right hand in the heavy oak doorframe and crushed it mercilessly.

I finally caved when he threatened to cut off my mother’s hospital treatment.

On the second floor of this old Victorian house is a long hallway with a dark red rug. Six doors are evenly spaced along its walls.
We lived here peacefully for ten years.
Until last month, when my seven-year-old sister, Maeve, suddenly refused to set foot in it.
The adults dismissed it as a childish phobia.
Until late one night, hiding under the covers, she pressed her face to my ear and whispered:
"Don't count the doors."

My husband, Victor Falcone, was a mafia godfather whose very name makes the entire underworld tremble.
A year ago, he barely survived an assassination attempt. The trauma gave him severe amnesia, completely wiping out the three months we spent keeping each other alive in the slums.
When he woke up, he was a different man—cold and ruthless. He treated my stepsister like his untouchable first love, spoiling her rotten.
And me, his legal wife? In his eyes, I was just a greedy, desperate woman who wouldn't take a hint.
"Drop the cheap pity act," he’d sneer. "You’re not worth a single hair on Lilia’s head."
Even so, I chose to stay by his side, desperate to spark his memory.
Until today. A rival cartel tied me and his precious "angel" to iron pillars on an abandoned pier.
Beneath our feet is a raging, pitch-black ocean. A thug has the ice-cold barrel of a gun pressed hard against my temple.
Which one of us will he choose?

On National College Decision Day, my two childhood best friends announced they were ditching the Ivy League to follow a scheming charity case to a garbage community college.
In my last life, I informed their parents.
It worked. Their futures were saved, but they killed me for it.
"Let go of me!"
Hayes had my wrist in a death grip, dragging me toward the edge. Ezra stood behind him, hands in his pockets.
"If you hadn't interfered, Willow would still be alive."
"Now it's your turn."
Then I was falling from the stadium bleachers.
I opened my eyes. Decision Day again.

"Camille! Get over here!" my husband Arthur screamed, clutching his mistress tightly in his arms.
In my past life, he charged into the flames to save her—while I burned alive trying to save him.
The moment I died, he wasted no time using my life insurance money to throw her the wedding of the century, right at my family's winery.
This life?
"I'm going to get help," I said, and walked away.
Behind me, something massive came crashing down. His scream tore through the smoke.
I didn't look back.

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

I am the most obedient lover by the side of Liam, the Alpha of the Blackwood Tribe.
I am also the only nameless stray in the entire tribe.
For five years, whenever Liam spent the night with other she-wolves, the next morning I would receive a large check or a deed to a house.
People in the tribe say I am a greedy leech.
That for money, I have thrown away the pride of a werewolf.
Even if Liam kissed another woman right in front of me, I would smile, straighten his collar, and then take the money he gave me.
Yes, I love money very much.
If they knew that this money was enough to buy the territories of three small packs, they would probably be green with envy.
As long as the money is good, betrayal doesn’t hurt that much.
Until today, when Liam brought back a pure-blooded white she-wolf.
He handed me a blank check, saying this would be the last payment he gave me.
My wolf spirit roared inside me.
It’s time for me to take the money, disappear, and return to being the queen I truly am.

My sister ran away the night before her wedding, so I had to take her place and marry Damian Kovac, the city's most feared don.
I figured he'd throw me in the harbor out of pure rage. Instead, the man wouldn't even touch me.
A month in, still sleeping in the guest room.
I wasn't my sister's level of charming, but I wasn't hard to look at either. And this man couldn't spare me a single glance?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I grabbed the divorce papers I'd already drawn up and stormed toward his study.
Right as I raised my hand to knock, I caught his childhood friend's voice through the door.
"You moved heaven and earth to get the woman you've been hung up on, and now you're icing her out? Didn't think I'd live to see the day."
My hand froze.
The woman he'd been hung up on?

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

This was Killian’s tenth time bringing a stray werewolf into our bedroom.
I didn’t growl like before, nor did I threaten her.
I picked up the old cloak from the floor and handed it to the girl trembling in the corner.
“Leave through the back door. The patrol just passed.”
The girl glanced at me fearfully, grabbed the cloak, and ran out.
Killian leaned against the headboard.
Bare-chested, a cigar in hand, his expression was full of arrogance.
“She’s just a newly matured stray werewolf. Don’t scare her.”
“Elira, you come from noble blood. You wouldn’t make a fuss about this.”
“Tonight is her first transformation. I need to be with her. I won’t be back.”
I lowered my head, hiding my golden eyes.
What Killian didn’t know was—
that stray girl was carrying the highly contagious and fatal Rotting Sickness.

When the pain started, my mother-in-law called me a monster, then drove off like a madwoman. My doctor slit his own throat in front of me. My husband locked me away "for my safety."
I thought they didn't want my baby. That they were horrified by the child I carried.
But I was wrong.
The thing growing inside me was never my child at all.

I was diagnosed with hemophilia when I was ten years old.
At first, my parents were terrified. They watched me closely, rushed me to the hospital over every bruise, every nosebleed. I was the fragile one—the child who needed saving.

Then years passed.
They got used to it.
They got tired.

By the time my twin sister was graduating and my family was finally breathing again, I was about to turn eighteen.
And that night, while everyone believed I’d be fine like always, I bled to death.

They call it an "alpha team," boasting about our million-dollar AI equipment. I thought I just had terrible luck at work—the scanner bruising my arm, the coffee maker intentionally scalding me. Trapped by a $500,000 resignation penalty, I must survive tonight’s overtime. But in the dark copy room, the shredder is... breathing.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

Since marrying into the Sterling family, I've been pregnant three times. Not one of them survived.

Every time the DNA test report arrived, my mother-in-law would drag me to the clinic for an abortion.

They said the fetus had genetic defects. But I secretly went to an outside hospital for tests, and the report clearly stated everything was normal.

After my third miscarriage, I followed my in-laws to the basement I was forbidden to enter.

I held my breath and pressed my eye to the crack in the door.

In that moment, I finally knew why they had to kill my babies.

At my boyfriend's exhibition party, I went into anaphylactic shock after eating the cake Mia handed me.
I stumbled, reaching for my EpiPen, only for Mia to snatch it out of my hand and crush it under her heel.
"Give... it back..." I choked out, grabbing onto my boyfriend's arm.
He just shook me off, disgusted. "Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, Mia's basically family," one of his friends chimed in. "You're being way too jealous and controlling."
Nobody was listening to me anymore.
With the last of my strength, I pressed down on the hidden button on the side of my watch — the one I'd never had to use before.

They wanted a real daughter, so they traded me for her.
On the engagement day, my fiancé slipped a ring on her finger. My parents handed me a train ticket to oblivion.
They celebrated their victory while I disappeared.
What they didn't realize was that letting me go was the worst mistake of their lives.
I am the surgical prodigy saving lives that science deems hopeless. I am the muse of the art world. I am the true heir to a dynasty they couldn't even dream of.
Now, I am back.
Not as the girl they abandoned, but as the storm they prayed would never come.
My ex-fiancé kneels in regret. My fake sister chokes on her jealousy. And the CEO who once looked through me? He is now crawling, desperate to taste the success he once threw away.
The joke isn't on me.
It's on them.

At the press conference celebrating his miraculous recovery, my husband announced—right in front of cameras—that he wanted a divorce.
He chose today. The day he finally woke up after three years in a coma. The day my younger sister returned to the country.
I walked away from everything and decided to return to the field that had once been mine.
But someone please tell me—why does my ex-husband keep showing up everywhere I go, like a ghost that refuses to let go?

BLURB: Grace Bennet swore she'd left her sins behind. Now she's back at Raven’s End, vowing to live quietly, no temptation, no lies, no blood.
But the town remembers her and the perils of her beauty. The sheriff can't stop watching her. Her stepbrother can't stop threatening her. Jeremy can't stop himself from wanting her.
Every man she touches falls apart. Every sin she hides pulls her closer to the edge. And when the lake starts calling her name again, She realises that her past isn't buried, it's so alive.

She gave everything to a man who never wanted her—now, she’s taking back her life.

For three years, she lived in the shadow of a loveless marriage. She was the woman everyone loved to hate, the one who supposedly "stole" him from his first love. She endured his cold indifference, raised their son—who struggles with a speech impediment—in silence, and traded her own brilliant career for the thankless role of a trophy wife.

But when his long-lost love returns, she is unceremoniously pushed aside to make room for the "real" family.

Enough was enough.

After he publicly humiliates her and chooses the mistress’s daughter over his own son during a birthday party, something inside her finally snaps. She doesn't just want out of the marriage; she wants her life back. With a secret talent for design and a newfound resolve, she walks away from the gilded cage of his estate.

But as she rises from the ashes of her failed marriage to reclaim her status as a top-tier designer, he realizes the woman he treated as a disposable pawn was the only one who truly held his world together.

Now, the woman who once begged for his attention is no longer looking back. Will he be able to earn her forgiveness, or is he finally too late?

By day, Nora Ellis is the efficient, sharp-tongued secretary to the elusive billionaire, David Reid. By night, she becomes Mistress Scarlet – the masked dominatrix who commands The Red Room.

Her two lives never touch.
Until the night her boss walks into her world as a new client.

David's no stranger to control: by day, he's the ruthless CEO with a hidden mafia empire; by night, he's her most demanding client, unaware the masked submissive he craves is the woman who knows his every secret. What starts as forbidden pleasure turns into a dangerous obsession, one that blurs the lines between power, pain, and love.

As enemies close in and Nora’s past resurfaces, she must decide which part of herself to save… the woman he commands, or the woman who could destroy him.

Trigger Warning: This story contains explicit BDSM scenes (including dominance/submission dynamics, impact play, restraint, and sensory deprivation), graphic depictions of gun violence and murder, kidnapping attempts, mafia-related threats and organized crime elements, alcohol use, and themes of secrecy, betrayal, and emotional manipulation. Reader discretion is advised – safe, sane, and consensual practices are emphasized, but content may be intense for some.

Five years of marriage, and she was nothing but another woman's understudy.
Anniversaries. School events. Galas. In every public moment, it was always the other woman standing beside her husband and children—the perfect wife for all to see.
She only belonged to this family in the shadows, where no one was watching.
This marriage was beyond saving.
When fate extended its hand once more, she seized it and dragged herself out of the mud.
Only then did the man she left behind finally see what he had lost.
But an eagle soaring across the open sky—would she ever bow her head again?

Rated🔞 🔞 🔞

“Fuck me,” I mutter, “or kill me. We both know you have to choose.”
He snarls as he wraps his hands around my waist.
“Have you ever been fucked, Lucia Reid?”
It's the first time he's said my real name, and it sends heat sparking between my thighs.
“Of course I’ve had sex.”
He leans in until his mouth is against my cheek and whispers, “That’s not what I asked.”
My toes curl in my expensive heels, my hips rolling against him, and his mouth slants over mine roughly, his hands pushing the material of my dress until it pools at the tops of my thighs.
He pushes into me then until I feel his cock pressing hard against my clothed sex.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, princess,” his mouth is at my ear, “Hard enough for you to forget about all about the Reids and Ardens and everything else that doesn’t matter. I’ll make you forget about every cocky rich boy who ever smiled at you, the ones who couldn’t handle you, and I’ll make you come so hard that by the time I'm done... you’ll have to name me king.”

After years of marriage, my husband and son never once treated me like I mattered.
In their eyes, there was only another woman.
When I heard them talking about abandoning me again, I finally hit my limit.
So I asked for a divorce.
From that day on, I lived for myself—and myself alone.

The day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my husband was still thrusting into me, emptying himself with a roar.
The moment he finished, I opened my mouth to tell him I had three months to live.
He cut me off.
'Lindsey's back. Let's get a divorce.'
My heart died in that instant.

When she called her husband to tell him their son was dead, all she heard on the other end was laughter—him, his mistress, and their child, living like a happy little family.
Her heart turned to ash.
Terminally ill or not, she would find whoever killed her son.
But her husband didn't believe her. Her own family turned against her. They were all protecting the killer.
She was locked away. Threatened. Kidnapped.
When the truth finally clawed its way to the surface, they came crawling back with apologies.
But did it even matter anymore?

My husband cut my unborn child from my womb right in front of his mistress—and fed the baby to a leopard.
I screamed until my voice broke. No one came.
I clutched a stranger's severed head, my soul shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.
Accused of adultery. Branded the mother of an illegitimate child. They even carved out my kidney—while I was still breathing—to transplant into his mistress.
My life had reached its end. And no one mourned.
Then the wheels of fate turned backward, and I woke up on the day of our engagement.
My hands were trembling. My heart was whole. And I remembered everything.
I looked out at the expectant faces of our guests—and at the man who would become my husband. The man who would destroy me.
He smiled at me, waiting.
And I said: No. I don't.

Avery lost everything the day her father betrayed the Silver-Ridge Pack.
Branded a traitor. Blamed for her sister's death. Sold to the very Alpha her father once betrayed.
Lucian Draveth is blind. Merciless. A monster whispered about in fear. A man who sees Avery as nothing more than a property.
But Avery refuses to submit.
"You want a chance, Avery? Fine. Let's play a game." His voice is calm.
"The main gate is half a mile through the forest. If you reach it and pass through before I lay a hand on you… you are free."
My breath hitches. "And if you catch me?"
"Then you stop fighting and come back. Run."
Five minutes. Half a mile. One blind Alpha hunting her through the dark.
Avery runs. Not because she believes she'll win but because she refuses to break.
The closer Avery gets to freedom, the more she realizes something is wrong. Lucian is hiding something far worse than cruelty.
And when Avery learns why he refuses to let her go, revenge stops being enough.
In a world where the Moon Goddess chooses mates, Avery must decide: destroy the monster or survive loving one.
Warning: Mature content. Dark romance themes.

BLURB:18+ Explicit Content Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Content Warnings:This collection contains graphic s****l content, dubcon, age-gap, taboo relationships, religious roleplay, rough scenes, morally gray characters, and explicit adult language. If you're sensitive to dark, controversial, or boundary-pushing themes, this is not the book for you.Some cravings are whispered in secret.
Others are too twisted, too forbidden, to ever say out loud.Until now.Sinful Fantasies is a collection of sinful, unapologetic erotic tales where the rules don't apply and the boundaries are meant to be broken.
Step into a world where the lines between right and wrong blur in the heat of passion.
From priests who can't stay celibate to stepdads who can't say no, each story is a slow fall into deliciously dark temptation. They're off-limits, They're wrong, And they're exactly what you've been aching for. Indulge the fantasies you’re not supposed to have.


"You like that, don't you?" he said, his voice low and rough. His lips hovered right at my neck.
"Kiss me, Cole," I begged, my head sinking back into the seat. "I…"
He leaned in just a little, his lips close enough for me to taste his breath, but then he stopped.
"Not now, Mia," he said with that smug voice.
His hand trailed lower, gliding over my belly, fingers slipping under the waistband of my trousers. He didn't even hesitate—his fingers dipped lower, brushing over the wetness soaking through my panties.
"Damn," he groaned in my ear. "You're fucking soaked."

"You want my forgiveness?" he asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous timbre.

Before I could answer, he moved closer, suddenly looming over me, his face inches from mine. I felt my breath caught, my lips parting in surprise.

"Then this is the price for speaking ill of me to others," he murmured, nipping my lower lip before claiming my mouth in a real kiss. It began as punishment but quickly transformed into something else entirely as I responded, my initial rigidity melting into compliance, then active participation.

My breathing accelerated, small sounds escaping my throat as he explored my body. His touches were both punishment and pleasure, drawing shudders from me that I thought he felt reverberating through his own body.

My nightgown had ridden up, his hands discovering more of mine with each caress. We were both lost in sensation, rational thought receding with each passing second...

Three years ago, to fulfill the wish of his grandmother, I was forced to marry Derek Wells, the second son of the family that had adopted me for ten years. He didn't love me, but I had secretly loved him all along.

Now, the three-year contractual marriage is about to end, but I feel that some kind of sentiment has developed between Derek and me that neither of us is willing to admit. I'm not sure if my feelings are right, but I know that we can't resist each other physically...

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK IS STRICTLY EROTICA. IT CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY DISTURBED BY MATURE THEMES.


"Oh…" I moaned before I could stop it.
"Sorry…" I whispered steadying myself, but what he said next knocked the breath from me.
"I'm sorry, Sienna. I couldn't hold it anymore." He grabbed me and lifted me onto the nearest freezer. His lips crashed into mine, hot and hungry. My stomach twisted with excitement.
I moaned into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair. Our tongues moved fast, like we were devouring each. I lifted my hips from the freezer, rubbing my soaked pussy against his hard groin. My jumpsuit clung to my body, thin enough to feel everything.
"Sienna…" he groaned. "Please… touch me," I whispered against his mouth.


One night, one forbidden taste. She sucked off a stranger in a dark club, recklessly. What she didn't know? He was her fiancé's father. What he didn't know?
She was his future daughter-in-law. But then they met again, in daylight, around family.
The fire was still there, burning hotter than ever, even though everything around them said "NO" to continue. He knew he was off-limits. She knew she should have run. But when lust turned into obsession, could either of them stop before it destroyed them all?

Vanessa could not further her education after graduating high school as a result of her late father's illness. She has been fired from her former job and hence, seeks for a job as a cleaner in a big company.
But halfway to the venue, she is almost killed and later saves a little girl. Who knew that this would send her into the bad hands of her CEO daddy.
He tricks her into babysitting his girl. After magical mysterious secrets are unraveled and misunderstandings cleared up, love glues them together forever.

"Kneel down, open your mouth," I stood in front of Evan, looking into his misty eyes.

Next thing I knew, his soft lips enveloped my cock and began to suck.

I groan, hips jerking forward before I can stop them. His tongue is relentless—pressing, swirling, dragging along the underside while his throat tightens around me in perfect, obscene pulses. Water drips from his lashes onto my cock, mixing with the precum already leaking.

“Fuck—” I rasp, voice cracking. “Deeper. Take it all.”

Eric is an untamable CEO, perpetually trapped in the shadow of his late elder brother. Burdened by family expectations, he can never bring himself to show his true self in front of his family.

Evan is a resilient, self‑reliant ordinary young man who would sacrifice anything for his sick younger sister. For twenty‑three years, he has firmly believed he is straight.

Everything shifts after a sex transactional encounter draws the two men together. Eric finds himself incapable of desiring anyone else ever again. For Evan, desire only stirs within him when his thoughts drift back to Eric. As the line between cold transaction and burning longing blurs beyond recognition, will they finally be able to see each other’s true hearts beneath all the chaos?