184 Book(s) Related to loren jay

Innocent, beautiful but heartbroken Celine Fayet is out for revenge. Unable to find peace until her parent's death is avenged, she chooses one wickedly enticing option to get the money she so desperately needs; marry Damien Culhane, sexy multi-millionaire.

Except that Damien, drop dead gorgeous with his panty dropping smile, has no plans of getting married. Content with his playboy ways, he cruises among the elites, leaving a trail of aching hearts wherever he goes. Until he meets stunning Celine who makes him want to have a rethink.

In a clash of stunning attraction, these two begin to play wicked sensual games and even as Celine knows that the deal between them is businesslike, she finds herself falling head over heels for Damien.

But when she discovers a deadly secret, something that makes her choose between vengeance and Damien, devastated Celine is stuck between her head and her heart. Who should her loyalty lie with? Damien? Or her dead parents?

A thrilling tale of love, lust and revenge.

He let his hand squeeze her breast gently through the gown she wore, then he applied a little bit of force. He heard her make a whimpering sound into his mouth and he swallowed it up. He released her hands and pushed her to himself with his hand while caressing her breast.


His unwilling slave…

Fiery and innocent, Lady Roksolana was once the esteemed and privileged daughter of the sultanate king. Until she was captured by the enemy, the all powerful and devilishly charming Sultan, Sheikh Jamal Aamil.

The ruthless king…

Worshipped as a god by his people, sinfully hot Jamal takes ahold of Roksolana during an attack and back to his palace. Drawn to her exotic beauty, he tries to bends her to his seductive whims. Except that Roksolana refuses to suppress her bold spirit for any man, especially such an arrogant one like Jamal, who sees her as nothing but his possession, a jewel in his harem and a slave to slake his pleasure on.

Bound together by desire…

Soon, Roksolana finds herself succumbing to his sensual touches and in the process falls in love with him. But with another danger in the air, enemies scheming wicked plots and his favorite mistress raging with jealousy, will these two be able to find love in the midst of all the chaos?

A thrilling tale of love, lust and desire.

Synopsis
For twenty-six-year-old Clara Voss, life has always been about order....
Studying Books, silence, and duty, that’s all she’s ever known. Between running the town library and caring for her crippled father, she’s had no room for chaos, risk, or desire.
But when her father’s health begins to fail, desperation forces Clara to search for money in places she never imagined. An innocent job listing seems like a miracle: the government is hiring civilian volunteers for Saint Ridge Penitentiary, the most secure prison in the country; home to the worst of the worst. The pay is absurd. The contract is long. And Clara signs it without reading a single word.
By the time she realizes her mistake, it’s too late.
She and her best friend are sealed inside Saint Ridge, surrounded by killers, con-men, and corrupt power. Yet nothing unnerves her more than Hale Maddox 'inmate 0147' the one they call the Master of Ridge. His name is whispered by guards, feared by inmates, and marked in red on every classified file.

But Hale isn’t interested in escape.
He’s interested in her.
Trapped behind concrete walls and government secrets, Clara learns that danger doesn’t always hide in the shadows. Sometimes it watches you, memorizes you and waits for the perfect moment to claim you.

"Joanna, you can't escape!" Sebastian roars, gripping my wrist and yanking me against his chest. His lips crush mine—raw and searing—stealing the air from my lungs. I fight him, but my body betrays me, trapped between shame and a hunger I can't explain. Through tears, I whisper, "Am I just Elodie's ghost to you? Or something you own?" His eyes darken, silencing me with a kiss that leaves me hating myself for wanting more.

I'm Joanna Bennett, struggling to pay my mother's medical bills when Sebastian King stormed into my life because I resemble his dead girlfriend. He rules his empire with ruthless control, treating me like a pawn. At night, I hear him call her name, his voice breaking in ways it never does with me.

My brother Daniel watches with quiet rage, while Sebastian's enigmatic brother Zayne’s sudden interest feels far from innocent. Soon, I uncover shocking lies about my own past that threaten everything.

When Sebastian announces his engagement, I shatter—then he drags me to mansion, locking the door, reminding me what’ll happen to my mother’s care if I leave.

His fiancée Ava cuts me down with cruel jabs. Then Daniel’s journal reveals a forbidden love that broke him, destroying us both.

Until Sebastian finds me at our lakeside, dropping to his knees: “I was wrong.”

Can I forgive him—or myself if I do?

I, Alpha Devon, reject you as my mate.” You will never be good enough for me. You’re nothing—absolutely nothing—but a piece of trash that will be left for the dogs to feast on.

Elena, a werewolf who hasn’t wolfed out yet, was mistreated and maltreated by her own pack and family, and worse, her sister despised and hated her for no reason at all.

She gets even more dissatisfied with her life when the Alpha of a Great Pack rejects her as his mate and accepts her sister instead. His reason? She wasn’t up to his standard, and he wouldn’t want to associate with a low life.

What happens when the moon goddess gives her a new mate, a far more dreaded and wealthy one, mocking all those who despised, abandoned, and rejected her?

The story takes another twist as Elena doesn’t accept or recognise him as her mate. She was too broken to even see or understand that her mate was right in front of her.

Will he be able to love Elena as expected and bring her out of the misery she has accepted as her reality? Or will he further make her life more miserable than her previous mate?

“Don’t go. Do as he says,” grandmother said. Suzanne blinked and looked into her grandmother’s face.

“Grandmama?”

Grandmother’s eyes were no longer glazed, and she had spoken with such clarity when usually, her speech was slurred. At that very moment, Suzanne had no doubt that her grandmother’s mind was crystal clear.

Grandmother held onto Suzanne’s hand and gently pried open her palm, revealing the black mark. Grandmother’s eyes narrowed as she traced her bony finger on Suzanne’s palm before staring back at Suzanne.

“This,” she pointed at Suzanne’s palm, “This is the mark of the beast.”

My name is Shannica. I was abandoned... But I remarried. And I met this six-year-old child, Xenon, the young Chairman's son and the arrogant heir of Lincoln Family who I didn't expect that I would grow fond of. And as soon as I step inside their mansion, I have found my purpose in life and decided on one thing; 'I would protect this child and love him as my own.'

Though it all started with a loveless marriage between me and his father... We became a family and I started loving not just the kid, but also the young Chairman, Xander Lincoln, who longed for his dead wife up until now.

Will I be able to stay on their side for a long time? When will Xander open his heart and see me as his wife? Will I just remain as the billionaire's remarriage contract wife or our love will grow and turn into reality?

When Maya Chen moved to the quiet beach town of Millbrook Bay, she thought she was getting away to peace. But 48 hours after she opens her private detective business, she finds a dead teenager on the beach and learns that this quiet town hides some very dangerous secrets. When people in the area tell her to stop digging and strange things start to happen, Maya has to use all of her detective skills to find out what's going on. But as she digs deeper, she finds that Millbrook Bay is linked to her past in ways she never thought possible.

When tenacious journalist Vivienne Thorne infiltrates a secretive gathering to investigate a string of disappearances, she never expects to be captured by Damien Blackthorn—the enigmatic CEO of Blackthorn Industries who harbors a deadly secret: he's a vampire lord whose powers are mysteriously waning.
Instead of killing her, Damien makes Vivienne an impossible offer: marry him in a binding blood contract to help him keep control over his territory, or watch as everyone she loves becomes collateral damage in a brewing vampire civil war.
As their reluctant alliance evolves into dangerous attraction, Vivienne learns her mysterious blood disorder is actually proof of a heritage she never knew existed—one that makes her both invaluable and deadly to the vampire world. When her apparently dead father reappears as a vampire hunter determined to destroy Damien, Vivienne must choose between the family ties she's always longed for and the forbidden bond forming with a man she should consider her enemy.
But in Shadowveil, nothing is as it seems. As ancient conspiracies surface and enemies emerge from within their closest friends, Damien and Vivienne find themselves pawns in a game centuries in the making. Their blood bond may be their best weapon—or the catalyst that awakens an ancient darkness threatening to consume them both.

Adrian Cole was never supposed to get married—especially not to Rowan Hale, the most insufferable actor in the industry.

But when his sister runs away on her wedding day, Adrian is forced to take her place… and signs a contract he can’t escape.

Now he’s legally bound to his rival.

His enemy.

The one man who looks at him like he’s already won.

As if that wasn’t enough—

they’re cast as lovers in the same high-budget film:

“Crimson Oath.”



“You and I are playing lovers,” Rowan said calmly.

Adrian let out a short laugh. “I’d rather quit.”

Rowan stepped closer.

Too close.

“Then quit,” he said softly. “And watch your career disappear.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “You think you can control everything?”

Rowan’s lips curved faintly.

“Not everything,” he said.

His hand lifted—tilting Adrian’s chin just enough to force eye contact.

“Just you.”



Now, under blinding lights and watchful eyes, they have to pretend.

To touch.
To desire.
To love.

But Adrian doesn’t trust easily.
And Rowan doesn’t love at all.

As secrets unravel, past lovers return, and obsession begins to blur the lines between acting and reality, their fake marriage becomes a dangerous game of control, power, and need.

Because the only thing worse than being bound to your enemy…

is realizing you might not want to escape.

In my past life, my best friend Isla was the one sacrificed to Blackstone Island. She was sent to fulfill the ancient covenant between humans and Shifters—to marry that cold-blooded Black Dragon Guard Captain, Sebastian.

The result? A tragedy.

Isla was tormented by Valerie, Sebastian’s childhood friend, who used the most despicable schemes to break her. And Sebastian? He remained an oblivious, arrogant statue for thirty years, watching Isla wither away like a rose drained of life. She spent her entire existence wilting in the shadows of his palace.

As for me, I followed my family’s orders and married an accountant named Ryan. But the warrior's blood of a martial arts clan runs through my veins, while Ryan was a spineless coward who loathed my "wildness." I found him calculating; he found me untameable. We divorced within two years, and I died alone and forgotten.

But the heavens have given me a second chance. I’ve been reborn!

The covenant between our races only demands a daughter of my family—it never specified which one. This time, I'm not letting Isla go to that hellhole. If a dragon needs a bride, he's getting me.

A short contemporary domestic-drama romance. Clean to sweet. Happily ever after.

My husband's family slid the folder across the table — sign here, family helps family, it's just a signature.

What they didn't know: I had almost three million dollars in an account none of them could find. I silenced the alert before the number could glow.

They think we're the broke ones. For four years they've bled the kindest man I know dry, dressing every demand up as love and cashing it. So I let them keep believing it — and I built a wall they will never see.

They're about to find out what happens when you spend a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

And this time, I'm not the one who pays.

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

I'm an OB-GYN. On Valentine's Day, I pulled a ring out of a woman's vagina.

It turned out to be my husband's wedding ring.

An hour before, he'd texted me. Said he loved me. Said he was too busy with work to come home.

I wanted a divorce. Needed one. But then I found out—our marriage was never registered.

In his manor, I was nothing. Just a fake wife.

He grabbed me by the throat—right in front of his mistress. Called me "damaged goods." Said I'd spent a year in another man's house.

But that year, I went as a hostage in his place.

I ran. Made it to the cliff's edge, covered in blood. And the man who saved me? The mafia godfather who'd held me captive that whole year.

He looked at me. "Marry me."

Yes, I jumped from that rooftop. Wind screaming in my ears as I fell, thinking it might finally earn me one fucking tear from them. Instead, all I got was "she's so dramatic."
Now I'm staring at fifteen-year-old skin in the mirror. Downstairs, their fake voices call my name—identical to that "welcome home" afternoon three years ago.
Yvette rushes to hug me, sugar-sweet venom dripping from her lips: "Remember who the princess is." I give her the same plastic smile right back.
I hear the voice in my head crystal clear: This time, I'm not fighting for their love—I'm taking back the life that was always mine.

I swear, I hate my husband.

At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.

He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.

Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.

In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?

I clutched the diagnosis paper that read "Stage 4 Gastric Cancer," my knuckles turning white. For twenty-two years, no matter how bad things got, Ethan always said he could handle it. But this time, my call only reached his voicemail.

I still remember that snowy night when I was seventeen. Under that tree, he squeezed my hand and promised, "You don't have to be strong anymore. Just lean on me." He said he'd marry me once he became successful, vowed to protect me for a lifetime. I believed him—believed him so much that today I drove frantically to his recording studio, desperate to tell him about my diagnosis.

But the scene through the cracked door shattered every hope I had. The sight of him entangled with Victoria hurt worse than any diagnosis. Later, when he handed me divorce papers, I coughed blood into my tissue, and he didn't even glance my way.

How did the man who promised to protect me forever become the one pushing me into the abyss? I'm dying, and even my last shred of hope is being crushed. Is this really how it ends?

I'm crouched on this fucking balcony clutching a pregnancy test, hands shaking like a leaf—two blazing red lines staring me in the face. I was such a goddamn fool thinking I'd tell Remy about our baby tonight. What a sick joke!
The banquet hall's roaring below and there's that bastard on stage, arm wrapped around Olivia, shouting "This winery has NO future without her!" Each word slams into me like a sledgehammer. TEN FUCKING YEARS! When he was drowning in debt, I sold every piece of Mom's jewelry to save his ass!
Then the son of a bitch hurls a box of abortion pills at me like I'm garbage: "Kill it, or Olivia's daddy pulls his money."
I'm glaring at that box and it hits me—ten years of my life pissed away on this piece of shit, and now even the innocent baby growing inside me is worth less than his blood money! I gave him everything and he's ready to murder our child for a fucking check!

I’ve had the Sight for as long as I can remember.
Born into a matrilineal line of Salem witches, I can pierce the veil of the dead. I see the wandering souls and the lingering traces of magic left behind in the mortal world.
I always assumed this gift was nothing more than my own harmless little secret.
Until the night of our fifth wedding anniversary.
I lit the final taper candle on the long dining table. As the flame flickered, my Sight instinctively slipped open, my gaze drifting toward the deep shadows by the fireplace.
A spirit was huddled there in the dark.
It was my husband—Silas Blackwood.
Ice flooded my veins. What the hell is going on? Is Silas... dead?!
My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone, stumbling back in a frantic rush to dial his number.
But before my thumb could hit the call button—before my lips could even form the words of a banishing spell—
Click.
The front door opened.
Silas strode in, bringing the damp, fresh scent of the rain with him.
"Sorry I'm late, Evie."
My breath caught. If Silas was dead... then who the hell was standing right in front of me, wearing his skin?

When I woke up in that hospital bed, legs wrapped in casts and burning like hell, everything came flooding back. This time, I wasn't the naive fool I'd been before.
Tyler, my brother Ryan, and that bitch Savannah—they destroyed me. Turned a gymnastics prodigy into a cripple.
Tyler had the nerve to grab my hand, begging me to forgive Savannah for ruining my legs. My brother chose outsiders over me, screaming about "family reputation."
Fuck their love. Fuck family.
This time around, I've got evidence of the $1.2 million they owe me. I know all their dirty secrets. Round two has started, and I'm done being their victim.
Those three bastards are going to pay back every damn cent they stole from me.

I was six years old when Mom took my brother and me by the hand, leading us into a mansion that looked like a palace. She told us this was our new beginning, after all the hardships we'd been through. But no one warned me that this so-called better life would mean giving up everything I had.

My scholarships, my prom dress, even my Stanford acceptance letter—they all turned into bargaining chips just to keep my stepfather and his daughter Sienna happy. Then, the night before my wedding, they even asked my fiancé to "temporarily" give himself to her as well.

I've always been the one giving everything, pouring myself out until there's nothing left, yet I've never heard the words, "You're enough." If love means endless sacrifice, why am I never the one on the receiving end?

Maybe only when I vanish completely will they remember my name—for the first and last time.

The day our parents remarried, my entire life descended into unrelenting hell.
Jace, my stepbrother, hated me on sight the second he walked through the front door.
Like a relentless ghost that haunted my every waking moment, he stole every girl I ever cared about, one by one.
I hated him for seven long years, convinced he only got off on grinding me into the dirt. Until that drugged night at the hotel...

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

I am Seraphine Marchwood. For five years, I gave every piece of myself to Alpha Veyron, convinced our mate bond was fated—until the night I accidentally overheard the truth.
He never wanted me as his mate. The entire proposed bond was nothing but a cover, a farce to hide his scandalous affair with Ophelia, the woman he actually loved. She was carrying his pup, and I was just the disposable, respectable shield to keep his reputation untarnished.
I ran that night, blind with grief and rage, until I crashed through the rotting beams of an old, rain-soaked ruin. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of his voice calling my name, too late.
When I woke up, I didn’t recognize him.
And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked terrified. The cold, unshakable Alpha who’d cast me aside without a second thought was panicking, desperate, scrambling to bring back the version of me that had loved him more than anything—even as a new, unforeseen path began to unfurl before me.

I once believed fleeing my engagement would set me free, only to fall headlong into a web of betrayal spun by my closest friend and faithless lover.

Now, granted a second life just a week before that fateful wedding, I stand before the man I betrayed—Alexander Stone, the unyielding soul who ended his life in my previous existence, all because of me.

This time, I've sworn to mend what I shattered. But as I reach out to him, his voice cuts like ice: "You don't need to know me. This marriage is purely transactional."

Yet if he's as indifferent as he claims, why did he linger by my hospital bed for two sleepless nights? Why do his eyes flicker with a devastation that could unravel worlds, and why does he shudder at my touch, whispering, "Are you afraid of me?"

As the shadows of old betrayals creep back, will I pierce his frozen mask to safeguard this fragile love reborn? And that haunting whisper in my mind—"Alexander Stone died because of you"—does it seal a destiny I can't escape?

I once believed that every click of Ryan's Leica shutter was proof of his love—a luxury villa, his exclusive muse—I was foolish enough to believe in this fairy tale. Until our engagement night, when Isabella appeared wearing an identical ring, and the media exposed his betrayal, I finally realized I was nothing but a carefully selected stand-in.

Have you ever spent three years of your youth living as someone else's shadow? When he held her and called me "just a cheap copy," I didn't break down. After all, isn't it more satisfying to turn the tables using the camera sounds he was so obsessed with, making him pay for his sins in his own madness? In this game of deception disguised as love, who really played whom?

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

I put up with my husband's cheating because I needed money for my brother's medical bills.

Until I found the heart donor report he'd been hiding in his study for three months. 98% match. He'd signed it "postpone."

That night, fireworks filled the London sky, his mistress laughing in the background. Standing over my brother's body, I finally got it—he'd been killing my brother all along.

I ripped up his check, sold every piece of jewelry he'd ever given me, and threw the divorce papers in his face.

"Murderer"—that's all I said.

Three years later, I'm getting a standing ovation at the Golden Hall. He shows up in the snow, eyes red, begging for forgiveness.

I just smiled. "Charles, you died three years ago."

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

I once thought marriage was redemption.

I hid that I was a billionaire heiress, threw on an apron and played the perfect housewife. For three years, I pawned my jewelry to bail him out, stayed up all night fixing his business proposals, only for him to parade his mistress around our house.

She wore my limited-edition cashmere sweater, smashed my expensive china, his mother called me worthless for not popping out kids, and he called me cheap trash he couldn't stand anymore.

Fifty thousand dollars—that's what he thought three years of my life was worth.

When I got pregnant, I thought things would change, only to get shoved down the stairs and lose everything.

While I was still bleeding in that hospital bed, he forced me to sign divorce papers, threatening to destroy me completely.

In the La Perla private room, he made me crawl like a dog, trying to pimp me out to some random guy.

He had no idea I wasn't just hiding my identity—I was hiding my claws.

My fiancé and I held twenty-one weddings. I put on my wedding dress twenty-one times, only to crawl out of pools of blood each time.

Car accidents. Shootings. Explosions. Fires.

Everyone said I was cursed, that I was bad luck for my husband.

I was the only fool who believed they were accidents.

Until the twenty-second time.

That day, covered in blood, I escaped from an ambush back to headquarters and heard him say coldly over the walkie-talkie, "She won't die. Save Valerie first."

It turned out all the accidents were personally arranged by him.

He didn't love me—he just owed my parents a debt he could never repay.

So he staged disaster after disaster to get out of marrying me.

At the twenty-second wedding, I didn't wait for him to cancel.

This time, I was the one who called it off.

My name is Ivy, and I’m 18. My best friend’s father, Sebastian Blackwood, a Harvard law professor, is mature, cold, and authoritative. He’s been the centerpiece of every fantasy I’ve had since puberty.

Those nights, I toss and turn under the covers, imagining his fingers slipping into my wet, hot va*na, imagining his cok thrusting into me hard, driving me to the edge of climax.

I know it’s wrong. He’s off-limits.

But every time he looks at me, those deep, piercing eyes seem to strip away my clothes, staring straight at my most secret places. My heart races out of control, my body burns with heat.

I don’t want to just be his “good girl.”

I want to be claimed by him, completely, destructively.

During this 30-day seaside vacation, I’ll make him see that I’m no longer a little girl.

My body is wet for him, my soul burns for him.

Sebastian, will you resist, or will you pin me down and fu*k me hard?

On my due date, my mate Kael locked me in the Frost Vault.
House Veyron's Hatching Law was absolute: the first dragon egg to break shell inherits the entire Emberscale empire. My sister-in-law Celine and I were both due to deliver—our egg dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother Roman's posthumous egg hatched first, Kael made his choice.
"Roman and Celine's egg must break shell first. You owe them that!" He ignored my ruptured water, ignored the agony of the egg already pressing into my birth canal, and shoved me into that dungeon built from ancient ice-dragon bones.
Then they injected me with Frostbind Serum—an ice-magic drug that freezes the life-bond between a mother dragon and her egg. I curled up on the frozen floor carved with suppression runes, feeling my child's pulse fade beat by beat, and wept.
My baby, I'm so sorry... I can't even protect you...

"Clyde, no—stop this right now. I only came to your class because Aaron recommended you to help me learn motorcycle riding for my job, not to get into something like this." On the open training field, as I struggled to balance the bike and keep it steady, my husband's old college roommate Clyde climbed on behind me to "correct" my form, his hands boldly cupping my large, soft breasts through my fitted top. The real problem hit when I felt his massive bulge pressing insistently against my backside, hard and unyielding, as he leaned in too close under the guise of instruction.

My husband and I've been married for three years, and he's been messing around with her the entire time.

Hugging and kissing her on set, whispering flirty lines in interviews.

Everyone online calls me a pathetic stand-in.

I never get mad. I just smile and help him smooth over every rumor.

That is, until I accidentally got pregnant and secretly had an abortion.

He was furious, his heart shattered, demanding to know why.

I cupped his face and said calmly: "Because I don't love you."

The one I truly love is his dead brother.

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.

He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.

He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.

Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.

But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:

I remember loving you.

That feeling, though? It's really gone.

He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

My ten-year-old begged me to take her to a summer camp in Italy. My husband looked at her like she hung the moon. Booked the tickets right there.

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

There he was, fucking my daughter's riding instructor on our couch.

But what really killed me? What he said, "Don't worry. Nina wants that horse bad enough, she'll keep her mom in Europe as long as we need."

Back home, my husband dropped a receipt. Two identical limited edition watches.

He froze. My sweet daughter didn't miss a beat, "Dad used the other one to bribe someone so I could get my horse!"

They lied in perfect sync. That's when something in me broke.

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

I'd already signed a contract. Going back to my art career in New York.

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

My name is Charles Cole, a blind lactation therapist.
Of course, apart from pretending to be blind, all my skills are genuine.
Ophelia sat on the bed and slowly took off her top right in front of me, her beautiful figure revealing its spring allure under the golden warm sunlight.
“Mr. Cole, let's begin!”
I nodded, reaching forward with both hands, yet I didn't dare show the slightest unusual expression on my face.
The reason was simple: Ophelia's husband, Russell, was standing coldly right behind me at that moment.

My husband abandoned a billion-dollar deal and flew back overnight for me.

Everyone envied Mrs. Harris and her perfect life.

Only I knew that when he knelt by my bed, holding my hand, his cuff was still stained with another woman's breastmilk.

He thought I'd just taken a fall.

He didn't know that while he was cradling his bastard child with that tender smile, our baby had already dissolved into a pool of blood and left me forever.

This time, I won't make a scene. I won't love him anymore.

I slipped the suicide note I'd written long ago into the drawer.

And on this rainy night, I began planning a "death" that would belong to me alone.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

"Yes baby, just like that. Oh fuck yes! Yes!"

I opened my mouth as utter shock and pain filled my body. My husband was fucking my step sister on our wedding night. Hot tears dropped from my eyes as the wet sounds and moaning grew louder and louder.


Larissa, the esteemed Luna of the Tokenmoon pack, had it all. A loving husband and a strong pack. But it was all a lie. Stefan, her alpha husband, was the devil. He maltreated and abused her constantly while cheating on her with her step-sister. To make matters worse, he rejected her and sent her away. Heartbroken, Larissa was lost until she stumbled across her second chance mate. . . Kaden.

Kaden, handsome as sin and the alpha of Griffen-howl pack is a broken man. When his wife runs away with another man, while abandoning him and his son, he vows never to believe in love. But when a homeless woman, Larissa comes into his territory, it appears that he might be breaking those vows. She is his second-chance mate but will he be able to believe in love again?

Aurora, once known as the top assassin, is reborn into the Pendleton family as the least favored and most ridiculed third daughter. Overweight? No problem, it's never too late to lose weight! Weak and powerless? No worries, it's never too late to rise! Timid and easily bullied? No matter, now's the time to transform into a cunning queen!
After dealing with unworthy men and contemptible women, Aurora is ready to live her life freely and unapologetically. But the aloof and mysterious Heath comes forward with a question that changes everything: "When are we getting married?"

Steamy, dirty stories with a kinky, forbidden twist. Each story is about 20,000 words so sit back, grab some holy water and relax! It's time to sink in 11 deliciously dark and twisted love tales! Highly erotic and brimming with dark desires, don't say I didn't warn ya!

18+ Forbidden Temptations (Steamy Collections Erotica)
Coach and Cheerleader
Principal and Student
Step-brother and Step-sister
Teacher and Student
Step-father and step-daughter
Father’s best friend and 18 year old daughter
Professor and college student
Secretary and Ceo
Maid and master
Younger boy and older woman
Doctor and female student

A hundred years after the war where werewolves lost against humans, Kaiya finds herself imprisoned in an island park where they are hunted weekly for human entertainment. However, when the ownership of the island park changes, she finds her mate, who coincidentally, is the new park owner.


“You are the first freed werewolf. It does not mean that you will be the last,” he says.

“Is that why you freed me? To set an example?”

“No. I freed you because you will be my woman.”

My breathing stops. The way he puts a claim on me makes me want to claim him too. “I—”

“Ah! Don’t worry about answering me now. I will give you time to consider me.”

I look at the table and entwine my fingers together. I take a deep breath and look back at him. “I want that too,” I whisper. “I want to become your woman, too.”

I answer the surprise on his face by flushing scarlet. Then, he looks away and I can see a blush creeping on his face, too.

“So, starting now, are we together?” he asks.

“Before that, we need to do a promise.”

“A promise?”

I take his hand to mine and say, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, until the gods and fate separate us.”

He squeezes my hand and answers, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, even if the gods and fate may try to separate us.”

"I'll marry you."
Lauren Greene never thought those words would escape her lips. But with her mother's life hanging by a thread and emergency surgery costing more than she could ever afford, desperation left her with only one choice—marry a crippled stranger.
Alexander Magnus, the reclusive billionaire heir who lost his parents in a tragic hit-and-run and survived the accident that left him disabled, had spent twenty years abroad rebuilding himself. He returned home ready to take over his father's empire—and marry the woman he had loved silently for years, Melissa McCarthy.
But on the day of their court wedding, Melissa never showed up.
Instead, Alex crossed paths with Lauren, a woman willing to trade her freedom for a chance to save her mother.
Their marriage of convenience was meant to be nothing more than a transaction—until real feelings began to slip through the cracks.
And just as Lauren and Alex start to find a fragile rhythm together, Melissa suddenly returns, determined to reclaim Alex as hers.
Tom Devon—the ruthless billionaire rival who has fallen for Lauren—steps into the picture, vowing to take her away.
With jealousy rising, secrets unraveling, and Lauren's mother's shocking death pointing fingers toward Alex, their world threatens to crumble.
Will Lauren fight for the man she's beginning to love? Or flee, like she always has?
And can Alex and Lauren survive the chaos closing in around them or is their happy ending destined to shatter before it even begins?

When Cassie discovered that her boyfriend of six months was cheating on her with a married younger woman, she looked for the cheating woman's husband and insisted to have sex with him. However, after the deed, she found out that she got the wrong person and had a tryst with the billionaire Liam Chapman instead.

Soon, her life spirals out of control—Liam's expelled son enrolls in her school. Her ex-boyfriend’s cheating goes out. Students complain about her teaching methods. And her co-teachers think that she is having an affair with the education minister because of the speed of her promotion and the number of her awards.

Wanting to escape the drama, she resigns and goes to another city, only to meet Liam Chapman again. This time, he has an offer she can't reject. A contract marriage of three years. He will provide all her needs, but in return, she will provide his, and that includes focusing on his little monster of a son who hates studying because he thinks it's very uncool.

However, as she stays with husband and son, she falls more and more for Liam and loves his kid as if he is her own. But, time is running out. Soon the contract will end, and she will need to leave the life she learned to love.