1264 Book(s) Related to i know you were trouble

Lydia Loveday is forced to transfer colleges mid-semester due to a traumatic event at her dream school. Little does she know, this school is exclusive to Werewolves, Vampires, and Magic-Users, and she's the only human amongst the student body... or so she thinks.
She is met by a BodyGuard that her wealthy father employed to keep history from repeating itself, except Adrian is much more than he seems. Aside from being a sexy Korean millionaire, Adrian is a Werewolf. Not just any Werewolf, however, but the rising Alpha of the largest Wolf Pack in North America. And, he isn't just her BodyGuard. It turns out that Adrian and Lydia are SoulMates, though it serves as a surprise to both of them.
As Lydia begins uncovering the truth about this College for the Supernatural, she also discovers hidden aspects of her own lineage that was kept secret, such as her father being an Alumni for a college that is hidden away in the mountains of Montana. Adrian keeps her plenty busy on top of all of her new discoveries, so her grades are the least of her concerns.

"I'd much rather have my head between my girlfriends legs than yours."

Life is never kind to the broken.

Then again, aren't we all broken?

I've faced the sexists, the egotistics, the rapists, the catalysts; everyone is an asshole in their own right. Sadly, I'm maxing out on how much more hardship I can take.

Griffin Riley used to be my enemy and the cause of my many headaches but now he seems to be my pain medication that takes the aches away. But nothing good can last forever.

Maybe we'll be the exception. A girl can hope.

But between the stress, high stakes, jealousy, fights, trials, the media, school, life changing scares, and most importantly; Lacrosse, our relationship will be put through the ringer.

I just hope we aren't smushed to death.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

Starla and Luna, an inseparable pair of friends, decided to take a vacation to Seoul, South Korea. There, Starla accidentally met a charismatic Korean man named Kim Ha-neul. This encounter led to a connection between them, eventually leading to them becoming a couple.

As time passed, Starla, a novelist, became busy with various activities after her novel became a bestseller. Unfortunately, this happened when Kim Ha-neul visited London to meet her, resulting in them rarely seeing each other. However, Starla asked Luna to accompany Ha-neul and show him around London.

With the intention of helping her friend, Luna ended up falling in love with Starla's boyfriend. She realized that this feeling would hurt the woman she cared about, but on the other hand, it was challenging for her to dismiss this emotion.

How will the love relationship between Starla and Ha-neul unfold? Can Luna eventually sets aside her feelings for the sake of Starla? Follow their love triangle in the story titled "Starry Seoul"!

Two things matter in my captor’s twisted world of crime…Power and money.
He stole me to gain both.

He’s a coldhearted monster with a reputation for violence.
So how can his touch make me ache with such need?

I refuse his proposal of marriage, of course.
But Anthony Rodriguez didn’t break in to listen to reason.
He’s going to make me his mafia bride.

Whether I want to or not.

I’m the Russian Mafia princess who caught the eye of the enemy.

Being kidnapped is nothing but business.
My dad is going to hunt this ruthless animal down.

That’s what I should be rooting for…

I should hate Anthony Rodriguez.
But when the corded muscles of his tattooed arms pull me in,
I feel safer than I ever have.

He watches me through the security cameras 24/7.
I find power in giving him something to look at.

My entire life has been controlled by my dad. But he is a dangerous stranger in my bed, clamping a rough hand over my mouth and warning me to stay silent.

I don’t know why my father stole from the American mafia when he has everything. And my terrifying intruder doesn’t care about the reason.

He just wants to claim a debt from my quivering body. But under his command and sheets, I’m discovering a new strength. I’m becoming this man's undoing.

Despite being trapped, at his mercy, and stolen from my family…
I might never want to leave my place stationed under him.

‘Kidnapped by my ruthless fiance’ is an enemies-to-lovers, Stockholm syndrome, cartel mafia romance.

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

[...] “Listen carefully to my words… If you want this pretty ass of yours to be marked by my fingers, you should be respectful and say only yes, sir.”
His other hand finally returns to my ass, but not in the way I’d like.
“I’m not going to repeat myself… do you understand?” Mr. Pollock asks, but he’s squeezing my throat, and I can’t answer him.
He’s stealing my breath, and all I can do is nod helplessly, listening to his sigh.
“What did I just say?” He squeezes a little tighter, making me gasp. “Hum?”
“Y- Yes, sir.” My voice comes out strangled while I rub myself against the bulge in his pants, making the chain of the clamp stretch and pinch my clit a little harder.
“Good girl.” [...]
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By day, Victoria is a successful manager known as the Iron Lady. By night, she's a submissive famous in the BDSM world for not liking to submit.
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With her boss's retirement, Victoria was confident she would be promoted. However, when his nephew is assigned the new CEO, her dream is shattered, and she's forced to work directly under the command of this arrogant, irresistibly seductive man…
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ㅤVictoria just didn't expect that her new boss also had another identity… A Dom known for teaching the way of a perfect submissive, and with no problem exposing his kinky side — unlike her, who had kept this secret by lock and key…
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ㅤAt least, that's what she's been doing all this time... until Abraham Pollock came into her life and put both of her worlds upside down.
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+18 READERS ONLY • BDSM

She wanted freedom...
They turned her into a weapon.

At the age of fifteen, Marina’s mother was murdered alongside the most powerful Don in the Sicilian mafia, before the wedding could even happen.
Now, almost six years later, just weeks before her 21st birthday, she’s ready to run.
From the rules.
From the blood.
From the Romano Famiglia—the only home she’s ever really known, and the cage she’s always wanted to escape.

But her “stepbrothers” have other plans.
Cesare, cold and calculating, the mafia’s right hand and loyal only to the throne.
And Matteo, the youngest, wild-eyed with a manic smile and a taste for blood.
They give her one job: seduce the enemy, earn his trust, and uncover what he’s hiding.
Her target? Enzo Bianchi, the second son of their enemy famiglia — a man as dangerous as he is captivating.

One deal.
One month.
One enemy to seduce.

But in the criminal underworld, playing with hearts always comes with a price.

And Marina is about to learn the hardest truth of all:
Freedom was never part of the plan.
Not when two demons guard the way out.

Ad Finem Fidelis.
Loyal until the end, even if she never had a choice.

I groan, leaning my body over his, resting my forehead against his shoulder.
“Ride me, Angel.” He commands, panting, guiding my hips.
“Put it in me, please…” I beg, biting his shoulder, trying to control the pleasurable sensation that's taking over my body more intensely than any orgasm I have felt alone. He's just rubbing his dick on me, and the sensation is better than any I've been able to provide on my own.
“Shut up.” He says hoarsely, digging his finger even harder into my hips, guiding the way I ride on his lap quickly, sliding my wet entrance and causing my clit to rub against his hard-on.
“Hah, Julian…” His name escapes with a loud moan, and he lifts my hips with extreme ease and pulls me down again, making a hollow sound that makes me bite my lips. I could feel how the tip of his dick dangerously met my entrance…

Angelee decides to free herself and do whatever she wants, including losing her virginity after catching her boyfriend of four years sleeping with her best friend in his apartment. But who could be the best choice, if not her father's best friend, a successful man and a convicted bachelor?

Julian is used to having flings and one-night stands. More than that, he has never been committed to anyone, or had his heart won over. And that would make him the best candidate… if he were willing to accept Angelee's request. However, she's determined to convince him, even if it means seducing him and messing with his head completely. … “Angelee?” He looks at me confused, maybe my expression is confused. But I just open my lips, saying slowly, “Julian, I want you to fuck me.”
Rating: 18+

"This is wrong. You're my uncle." Sophia said as her exposed back touched the cold wall, causing her to shiver right down to her core.

"Soph... I've felt nothing more right than this. Moreover, I'm not really your uncle. You and I both know this." Rayn said as he drew closer, minimizing the non-existent distance between the two of them. Their lips inches apart as she felt his hot breath on her lips.

"Uncle... Party... We have to go..." Sophia muttered as she melted against his hard body but his legs prevented her fragile, little body from falling down on the floor.

"No. We are not going anywhere while you are dressed as a temptress. Only I know how I keep my demons at bay, when I see every man present in the room looking at you, wishing you were theirs." He said as his blue eyes took in the revealing dress his kitten was wearing, and a black storm started raging within them.

"I'm not a temptress, uncle. I'm a 19-year-old girl." Sophia responded, trying to sound reasonable while pressing her hands against his chest, attempting to push him back.

"Oh? So, what are you up to now?" Rayn inquired, holding her hands above her head. His hips grinded against his kitten's as his face inched closer, their lips now touching.

"What exactly am I doing?" Sophia asked, as she struggled to breathe and tried to break free from her foxy uncle's clutches. But it was all for naught.

"You're tempting me into doing this." Rayn said this as he pressed his lips against his sister's, causing her to gasp and taking advantage of the opportunity to exploit the innocent girl's mouth with his sinful tongue.