3205 Book(s) Related to my surprise mate chapter 5

"Looking for trouble?" His gaze locked onto me, lazy yet sharp.

"Take me home," I breathed, pulse racing.

"Know the risks?" His thumb traced my wrist, sending shivers.

"I want it."

His mouth claimed mine, biting. Fingers shoved under fabric, groping. Rip – fabric gave way.

"Dripping already?" He growled, fingers circling my core. "Eager little thing."

"...Stop—"

"Stop?" He thrust two fingers deep. "Or stop there?"

I cried out. He freed himself, hot steel grinding against bare skin.

_

After three years of cold neglect in her marriage to Idris—who still pined for his ex, Raven—Vera reached her limit. A call from Raven during their first intimate moment was the final straw. Divorce was her only escape.

Seeking solace with a friend, a reckless night led her to Atlas Blackwell, the powerful CEO now leading her company. To silence his family’s demands and forge a new path, they entered a one-year contract marriage.

Now, with the contract expiring, Vera stands at a crossroads. Idris begs for forgiveness, promising change. Yet Atlas, her husband in name only, has proven himself her true anchor.

Two men. One heart. Which future will she choose?

I was Louis’s girlfriend, the fragile burden he always left behind. For years, I waited in the shadows—my health neglected, my heart ignored—while he treated me like an accessory. But the night he abandoned me in a blizzard for someone else, I finally realized the truth: I wasn't his love; I was just his obligation.

Trapped in a freezing RV with a failing heart and no way out, I faced the end alone—until Graham Cox arrived. Louis’s cold, aloof older brother—a man who had always viewed me as an annoying pest—tore through the storm to save me. “If she dies,” he growled at Louis, “don’t bother coming home.”

He didn't just save my life; he pulled me from the wreckage of a toxic relationship. But now, the lines are blurring. Beneath his icy, disciplined military facade, a dangerous obsession has stirred. One night, he pinned me against a door, his eyes burning with a hunger he’d hidden for a decade. “Did you really think,” he rasped, “that I only ever wanted to be your brother?”

Now, Louis is begging for a second chance, but I’ve already moved on. I’ve walked into Graham’s cold, calculated trap, and there is no turning back. In a world of family secrets and forbidden desires, I have to choose: the boy who broke me, or the man who is quietly, obsessively claiming me.

Ivy Hayes has one dream: escape to the Solaris Sanctuary where sunlight keeps vampires away forever. But when she encounters her dying high school classmate Lucien Sinclair at the blood lodge, everything shatters.

Lucien is now a vampire, poisoned by silver and descending into madness. His brother Valerius—the ruthless head of the Blackwood family—kidnaps Ivy and drags her into his estate. Her scent is the only thing keeping Lucien sane. She's not a nurse. She's a living sedative, monitored and controlled, her body no longer her own.

Valerius underwent an ancient ritual that severed his empathy. To him, Ivy is just another possession to manage. He controls her every movement, destroys her escape routes, and tightens his grip until she's utterly trapped. But his cold precision hides something far more dangerous—a dark obsession that hungers for more than obedience.

While caring for Lucien, Ivy finds unexpected tenderness with the gentle vampire who still remembers her. But when Valerius corners her in shadowed hallways, his touch blurs the line between punishment and twisted desire.

Then Seraphina arrives—Valerius's fiancée and the woman who once shattered Lucien's heart. Her return ignites a vicious war between brothers, with Ivy trapped at the center.

One vampire offers her broken tenderness. One demands absolute surrender. One wants her destroyed.

Can Ivy reclaim her freedom—or will she discover that some chains are forged with blood, desire, and darkness?

WARNING: Dark paranormal romance with explicit content, dubious consent, captivity, and morally complex relationships. 18+ only.

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.