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Jaxiel-her hot, married neighbor. Yes, she bought him. For a night. From his wife. "He's all yours," Livia said, tossing her curls like a bored queen. Heavily pregnant and smug, she strutted out of the bedroom like a proud pimp, not looking back. The door clicked shut. Silence. "This isn't the first time, is it?" Starr asked, her eyes locked on the shirtless man standing in front of her. His jeans hung loose on his hips, belt already undone. "No," Jaxiel said simply, a bitter laugh following his answer. He stepped closer-close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his skin. His hand slid between her thighs, slow and certain, fingers tracing the soaked fabric of her panties. "You're wet already?" She didn't respond. "Do you really like it?" she asked instead, voice steady, detached. That question stopped him. He blinked, like no one had ever dared ask him that before. Because no one had. Not Livia. Not the women. Not even himself. He didn't answer either. Then-he kissed her. No warning. No build-up. Just mouth on mouth, breath on breath. His fingers slipped past the fabric, inside her. She gasped against his lips, but didn't pull away. He explored her with slow, aching strokes-like he was trying to forget who he was. Who she was. What this was. For the first time, he wasn't just being used. And for the first time, she didn't feel like using.

𝐀𝐧 𝐮𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 20-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞, 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 36-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬. 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬?

Based on true incidents. For years, Sable Saxon lived in the shadows of her one-sided love. Spencer Merchessi was the golden boy-charming, untouchable, and utterly unaware of the quiet girl who adored him from afar. She had tried to confess before. Countless times. But the words always got stuck in her throat. Now, years later, she had changed. She wasn't the awkward, unremarkable girl she used to be. She had turned pretty. Maybe now, he'd finally see her. Maybe now, he'd finally want her. So, she gathered her courage, looked him in the eye, and said- "I used to like you." Her voice wavered, but she kept going. "No-I didn't just like you, Spencer. I adored you. Every little thing about you-your laugh, the way you run your fingers through your hair, even the way you tie your shoelaces. I memorized all of it. I used to count the days to your birthday just so I had an excuse to talk to you. I would stand in the rain for hours just to catch a glimpse of you leaving school. I-" She swallowed, the words choking her. "I loved you." "Thank you." That was all he had to say. She had waited for this moment her entire life. But he had never been waiting for her.

Yes, you read that correctly-this is a story about people who worship d*cks. And a girl with no memory trapped in their world.

Every girl wanted Père Caius Fournier. But I was the abbot's daughter-his privileged little dove. I came to him just past dawn, wet with sin, and nothing underneath my white muslin gown. No chemise. No pantalettes. Just skin, sweat, and the ache between my thighs. "Father," I whispered, kneeling before him, "I've come to confess what we never finished that night-" He told me to repent. But his eyes said stay.

He was older. Divorced. Hot. Had abs that could make a saree fall off-And I wanted him to take my virginity while I was wearing one. He used to tutor me in maths-strict, sharp, and so damn serious. But now, all I could think about was how his hands would feel on my waist, how his mouth would taste on my skin. I lifted my saree. Pulled up my underskirt. His mouth dropped when he saw my bald, dripping pussy. "Sohini," he moaned-his voice nothing like the one that used to explain equations. It sounded like need. Like hunger. Like he was about to ruin me.

He's my professor. My father's best friend. And right now, he's buried inside me-thick, throbbing, stretching me open-while my dad is on the phone. I can barely breathe, barely think. Christopher grips my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he slams into me, pulling out just enough to make me whimper before driving back in, harder, deeper. "Sofia?" My dad's voice crackles through the speaker, laced with concern. "Are you okay, honey?" I bite down on my lip, my walls fluttering around Christopher's cock as he grinds against me, rolling his hips in that devastating way that makes me see stars. "Ye-yes, D-ah-d," I stammer, my voice high-pitched, breathless. Christopher smirks against my neck, his breath hot as he whispers, "Be a good girl. Don't let Daddy hear you getting fucked." I shudder. God, he's so deep. So thick. Every push, every pull, sends me spiraling. "You don't sound okay," my dad presses. "What's going on?" Yes, Dad-what's going on is that your best friend has me pinned down, stretching my greedy little cunt, dragging me to the edge while I fight to keep my moans in. "I-I'm just c-cold," I lie, choking on a gasp as Christopher's fingers find my clit, circling it mercilessly, teasing, punishing. His other hand wraps around my throat, applying just enough pressure to make my head swim. My body is on fire, my pulse hammering. Wet, obscene sounds fill the air-skin slapping, the sticky slide of his cock dragging against my slick walls, the groans he lets out every time I tighten around him. "Sofia?" I can't take it. I bury my face into the pillow, biting down as my orgasm crashes through me. Christopher feels it-he growls, grips my hips harder, and fucks me through it, relentless, brutal. This is wrong. So, so wrong. And yet, I never want it to stop.

Emrys Harrow was my crush first-then he became my stepdad. Tragic, right? Dreaming about screwing my mother's man? Yeah, that's a whole new level of messed up. But this isn't a story about regret. It's about how I seduced my stepdad, made him cheat, and shattered their marriage. You probably hate me already-not that it matters. Most people do. But let's be real. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to watch the wreckage.

How could I not fall for him- Lowell Knight, my dangerously irresistible adopted brother? At 18, I was tossed into living with the most seductive man I'd ever laid eyes on. It's forbidden, sinful- but I couldn't stop the heat building between us. I hid my desire- kept it from our parents, from him, and especially from his girlfriend. But for how long? -------------------------PREVIEW------------------------- 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭ing 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐀𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐥𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞?

Age is just a number and twenty years isn't a big gap, is it? Parker Griffin is 40, and Sadie is 20. He's her best friend's father, the man she's secretly loved for years. What started as an innocent childhood crush has evolved into something far more dangerous. Now, with the years between them feeling less important, Parker can't seem to keep his eyes off her, and Sadie's love for him is impossible to hide. The temptation between them is undeniable, but giving in would mean betraying the trust of everyone around them. Will they commit the ultimate sin and give in to this forbidden attraction, or will the consequences of crossing that line be too much for them to handle?