Biker in Law's death kiss
"Don't tease me again or else you really want it. There are no safe words in my bed."
He is rumored to know a thousand ways to disarm and pleasure a woman, and I am Olivia, the nymphomaniac.
In a quest for revenge against my childhood bullies, I got locked into an unhappy marriage, with an untamed brother-in-law. Colt Fletcher, the morally-grey, rebel biker is ever excited by danger and prefers life on the edge. And from the moment he laid eyes on me, I became his forbidden want.
I should know better, to steer clear of deadly desires like these but when fate forces us to live under the same roof, share the same boardroom, and every accidental touch burns, my resolve begins to collapse.
But scandals don't stay buried, and my husband is the devil. The price of this betrayal is death. I must choose between my husband who owns my name, and his brother who owns my body.
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Chapter 1
My first time with my husband's brother, we were nineteen.
He grabbed my neck from behind and k*ssed me senseless.
It was Prom night, and in the last five minutes we had gone from almost-strangers to crossing boundaries that sent heat rising to my face.
He tasted of dark chocolate, red wine, and me. Colt tasted of me, called me s*xy, and looked at me like I was something precious.
I felt like a real person for the first time, not a sack of pork.
That was till the door burst open, and Nectar walked in.
Colt flew off me so fast he nearly crashed. I hurriedly reached out for him, but he backed away, his face twisting in disgust.
"Hold on." Nectar barked out a harsh laugh. "What is going on here?" He came out of the closet last summer and had become the unofficial queen bee of our school.
My heart was beating fast now, my hands sweating, as a deep shade of red colored my skin.
"Nah uh." Nectar shook his head, his eyes moving from Colt, who had gone back to his cool mysterious self, to me, standing stiff as a rod.
His eyes ran from my head to my pudgy little toes. Only then did I realize I was still partially n*ked.
I gasped, pulling my dress up quickly, my fingers trembling in panic to get the side zipper up.
But when it rains, it pours! The universe decided my humiliation had to be complete. My zipper burst open, and my side rolls stood out in defiance.
Nectar was laughing so much at this point, he was wheezing.
I grimaced, close to tears now, and stole a glance at Colt, who stood unmoving.
"Did you just f*ck this cow, Colt?" Nectar finally managed to ask through his laughter, and Colt lunged at him, punching him in the mouth.
I froze, desperately praying this was some nightmare. It wasn't.
Because Nectar began to scream at a dramatic high pitch, as if Colt had axed him, the door burst, my classmates, our arts professor, and the drama crew all poured into the dressing room.
I was ready to die.
My knees trembled, and my back sweated as I muttered prayers for the ground to swallow me whole.
"What is this?" Our arts Professor hurried towards Nectar, gently taking his face between her hands.
She shrieked just as loudly at his bruise. "Who did this to you?" She asked wide-eyed.
"Colt. He just burst my jaw because I caught him pants down with the fatso!"
"No!" The strangled words burst out of my lips as Colt rushed at Nectar again.
But there were more people to hold him back this time, even though most stood frozen in place at Nectar's revelation.
"What?" Samantha, the cheerleader, walked towards me. Rumors were that her and Colt's billionaire families planned to betroth them to one another.
"You f*cked this Nymph?" She threw the question at Colt, but her eyes were pinned on me, taking in my exposed side rolls. She looked like she was about to puke.
Colt growled, "This is the last time anyone will accuse me of something so disgusting." His face twisted like he had just tasted bile, shattering my heart into a million pieces.
He turned cold eyes towards me now, "You believe I will touch the sick dough who f*cks herself with a toothbrush at recess?"
He spat in disgust and strode away. Some laughed. Others murmured.
I stared blankly, unable to process what just happened. Colt touched me, he called me s*xy. Did I just imagine it all?
Had I gotten so desperate for male touch that I dreamed up something so vivid?
"Hey, you." I looked up to see the room had emptied out, except for Samantha and her minions. I backed away from the demons, but they closed the distance, trapping me against a wall.
"Those hot p*nts drove you to what's mine?" Samantha stared at me with hard eyes.
"Olivia hot-p*nts," Emma said in a sing-song tone, her minions laughed.
"Hot p*nts, huh?" Samantha said, her cold eyes still pinned on me. "I'll help you."
She grabbed the bottle of red wine Colt had been drinking.
"Bend over. I will cure you of your disgusting curse," Samantha said sharply.
My eyes went round as her hirelings began to crowd me. "Stay away." I cried out in terror. "Don't touch me!"
But Emma, Roslyn and Serah grabbed me, straining to turn me around.
I anchored my weight to the floor, and none of the size six girls could move me. They finally let me go, heaving in frustration, and Samantha slapped me.
Colors exploded behind my eyelids, and I lost my balance.
"You godforsaken b*tch!" She shrieked down at me, "You sick p*g." I felt her pointed heel against my stomach and screamed, but Emma hurriedly gagged me with her purse.
"You're always in heat?" Samantha's eyes were all fury as she grabbed the ice bucket that had held wine and turned it down on me. "There! Cool enough?"
I whimpered on the floor, shaking my head, unable to get the words out through my gag, PLEASE.
"What did you say?" She cupped her ear with manicured nails, "Still too hot? Not cool enough?"
She grabbed a handful of ice from my body, and raised my dress, while the other girls joined Emma to hold me down.
"Let's stuff it with ice, maybe it will cool down." She said, yanking at my underw*ar.
I heaved with all my might. Their small bodies flew halfway across the room.
I fled the scene while Samantha was still frozen in shock.
I was already out of breath from all the effort, but I did not stop running. I ran even though my flesh jiggled violently, a mocking reminder of my shame.
I wanted to run out of my body, leave this heavy mass behind that weighed more from shame than actual fat.
"Stoooop!" I screamed, crashing to the floor to avoid a car that had suddenly swept out of nowhere.
"Stand up, Olivia." I heard from within the black shiny Rolls-Royce Phantom. The window wound down.
I stumbled to my feet. "How do you know me?" I frowned at the female silhouette in the dim-lit car illuminated by only a starry ceiling.
"Your mother is dead," the woman said without preamble, and my eyes widened.
"Your drunk of a father killed my sister, and someone has to pay." Her head swiveled to face me. "A daughter for a sister. Fair deal?"
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9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
9.0
I shattered my knee jumping in front of a silver bullet meant for him.
The poison seeped into my marrow, putting my wolf into a coma and leaving me crippled.
I thought my sacrifice would secure his love forever.
Instead, five years later, Brennan stood in a warehouse while a Rogue held a silver-laced dagger to my throat.
Beside me sat Debbi, his mistress—a spy who had staged the whole kidnapping.
"You can only save one," the kidnapper sneered.
Brennan didn't even hesitate.
He looked me in the eye, his gaze cold and devoid of the bond we once shared.
"I choose Debbi," he said.
He walked out with her in his arms, leaving his Fated Mate to bleed out on the concrete floor.
As the blade dug into my skin, I felt the mate bond snap.
He thought I died in the explosion that followed.
He spent weeks howling in grief when he finally realized Debbi was a traitor and he had killed the only woman who truly loved him.
But he was wrong.
I didn't die.
A federal agent pulled me from the fire, and the trauma didn't kill my wolf—it woke her up.
A year later, Brennan walked into a small bistro in Italy, looking for redemption.
He fell to his knees when he saw me standing there, healed and glowing with the aura of a White Wolf.
"Alyssa," he wept, reaching for me. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything."
I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze icy blue.
"Get out," I said. "We don't serve traitors here."
8.9
WARNING: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!!
This erotica collection is raw, hot, intense, and packed with deliciously filthy fucktwists that will leave you breathless.
Each story is steamy, gripping, and driven by compelling plots that pull you deep into forbidden desire.
You will find A strict 59-year-old professor bends his tempting student over his desk and growls that she's been a very bad girl.
A college student wakes up sore and dripping in her biggest rival's bed, with no memory of how many times he fucked her senseless.
Her hot stepdad has a secret camera aimed at her bed. When she catches him watching, she doesn't rage - she spreads her legs and gives him the show of his life.
A seductive woman is the only weakness of a ruthless mafia king, and he finally claims her body as his own.
She knows her sister is cheating, so she seduces her husband right in front of her - and her sister can't say a single word.
Piper's rent is overdue. Instead of paying up, she drops to her knees for the landlord while her boyfriend watches.
A spoiled, arrogant rich brat demands a private striptease. The dancer doesn't walk away - she dances for him until he completely loses control.
An assistant's boyfriend has a huge cock, but "Daddy" knows exactly how to ruin her with his tongue. She chooses Daddy.
Best friends make a wicked bet: seduce my dad. She takes the bet... and loses all control the moment he bends her over.
Chloe has been secretly masturbating to her stepbrother's photos, moaning his name as she comes. She can't hide it much longer.
A married gym coach can't stop staring at the sexy teacher. She goes all the way and lets him take her between her thighs.
Her doctor tells her she needs rest... but she's determined to prove she's strong enough to be fucked senseless on his examination table.
Every twisted fantasy and every scorching answer waits inside these pages.
Flip the pages, spread your legs... and get ready to throb.
8.9
My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent.
But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress.
Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you."
To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife.
When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala.
He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent.
He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters.
He thought he had broken me.
He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage.
But he made a fatal error.
He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign.
They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me.
And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck.
I didn't jump to die.
I jumped to be reborn.
And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin.
7.3
I was the daughter of a loyal Mafia Capo, arranged to marry the Underboss of the Moretti family. But I gave my heart to his brother, Marco, who promised to break the betrothal and protect me.
When I went into premature labor in a freezing, abandoned warehouse, Marco didn't come to save me. He sent my cousin, Caitlin.
With a mocking smile, she told me Marco despised my "filthy Irish blood" and that my pregnancy was just a temporary amusement.
Then, she pulled out a hunting knife.
She pinned me down, sliced my abdomen open, and smothered my newborn baby right in front of my eyes.
"He agreed that this inconvenience needs to be removed," she whispered.
She revealed that she and Marco had orchestrated my father's murder to secure Mafia shipping routes. Then, she casually knocked over a kerosene lantern, locking the heavy metal door to let me and my dead child burn to ash.
While they headed to a high-society gala to celebrate my "accidental" death and their new power, I lay in the roaring flames.
As the fire blistered my skin and I held my baby's lifeless body, my suffocating despair froze into a razor-sharp rage. My entire life, my family, and my love had been built on their calculated lies.
But they made one fatal mistake. I didn't die in that inferno.
I dragged my ruined body out of the ashes, wrapped myself in a blood-soaked coat, and walked straight into their celebration banquet to become their goddamn reckoning.
8.8
I spent three years hating Damien Castillo, the ruthless mafia Don who kidnapped me from my engagement party and ruined my reputation.
But in the end, it was my perfect fiancé, Julian, and my sweet half-sister, Sophia, who slipped the deadly poison into my wine.
As the venom burned through my veins in that freezing cellar, I watched Julian smile. He and Sophia had orchestrated my brutal death. She had been sleeping in his bed all along, intentionally miscarrying his bastard child just to frame me as 'impure' and strip me of my family's protection. My own father used me as a political pawn, letting them throw me away like garbage.
And Damien? The monster I had fought and despised for years marched straight into a suicide ambush for me. He was riddled with bullets, turning his body into a human shield just to buy me a few more seconds of life.
"Touch her and you die."
I died in that blood-soaked basement, clutching his lifeless body, suffocating on my own blind trust. Why did I ever believe the golden boy who betrayed me? Why did I fight the only man who truly loved me?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of copper and mold was gone, replaced by the scent of Cuban cigars and black silk.
I was back in 1928, on the exact night Damien stormed my engagement party and locked me in his penthouse.
This time, when the ruthless Don approached me, I didn't scream or run back to my killers. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.