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 2
COLT
The Corporate Dinner was in full swing when I walked in. Dean was the first person to spot me.
"Wardrobe Malfunction?" he asked as he hugged me and patted my back.
"No." I replied, withdrawing from the hug, and brushing down the lapels of my suit.
"This is a work function, Colt." He said through gritted teeth, his grip tightening around his champagne glass. "I understand that a necktie is asking too much from you, but showing up shirtless, really?"
"It's a free world, older brother." I looked away, adjusting my leather gloves. "Who is she?"
"What? Are you seriously changi.." But his words died when his eyes found her.
The mystery woman had obviously knocked the breath out of him.
Everyone was staring at her now. And that meant a lot, because the people in this room, by virtue of their net worth, had seen all the beauties the world has to offer.
But this one had us all staring. She did not smile, simply tilted her head, acknowledging the attention and greetings thrown her way.
She was confident. The kind of confidence only a beautiful woman who was aware of her effect on men had.
And this provoked me. Her arrogance needled me. I wanted to dominate her.
"Colt?"
I turned to see Dean whispering with his executive P. A. "You'll not believe who she is?"
"Who?" I raised my brow and Dean smiled. For the first time in years, something piqued my interest besides biker rallies.
"That woman is Olivia la Rose."
"What?'
"I know." Dean rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
I turned my eyes back to her, finally recognizing the older couple walking beside her. The Auclairs.
"Why did you not tell me she would be here today?" I whispered urgently.
"Regret showing up shirtless now?" Dean turned a victorious smile to me.
"Never been happier with my decision," I said, a small smile stretching my lips, and Dean laughed. A real laugh, not his phony corporate one.
"I see someone is feeling confident," He said as the MC took the podium again.
He led me to our table as everyone settled into their seats. The whole party fell into the background as soon as I took a seat.
My eyes found Oliva La Rose. Her glowing skin and those siren eyes held me hostage. She whispered to her family just once, then fell silent, unsmiling.
As the clock ticked, my curiosity swelled till I was downright restless. I was ready to cross the room and speak to her when she got invited on stage.
She stood up, and smiled for the first time.
I heard an audible gasp beside me, and turned to see one of our company's directors sporting a boner beneath the table.
I grinded my jaw and squeezed my knees when she began to speak. Her words made no sense to me. Not with that deep, breathy voice.
Her sentences, slow and controlled, hypnotized everyone. Olivia La Rose was dripping sex... stirring dark emotions within me.
As she gave a vote of thanks to all the collaborators on her company's latest product, I could only think of what her moans sounded like.
By the time she was off the stage, I was sweating, and my blood pressure had spiked. She gave a small nod to the crowd as they stood up to clap at the end of her immaculate speech.
Every single man's eyes were pinned to her form as she made her way back to her seat. She moved like an exotic cat, all hourglass, her peachy ass mocking us from beneath her silk dress.
"Come brother. We have a meeting with the Auclairs," Dean said, standing up.
"We do?" I shot up from my seat, and winced at the excitement I heard in my own voice.
But Dean seemed too preoccupied to notice.
I frowned. Was he nervous about meeting her? Although I could not blame him, I swaggered past him nonetheless. I could never feel intimidated by a woman.
I walked past her family and stopped before Olivia La Rose by the champagne fountain.
"That was a stimulating speech." I said close to her ear.
She did not jump, did not blush, but turned around slowly to look at me.
I inhaled. She was even more beautiful up close. But she had no smile for me, and her eyes were cold as ice chips.
"I'm Colt Theodore Fletcher, Group CEO, Quiver Corporation." I stretched my hand out.
"Mhmm," was her response, not taking my hand.
My brows furrowed in confusion. What manner of rudeness was this? My lips opened to scold when hers bared a smile.
I began to relax again but she said,
"Mr Dean Fletcher.", and walked past me with a sweet smile.
My eyes involuntarily closed to the smell of her hair shampoo. When I opened my eyes again, she was hugging my brother. From the surprised look on his face, I knew they were not previously acquainted.
Why then was she cold to just me?
"Miss Olivia," Dean welcomed her hug, smiling like a godforsaken monkey.
His eyes caught my glare, and he softly disengaged from her. "Have you met Colt?" he asked.
Oliva La Rose turned around, her eyes sweeping the full length of my body and stopping at my exposed abs.
Good. No woman could ever resist that.
"Yes." She said, looking away. "Is that Jacob and Co?"
Dean smiled brightly, raising his wristwatch like a child showing off his toy truck. "Just had to get me one. How did you recognize this?"
"CLASS is easy to recognize." She said in a soft voice, glancing at me.
I blinked as if she had just slapped me. Was she calling me classless?
At that point, her family joined us. And while everyone exchanged pleasantries, I stared at her, seething.
Right now, I wanted nothing more in the world than her legs shaking beneath me, crying out my name and calling me daddy.
I knew I could do it.
The bedroom was the only place to dominate such an arrogant woman. I needed just one chance, and I was determined to get it anyhow.
She turned her eyes to me that second, and my heart stopped beating, illogically terrified that she had heard my thoughts.
"Colt?" Dean said, and my head swiveled in his direction.
"The Auclairs asked when would be a good time."
"For what?"
Dean's brows came together in irritation. The older Auclair woman gently touched my arm.
"My dear boy, our families had a legal agreement that the Auclair daughter would marry the Fletcher son." She smiled. "But your daddy just had to go ahead and birth two sons."
"And we do not believe in a polyandrous agreement," Her husband quipped.
The lady swatted his arm playfully.
"So our Olivia would have to choose between both of you," the woman continued.
I blinked in surprise, staring at everyone. No one had told me any of this.
Before today, Olivia La Rose was just a name to me. She was the sharpest woman in the industry, the Auclair heiress who made business difficult for the rest of us with her inventions every damn quarter.
She had to marry one of us?
"This weekend is fine," Dean said, giving me the stink eye for remaining silent. "We'll meet you at our resort?"
"Fine by me," Oliva La Rose said, winked at Dean, and walked away.
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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.