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 3
Colt did not recognize me, but I was not surprised. Even my own father would not recognize me.
"Have you made a decision?" My aunt asked, and I looked away from my monitor screen. My eyes followed hers round my office, at the gift bags and boxes all over.
"They are really working hard to be picked." She looked up, and pinned her hazel eyes on me.
"No." I shook my head. "These are all from the second son."
"What?" My aunt yelped. But just as quickly she regained her composure. "You are not going to choose him, are you?"
"It's not the weekend yet."
She frowned at me, "Watch yourself girl. You are no queen yet," she said, her voice dropping several degrees.
I said nothing, knowing at times like these it was best to be quiet around my aunt. She stared at me for several more seconds before she sighed.
"You will be the Queen of all this," she waved her hand around my office, as soon as you give the family an heir, and a logical number of spares."
I nodded quietly.
"But I do not want the younger son for you. I will not watch you relive your mother's mistake!"
I stood up so quickly my chair crashed back, startling her. She said nothing more, took her bag and left.
I walked to the window to stare out, breathing through my mouth to calm my nerves.
At that moment, I heard a quick knock and the door opened.
"Mr Fletcher is here to see you."
"I do not see anyone without an appointment, Emma." I said, "There are no exceptio..." I trailed off as I turned around to see Colt walking past her.
"Sir, you cannot..." Emma started to say.
"That will be all girl," he cut in, waving her off nonchalantly.
Emma looked at me, and I nodded.
"How can I help you, Mr Fletcher?" I took my seat as the door closed gently behind Emma.
"Coffee would do," he said, staring directly at me.
He was shirtless again today, his tattoos visible under the open leather jacket, and my office lights bounced off his nipple ring.
My hand shook slightly as I picked up the desk phone. Here, alone in my office with him, my resolve was not as strong as it should be.
"Emma. One cup of coffee please," I said, and placed the phone back down.
"It's impolite not to have ordered one for yourself."
"I have no thirst." I replied calmly, and his eyes burned into me as his fingers caressed his abs absentmindedly.
I quickly grabbed my mouse, pressing my knees together beneath the table.
I had gone one whole year without sex, a monumental achievement for a woman with my condition. I was not about to lose that to this fool.
Emma opened the door at that minute, and I was tempted to ask her to stay and take notes for me or something.
She stole a glance at Colt as she set the tray down, but he did not look at her even once.
The man was still so arrogant. How had he not recognized Emma? Unlike me, the woman had not changed one bit.
"I'll be clocking off in twenty-three minutes," I said, turning to my monitor when Emma left. "Do you have something to say?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good. Let's hear it."
"You should marry me."
My fingers froze on my keyboard. I would laugh if I was not so bloody enraged at his audacity. Turning around, I decided to humor him. "Why should I?"
"Why shouldn't you?"
"Is this how you convince your investors? I see why Quiver Corporation is struggling."
"You..." He flew up from his seat, but I did not move, did not even flinch, just stared at him.
He stopped. "Do you know me?"
I stopped breathing, but managed to maintain my posture. Had he recognized me already?
"Did I ever do anything to you? Because I cannot understand why you are so damn rude to me, sending my gifts back every evening, and talking down on me when you burn for me."
"What?" I gasped.
"You get so damn wet every time you see me."
My jaw was hanging now, my eyes as round as donuts. "What did you just say to me?" I said, standing up slowly.
"I mean no offense Olivia, but I can smell you, and it's so fucking arousing."
"Miss Auclair to you!" I finally screamed, pointing angrily at him.
"Don't get excited lady, your bouncing tits are distracting."
My hand flew up to cover my mouth, "You pervert."
"No. I only have a habit of saying what other men would think in their head but pretend otherwise."
"You really think I will pick you now?"
He closed our distance in one move, and stood before me. "Why not? I am as intelligent as Dean, strong, but unlike him, I can fulfill those desires you are too embarrassed to tell your girlfriends."
"Get out!" My whole body was trembling now. I was losing control.
I had forgotten just how good at dirty talking Colt was.
Breathing against my face, his eyes tracing my cleavage line, his tattoos. Good god, his fucking tattoos...
"Get out!" I screamed louder this time, taking two steps back. "If you show up again before the weekend, the Fletchers can kiss this marriage arrangement goodbye."
He gave me a long look, turned and left.
As soon as he closed the door, I ran for it and turned the lock. Then I grabbed a pillow from the couch and screamed into it.
The idiot!
But venting was not enough. Colt had broken something inside me all over again. My one-year abstinence streak? Useless now.
I ran to my desk and grabbed my smartphone, skimping for my therapist's number with a blurry vision even as my knees shook.
"Ugghnn." I threw my head back and pressed my knees together as I placed the phone against my ear.
My therapist's kind voice greeted me, from her voice mail.
I threw my phone down on the desk, breathing heavily. I did not want to do this. I really did not.
I couldn't have come so far just to break this way.
I unbuttoned my shirt for ventilation, but my hand brushing over my chest aroused me more. My nails dug into the desk as my other hand somehow found their way to my nipples.
"Fuck." I bit back the moan.
My fingers picked up pace, twirling around my nipple to the image of Colt's hungry eyes just now.
I moaned this time because somehow my fingers suddenly felt like Colt's.
I was making too much noise at this point, so I hurried to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
There, I fell to my knees in front of the mirror. His memory was so vivid he could as well have been kneeling behind me.
The bed of my nails found my clit and journeyed up and down the arc.
"Ughnn," I bit my lip to the sensation. How had I stayed off all sexual activities for so long?
"Fuck you, Colt." I cursed, a tear slipping out my eye.
I'd been doing so well.
I heard his voice behind me, telling me to go on and fuck him, so staring in the mirror I slipped my fingers in me.
My eyes scanned my curves as I rode what I imagined to be Colt's fingers. I appreciated my impossibly tiny waist, the generous curve of my hips, and my naked breasts bouncing as I moved faster.
My moans rose higher and higher till I felt the familiar tremor in my abdomen and squirted all over my office bathroom floor.
The tears fell heavy from my eyes now. But I wiped them off savagely and stood up.
This was much better than letting that idiot touch me ever again. Getting distracted by him now would cost me my life.
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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.