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I had been married for three years and never realized that my husband, Erik Hayes, had a mistress he held dear to his heart until I received an anonymous email one day. It contained a video where he and his mistress, Mia Dixon, were making love passionately for the whole night. Afterwards, he said to Mia, "I wish it were you carrying my baby. Just thinking that Doreen is having my baby makes me sick and makes me want to throw up." Later, everything went as he wished, but he lost his mind.

Six years ago, I was driven out of Manhattan with nothing but the clothes on my back. My two-year-old son, Alex, was dead, and I was branded the monster who killed him. My husband, Corwin, threw me away without a second glance, choosing to protect his new fiancée—my cousin Evelina, the real murderer. When I finally returned to their elite engagement party, everyone thought I was still that pathetic, broken woman. Evelina dug her acrylic nails into my skin, warning me to stay away from her man. Corwin looked at me like I was rotting garbage. To publicly humiliate me at their private yacht party, he forced me to drink three full bottles of neat whiskey in front of the city's elite. "For every drop you spill, I add another bottle," he commanded coldly. I drank until my stomach tore open, collapsing onto shattered glass and coughing up dark red blood while they watched with predatory joy. They thought they had won. They thought I was finally destroyed. They didn't know the trembling hands and the terrified tears were all a carefully calculated act. I wiped the blood from my chin and smiled. I didn't come back to this city to clear my name or beg for forgiveness. I came back to drag every single one of them to hell.

I had been married to Landen Patel for three years. He suddenly got down on his knees in front of me one day, and his eyes were filled with tears. "Honey, could you... temporarily divorce me?" I froze, as if someone had hit me over the head without warning. A chill ran through my body. "Jaynie is back, and she brought a five-year-old boy. I just found out today... that I am the father. But he has leukemia. The doctors said the only way to save him is if Jaynie and I have another child so that we can use the newborn's embryonic stem cells. Looking at his pained face, I gave a bitter smile. "So you're saying you want a divorce... to have a child with her?" He shook his head, crying. "It's only temporary! Once the boy is saved, I'll come back to you. Honey, please... think of it as saving a life..." Just then, his phone rang. Jaynie Payne sent him a revealing selfie with a message. "Landen, I'm ready. Has Lydia agreed? The doctor said it is the best time for me to get pregnant tonight."

"You could have hurt the baby," my husband snarled, shoving me onto the cold marble floor of the Met Museum. He didn't check if I was bleeding. He was too busy cradling Alya, the twenty-two-year-old intern I had hired two weeks ago. Bennett Calloway, the ruthless King of New York, was parading his mistress in front of the city's elite while treating me, his loyal wife of fifteen years, like a clumsy nuisance. He thought he was teaching me a lesson in obedience. I later overheard him telling his men, "Kelsey needs to be broken. When she hits rock bottom, she'll come crawling back. That's how you train a wife." He gave her my vintage Hermès scarf. He let her wear my family diamonds. He stood by as she mocked my infertility, claiming she carried the heir I never could. He waited for the tears. He waited for the screaming, the begging, the jealousy. But I didn't cry. I simply went to our bedroom, took the sketch of the nursery we had planned fifteen years ago, and lit a match. I watched the dream turn to ash in the wastebasket. Then, I signed the asset separation agreement, deleted my social media accounts, and threw my SIM card into a sewer grate. Bennett thought he was breaking a horse. He didn't realize he was freeing a prisoner. By the time he realized his mistake and tore the world apart looking for me, I was already in Paris, learning that love isn't supposed to hurt.

I spent seven years overly devoted to Jonathan, so much so that his friends called me pathetic. Yet, he got together with my sister. To keep me from interfering in their relationship, my parents sent me off to a self-improvement camp. I conformed to their expectations, but they couldn't handle it.

"You... you tested the children?" "I just...I needed to be sure..." "Sure of what? "That I'm a liar? That our children aren't yours? That I've spent years deceiving you?" ....................................................... When the perfect facade cracks, the true test of love begins. Nick Elba's seemingly perfect life unravels when a careless comment sparks doubts about his children's paternity. Despite his wife Noel's protestations of innocence, Nick's trust is shattered. A DNA test confirms his worst fears, but the truth reveals more about Nick's own insecurities than Noel's fidelity. Can they overcome their differences and rebuild their relationship, or will the fractures in their love prove too deep to mend?

I sat cross-legged on the floor of my SoHo studio, surrounded by thousands of meticulously sorted LEGO bricks. The afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over my workspace as I separated blues from greens with practiced precision. This ritual always calmed me—creating order from chaos, one small piece at a time. Click. Click. Click. The smooth 2x4 brick between my fingers was a comforting anchor as I contemplated the structure taking shape in my mind. This would be my most ambitious BrickMaster piece yet—a phoenix rising from shattered fragments, each broken piece carefully reconstructed into something more beautiful than before. The metallic scrape of mail sliding through the slot broke my concentration. I glanced up, not expecting anything important.

In my last life, my stepsister and my husband murdered me. They stole my position, my children, and my future, leaving me with nothing but a cold, lonely death. My sister, Belen, was consumed by a cancerous jealousy over my status and my healthy heirs. My husband, Dedric, a man I once loved, saw our children as nothing more than political pawns to secure his own power. Their shared ambition led them to conspire against me, and in the end, they took my life. I died betrayed and alone, a pawn in their twisted game, never understanding how they could be so cruel. Then, I woke up. I was back at the very moment it all began-with Belen on her knees, begging me to fix her broken engagement to Dedric. This time, I looked at the man who would destroy me and the woman who would help him, and I smiled. "He's all yours."

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of Bella's Bridal Boutique as I pushed through the glass doors, excitement bubbling in my chest. Three days. Just three more days until I became Mrs. Edwards. The alterations had been completed, and I couldn't wait to see how my dress looked with the final adjustments. "Miranda!" Justin's voice carried across the boutique as he looked up from his phone. "Perfect timing. I was just asking about the timeline for pickup." I smiled, walking toward him past the rows of pristine white gowns. After eight years together, these final wedding preparations felt like a dream finally coming true. "I'm so nervous to try it on.

Isabella murders her mother. Forced to endure Isabella's cruelty and Nathaniel's betrayal, Willow is pushed to the brink, even facing false accusations and life-threatening situations. Just when she manages to escape and divorce Nathaniel, Isabella's crimes are exposed.As Nathaniel realizes his true feelings for Willow too late, she has moved on with a new love. Will Nathaniel's desperate attempts at redemption change Willow's heart?

'PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.' "And where exactly would you go after the divorce?" Felix scorned. "Have you forgotten you had nothing when grandma took you in?" He added, giving her a dismissive once-over. There was no hint of surprise on his face regarding the divorce news, which all the more showed how much he disliked her. Wren has spent three years of her life trying to be the perfect housewife to an unloving man. But when she's pushed to the wall, she's forced to retaliate. However she has no idea what is waiting for her on the other side. Happiness at last or worse chaos?

Evelyn thought she had everything she ever wanted-a marriage built on love, a husband who adored her, and a life that looked almost perfect from the outside. Paul was steady, passionate, and fiercely protective, the kind of man who could sweep her off her feet with a single look. She believed nothing could shake the foundation they had built together. But all of that changed the night she met Adrian. Paul's estranged stepbrother wasn't just a man of power and wealth-he was the kind of presence that filled a room and left it spinning long after he was gone. His eyes saw too much, his smile promised too much, and his touch lingered far too long. One moment in his arms was enough to awaken something in Evelyn she had never felt before-and wished she never had.

My husband's affair pushed me into the arms of his partner, Cole. For three years, he was the perfect, doting husband. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then I overheard a phone call and my world collapsed. Our marriage was a lie. I was just a pawn, a tool to keep me docile while his true love secured my ex-husband. He had me brutally beaten, forced me to abort our child, and publicly stripped me in front of hundreds of his colleagues. His final act of cruelty was forcing me to give blood to save the woman who destroyed me, leaving me for dead on the hospital floor. But he made one fatal mistake: he trusted the wrong person to handle our marriage papers. Three years later, I returned as the new Chief Liaison Officer for the International Police. And the first faces I saw at my welcome conference were his and my ex-husband's.

That's it, baby girl. Take Daddy's cock like the good little slut you are." My boyfriend's father had me bent over his desk, hand wrapped around my throat, splitting me open with his thick cock while my boyfriend was on the line. * * * Forget what you know about love stories. This is a fucking raw, no-filter plunge into the depraved fantasies you only jerk off to when you're home alone. This collection is your VIP pass to the kind of filth that leaves you shaking-where powerful bosses bend you over their desks' and depraved strangers use your holes in dirty alleyways before vanishing into the night. We're talking about the kind of raw, pulse-pounding taboo that gets you off: forbidden age gaps, rough, messy gangbangs, public throat-fucking that steals your voice, and first times that leave you gaping, dripping, and ruined for anyone else. Consider this your final warning. This is explicit, vulgar, and engineered to soak your panties. If you can't handle stories drenched in choking, rough anal, non-con/dub-con kinks, and filthy-mouthed sluts who beg to be used like the cum-dumpsters they are, close this book now. But if you're ready to get utterly wrecked-if you're craving that full-body, mind-melting, vibrator-on-high kind of climax that leaves you a boneless, dripping mess... Your next orgasm is waiting. Turn the page. We promise you'll be a good girl for us.

Colette Bentley gripped her terminal leukemia diagnosis, her world shattering. Her only comfort was that her husband, Edwardo, was the country's foremost hematologist. But when she called him, desperate for a lifeline, she didn't hear his reassuring voice. Instead, she heard the playful voice of her own sister, Cleo. "Edwardo, hurry up. The water's getting cold..." As Colette stood outside an exclusive club hours later, collapsing in a pool of her own blood, Edwardo was busy pressing Cleo against his car and gifting her diamonds. He ignored Colette's emergency calls, coldly texting back that he was too busy to be bothered. When Colette miraculously secured a single, priceless vial of an experimental drug to save her own life, Edwardo broke into her private safe and stole it. He fed her life-saving medicine to his mistress to treat a minor symptom, smiling proudly as he claimed he knew Colette wanted to help. "I confirmed it was the VX-7 compound and gave it to Cleo. The effect was miraculous." He had completely erased her existence, casually sentencing his own wife to death to play the hero for the woman who ruined her marriage. How could a doctor who swore to save lives be so monstrous? But Colette wasn't going to die quietly in the shadows. She slapped the smug smile off his face, extorted a hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement, and walked into a rival research institute. This time, she chose to live for herself.

I stared at the ceiling of my Brooklyn apartment, watching the early morning light filter through the thin curtains. Another year older. Another birthday. I should have felt something—excitement, anticipation, joy—but all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Blake. *Happy birthday babe. Left something at your door. Can't make lunch, emergency client meeting. Make it up to you next week.* No surprise there.

For two years, I was the perfect daughter-in-law, caring for my "paralyzed" mother-in-law to pay for a mistake my husband, Holden, never let me forget. The day I found out her paralysis was a lie was the day I also discovered he' d tricked me into signing our divorce papers. They moved his mistress into our home. When I tried to expose their lies, they had my leg broken and sent me for electroshock therapy, forcing a false confession while my husband watched. On the night of his wedding to her, I overheard him say his biggest regret was ever marrying me. That' s when the last of my love finally turned to ash. Months later, as I turned my back on his pathetic pleas for forgiveness, a speeding car hurtled toward me. Holden pushed me to safety, sacrificing himself. Now, he lies broken in a hospital bed, looking at me with hope in his eyes, asking if I can finally forgive him.

I was dying from a terminal illness, but my husband, Broderick, thought it was just another one of my games to get his attention. He hated me, convinced I had betrayed him years ago for money. As I collapsed in agony, begging him to take me to the hospital, he grabbed my chin and whispered the words that shattered my world. "I will never forgive you. I hope you just… die." He then left me on the cold floor and rushed to the hospital to be with his true love, Kacey-my best friend. She was the one he worried about, the one whose own heart was failing. He never knew that the "betrayal" he despised was actually my sacrifice to save his family from ruin. He never knew the depth of my love, a love so absolute that even his cruelty couldn't extinguish it. So, when the doctors told me I was a perfect match, I made my final choice. I would grant his wish and give my heart to the woman he loved.

WARNING: This book contains explicit sexual content and scenes. Read somewhere private-you will want both hands free to touch yourself. Wild Orgasms is a collection of explicit stories where good girls get fucked hard, powerful men lose control, and every encounter ends with you soaking wet and begging for more. The President's cock driving into you against the wall of his office. The ex who makes you ride his face until you are screaming. The stranger whose hands know exactly how to make you come undone. Each story is dripping with graphic sex, filthy dialogue, and the kind of orgasms that leave you shaking and desperate for more. Get comfortable. You are going to be here a while.

The venue was everything we picked together. Third floor of a Midtown hotel, floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline pressed flat against the glass like a postcard. Two hundred white chairs. Peonies everywhere — my choice. An open bar with a bartender who knew Cole's father by name. The kind of room that made people feel like they were witnessing something inevitable. I stood near the entrance in a navy dress I'd chosen three months ago, and I thought: this is it. This is the beginning of the rest of it. Cole was beside me, one hand at the small of my back, shaking hands and laughing at the right moments. He looked good.

I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Ignatz. But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell. He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Everleigh. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her career couldn't handle the scandal. When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately. "Everleigh is the woman I love," he said. "Finding out you're pregnant with my child would destroy her." He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility. He knew. And he still sent me. I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Ignatz and Everleigh were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach. My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years. "Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm ready to come home."

For seven years, I sacrificed my career to be the invisible woman behind my rising star boyfriend, August. But on our anniversary, I watched him on a livestream, openly flirting with his co-star, Alana, while the internet hailed them as the perfect couple. His fans sent me death threats, calling me "forgettable" and "unworthy." When I begged him for help, he called me "needy" and told me I was "overreacting." Yet, when Alana faced the same online hate, he held a press conference, fiercely defending her as a "vulnerable artist." The man who dismissed my suffering was now a champion against injustice for another woman. I realized he wasn't incapable of empathy; he just chose not to direct it at me. I wasn't just forgettable. I was a fool. So I packed my bags, blocked his number, and booked a one-way ticket out of his life, ready to finally stop being invisible.

I smoothed the tablecloth for the third time, adjusting the crystal wine glasses until they caught the light just right. Sixty candles flickered on the chocolate cake I'd spent hours perfecting—Garrett's favorite, with extra pecans the way he liked. The dining room looked beautiful, if I dared say so myself. After forty years of marriage, I still wanted to create something special for him. "Maybe tonight will be different," I whispered to myself, tucking a strand of gray-streaked hair behind my ear. "Maybe tonight he'll see me again." I heard Garrett's key in the lock just as the roast finished cooking. My heart quickened as I hurried to the door, straightening my dress—the blue one he'd once said made my eyes look pretty, though he hadn't commented on anything I wore in years. "Happy birthday, Rose," he said, his voice oddly formal as he handed me a small wrapped box. No kiss. No hug.

When Patrick Banks discovers his wife, Valerie's, alleged infidelity with her co-star, he ends their marriage in an instant. Valerie's desperate attempts to clear her name only led to a devastating revelation that made her give up on her marriage. Years later, fate brings them face to face. Will they be able to forget, forgive, and rebuild, or will the wounds of betrayal prove too deep to heal?