DOMINATED THE IN-LAW
"Oh. God, Eli, please! I'm not on the pills," I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
"With a pussy as sweet as that?" he growled against my neck. "Jett was the loser. I'm not. I'm gonna fuck this pussy till the end. Afraid you're gonna have my child?"
My head dropped as a shudder ripped through me. "You're crazy!"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're mine now. My woman. And I'm gonna fuck you until this pretty body of yours only knows me."
---
Rowanne Steele thought she had it all. A perfect marriage to Jett Carter, heir to the Carter empire, and a future filled with love. But when Jett dies in a tragic car crash, her world shatters. Her mourning days aren't over, still clinging to his memory, drowning in grief and loyalty to the man she thought she knew.
Until one night, a hidden truth rises from his belongings and everything Rowanne believed about her husband was a lie.
Lost and heartbroken, she runs into the only arms that feel safe, Eli Carter, Jett's younger brother.
What begins as a moment of comfort in the rain turns into a mistake neither of them can forget. A mistake that feels far too much like fate.
Rowanne swears it can't happen again. Eli refuses to let go. Whether forbidden or not, he's determined to claim her. And this time, he won't lose.
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Chapter 5
ROWANNE'S POV
I turned, hiding behind another smile, though it felt brittle, stretched too thin. I was running out of fake smiles.
"Hey," he chuckled softly. "You look lovely. Beautiful."
The compliment slipped through my skin, gentle but his eyes said something entirely different. I didn't dare look too long.
Jennifer clapped as her face brightened again. "Oh, Rowanne, this is Madam Tira. She owns O.P. Electronics. Most of which Jett..." she faltered, the name cutting through her like glass.
Her voice trailed off, and I could see the grief flicker in her eyes again.
Eli's hand found her shoulder, holding her steady and comforting her but his gaze never left me.
Not once. Every time I looked up, I found him watching.
My pulse stuttered, and I lifted my glass again, needing something or anything to do with my hands. I had to leave before anyone noticed how his eyes never left me.
"Jett kept most of them at the mansion after your wedding," Jennifer finished softly, and I nodded, pretending to listen.
But all I could feel was Eli's stare and the ghost of his touch at my waist.
The party had split up into the gardens, where the air was cooler and quieter. Fairy lights draped along the stone walls shimmered like scattered stars, and the night breeze played gently with the hem of my gown.
I'd slipped away the moment no one was watching.
Now, sitting on a marble bench beneath a climbing arch of white roses, I held the neck of a half-empty wine bottle like an anchor.
The champagne hadn't helped earlier. This definitely wouldn't either but at least it numbed the ache sitting heavy in my chest.
But pretending only worked until the footsteps came.
I stiffened. My fingers tightened around the glass neck of the bottle, and I even turned.
Eli stopped a few steps away, the moonlight catching on his jaw, his tie loosened now and his eyes darker than I remembered.
I stood abruptly, brushing invisible wrinkles off my dress. "Don't."
"Don't what?" he asked quietly. His voice carried that low, steady timbre that could command a room or undo me.
I took a step back. "You shouldn't be here. Not with me."
He moved closer. "Don't run from me, Ro."
His words sank into me.
"I'm not-" I started, but he closed the distance before I could finish, his hand coming up to catch my waist.
The wine bottle nearly slipped from my grip as his warmth pressed through the fabric of my gown.
"Eli," I whispered, glancing nervously toward the ballroom. "We're at a charity event with your mother!"
His lips curved, though it wasn't a smile, but his head dipped closer, and his breath brushed against my hair. I felt him inhale slowly. Like he needed it.
My heart was a frantic thing, thrashing inside my chest.
"Dinner," he murmured, his voice so low, like a deep mumble that vibrated my veins. "Have dinner with me. We can talk."
I shook my head, though my body betrayed me by staying still.
"There's nothing to talk about," I lied.
His grip softened, one hand still at my waist and the other brushing down the side of my arm just once, enough to make my skin come alive.
I wanted to move. To say no. But when I looked up, his gaze caught mine and the rest of the world fell away again. His breath. The pulse in my throat refused to calm.
"I can't," I whispered, though it sounded weak, even to me. Eli's eyes searched mine, the softness fading to something deeper.
"Yes, you can," he said. "I promise to be gentle and nice"
I should've moved. I should've walked away before his voice, that low velvet rasp, could undo me again. But instead, I stood there motionless with every nerve alive beneath his touch.
His thumb traced slow circles at my waist, grounding me. I hated how much I still wanted him, hated that my body didn't seem to remember the Jett, only the way he made me feel like I was seen.
"Eli..." My voice trembled, the sound barely a breath. "Please, don't make this harder."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in that unreadable way that made my pulse trip. "Harder?" he echoed. "You think being ignored by you has been easy?"
I blinked, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. His hand brushed my jaw, his fingers just shy of my skin.
"That's torture."
I exhaled shakily, "Eli, people will see," I murmured.
My words didn't even sound like mine anymore, they were thin.
He leaned closer until the space between us vanished. His breath was warm against my temple as he whispered, "Then tell me to stop."
My knees felt weak. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sigh.
His hand moved from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair. The only sounds were my unsteady breaths and the faint rustle of the roses swaying above us.
My lips trembled as I met his gaze. I opened my mouth to speak, but I heard footsteps lightly against the stone path.
Eli's reflexes were fast. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush against his chest. His scent was deep and filled my lungs as I heard the intruder's voice.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," a woman gasped softly. "Didn't mean to interrupt."
I remained still. Eli's grip loosened but didn't fall away entirely until the woman turned and hurried back toward the ballroom. When her footsteps faded, silence rushed in again.
I stepped back, my pulse still erratic. I couldn't trust my voice, not after what almost happened, not after the way my body betrayed me. So I didn't speak.
Not one word.
I turned on my heel and walked away. My steps were quick as I forced myself not to look back.
I needed air.
I headed toward the restroom. My hand was on the door when I heard a voice coming from the side alcove.
Jennifer's voice.
I froze.
"I hate to say it, but yes, I do suspect her," she was saying. "Rowanne had the motive... I mean, who else? Everyone knows how Jett didn't adore her."
My throat went dry.
"She would be surprised to hear Jett didn't leave anything for her," Jennifer continued. "Not the house, not the cars, not a single cent. Jett didn't leave her anything."
A pause followed.
"No, I'm not accusing her outright," Jennifer said. "But tell me, what kind of woman stays that calm after her husband's death? She barely shed a tear at his burial. I just- I don't know what to think anymore. She could have killed him."
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9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
9.8
When Dawn Collins agrees to marry a stranger, love is the last thing on her mind.
All she wants is to protect her siblings and give them a better life. But fate leads her into the arms of Adam Manchester-a man whose heart belongs to a wife lying in a coma.
As Dawn slowly melts the ice around Adam's heart, she begins to believe that maybe, just maybe, love can bloom from sacrifice.
But on the night she's ready to claim her happiness, Adam's wife wakes up.
Now, caught between guilt, love, and heartbreak, Dawn must decide whether to fight for the man she's grown to love... or walk away from the life she risked everything to build.
Because some hearts never let go-and some love stories were never meant to have an easy ending.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.
8.6
Sinful Addiction
8.6
HOLY SHIT! My father's best friend had his face buried in between my legs.
I threw my head back against the headrest, fisting his hair in my palms but it only urged him to go faster.
His breath was warm against my clit and just when I thought I couldn't get enough, he hummed, the vibration sending intense waves of pleasure through me.
"Oh my God," this was so wrong yet my body betrayed me, leaning closer into his touch.
~~
Diane Ashford thought four years in Paris had killed the forbidden feelings she had for Damon Pierce. But returning to New York brings the past rushing back. Damon is her father's best friend, her protector, and the man who makes every part of her body ache for him.
Now working as his assistant, Diane must face desire, secrets, and family lies that could destroy them. Damon is powerful, possessive, and impossible to resist.
Can their forbidden love survive the truth or will it ruin them both?
7.5
I spent ten years blindly devoted to my husband, Kyler, building a perfect life together.
When I went into premature labor, he held my hand and promised everything would be fine.
But the moment I woke up in the VIP delivery room, the doctor coldly declared my newborn daughter dead.
Kyler rushed in, his face a mask of grief, insisting on taking her body away immediately to handle the arrangements.
If I hadn't heard my supposedly dead baby's telepathic voice echoing in my head, I would have handed her over.
She told me Kyler had poisoned my prenatal vitamins to induce early labor.
He bribed the medical team to fake her death so he could harvest her rare stem cells to save his sick mistress.
And worse, he had pulled the security detail from our eight-year-old son's school.
He was letting cartel kidnappers take my boy just to force me to sign over my family's billionaire trust fund.
The man I kissed every morning was a monster wearing my husband's skin.
How could he smile at me while planning to murder our children and drain my family's wealth?
The sheer terror and betrayal tore my heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
But I didn't scream or confront him.
Instead, I faked a hysterical breakdown, clutched my baby tight, and quietly contacted my family's private mercenary team.
"File the injunctions. I want him destroyed by morning."