Lady Dreamer

Alert: Mature Content. Contains graphic and explicit scenes. It isss a compilation of irresistible. erotic fantasies and adventures. ****** "You're mine," he whispered, his mouth tracing fire down her neck. "And I'll prove it until you can't remember what it felt like to be untouched." Her protest died in a gasp as he pushed her panties aside and slid two fingers into her in one smooth motion. Her hips bucked helplessly, clutching at him even as she whispered, "Stop, stop-" But she didn't push him away. She pulled him closer. "That's it," he said, his thumb circling her clit, his pace merciless. "Let me hear the truth." Her moans filled the room, drowning out the TV, the world beyond. The orgasm ripped through her before she was ready, leaving her sobbing into his shoulder, clinging to him as though he were the only solid thing in existence. But he wasn't done. He squeezed her throat, just enough to make her choke on her next breath. "Say it." Her body convulsed as another orgasm tore through her, violent and uncontrollable. The words spilled out with her scream. "I'm your slut!" His grin was feral, triumphant. "Good girl." He flipped her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up, slamming back into her soaked pussy from behind. Her face pressed into the cushions, muffling her cries as he pounded into her. "You'll never forget this," he growled, pulling her hair so her head snapped back. "Every time you sit at that desk, every time you look your coworkers in the eye, you'll remember me fucking you like this. You'll remember what you are." Her body shook with another climax, juices spilling down her thighs, soaking the couch. She sobbed into the cushions, too wrecked to resist, too consumed to deny. She couldn't deny it anymore, God help her, but she was addicted to this demon of lust of hers.

Alexa had a drugged one night stand with a stranger and became pregnant but had to flee to avert the shame her circumstance would bring her family. She comes back later seeking answers due to an incident that caused her amnesia. What happens when she finds out that the woman she had known as mother all her life is actually her father's first wife and she was an illegitimate daughter. Her mother, she is told abandoned her immediately she was born. What happens when quest for answers, uncovers alot of undesirable consequences? She finds she is no ordinary wolf but a tribrid and is faced with a trilemma: mated to a Lyncan King, a Vampire Lord and a Wizard Prince, which should she choose as she searches for the father of her pups? And if she finds out that she did not have twins as she thought but triplets , what happens when she remembers her beloved half sister was the one who stole her first son?

'But for you, I would have had a wife. You came and ruined it all, did you consider the lives you were ruining?' Jake asked. 'I did not think...' she started. 'Of course you were not thinking, you were just acting impulsively and now I have to bear the brunt but not alone. Oh, no. Not alone. You owe me and I mean to collect, Catherine Wells!' Cathy was not sorry for what she had done. He needed to have a taste of his own medicine. Whatever was good for the goose is also good for the gander!

Violet could not believe that a sister could be as heartless as her identical twin. She never knew Viola was jealous of the love she shared with Damien until she lost him to her. 'I can't let you have him, Viola', Violet said. 'He is mine and you know it!' 'Let me see you stop me', Viola replied. 'He dies not love you. He lives only me', Viola said with confidence. 'Sorry, be ause I am carrying his child', Viola taunted her. 'My passion got me pregnant with his child, what did your love get you?' she asked smiling smugly. 'He shall marry me, at least to give his name to his child and then where will you be?'

Mirabel had suffered so much In her life. From being sexually abused continuously by her step father while her mother pretended not to be aware to being abused by her employer and then gang raped led by someone she thought was her friend and she could trust. 'I love you Mira. You are different from the rest', Joel whispered. 'I never thought that I could say this to any woman but there, you have really caught me in your web'. Mirabel could also not believe that she could feel this delirious with desire. She had thought her past experiences with sexual abuse had made her frigid. She knew she has trust issues now. But could she afford to trust Joel and risk her heart being broken? Or maybe she should just have a good time and leave him once she was done with him and move on to the next man....

Sharon could not believe that the man who was looking so remote and formidable was the man who had taken her last night. She had thought that he felt the same way she did but she was obviously mistaken, she thought as she was filled with same at how she had lost control of herself and what he must now think of her. She bit her lip and tasted the salt of her own blood. Damn him!

'You feel so right in my arms', he said caressing her lips with the tip of his fingers, his mouth very close to hers, almost touching. 'Really?' she asked, feeling lightheaded and a strong pull towards him. 'Yes. Can't you feel it too? Do you feel this strongly with anyone else? We are meant to be'. We? She thought as she came to her senses. Someone else! But he was still in love with his ex wife and had a mistress who was crazy about him and perhaps he told her the same thing he was telling her now. She felt ashamed of her weakness but gathered enough strength to push him away. 'No, we are not!' she hissed harshly while he looked on with eyes wide with shock and desire .

The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother’s pregnant mistress’s feet, I knew my marriage was over. He moved her into our home under the guise of “family duty,” forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows. The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother’s priceless necklace. When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her. He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don—an act of war. I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother’s grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family. Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.

The day my husband, a Mafia Underboss, told me I was genetically unfit to carry his heir, he brought home my replacement—a surrogate with my eyes and a working womb. He called her a "vessel" but paraded her as his mistress, abandoning me while I bled on the floor at a party to protect her and planning their secret future in the villa he once promised me. But in our world, wives don't just walk away—they disappear, and I decided to orchestrate my own vanishing act, leaving him to the ruin he so carefully built for himself.

My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child. Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby. To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner. They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his. The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused. But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn.

When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god. Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires. He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family. In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet. Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it. That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed. I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property. After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash. So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good. A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy.

My fiancé of seven years, the heir to a mafia dynasty, claimed amnesia three weeks before our wedding, forgetting only me. Then I overheard him laughing on a video call, calling it the perfect "hall pass" to sleep with an influencer before he was tied down. He flaunted his affair, abandoned me with a broken arm after a staged car crash to save her from a scratch, and planned to leave me homeless. He called me his "property," a doll he could play with and put back on the shelf when he was done. He thought I’d be waiting for his "miraculous recovery." Instead, I disappeared, leaving behind his ring and a simple note: "I remember everything. Me too."

The day I saw Jared Stanley's interview, I filed for divorce and moved out of the perfectly maintained home I'd shared with him for three years. In that interview, Jared said his biggest regret in life was that, in a life-or-death situation, he instinctively protected what he called his most "precious national asset." The "asset" he protected wasn't me, his wife. It was his "fragile" colleague, Bailee Brooks. Two days later, at the global press conference for the G20 summit. The same renowned war correspondent asked me the same question. "Ms. Quinn, as a top-tier simultaneous interpreter, what would you say is the professional principle you are most proud of?" I looked directly at Jared sitting in the front row. "True professionalism is knowing that my husband risked his life to protect his mistress, and still being able to calmly, as the lead interpreter, accurately convey the commands that would ultimately save him."

Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley. Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him. That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!" He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law." Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart.

For three months, I was the perfect wife to tech billionaire Axel Delacruz. I thought our marriage was a fairy tale, and the welcome dinner for my new internship at his company was supposed to be a celebration of our perfect life. That illusion shattered when his beautiful, unhinged ex, Diana, crashed the party and stabbed him in the arm with a steak knife. But the real horror wasn't the blood. It was the look in my husband's eyes. He cradled his attacker, whispering a single, tender word meant only for her: "Always." He stood by as she held a knife to my face to carve off a beauty mark she claimed I'd copied from her. He watched as she threw me into a kennel with starving dogs, knowing it was my deepest fear. He let her have me beaten, let her shove gravel down my throat to ruin my voice, and let her men break my hand in a door. When I called him one last time, begging for help as a group of men closed in, he hung up on me. Trapped and left for dead, I threw myself out of a second-story window. As I ran, bleeding and broken, I made a call I hadn't made in years. "Uncle Francisco," I sobbed into the phone. "I want a divorce. And I want you to help me destroy him." They thought they married a nobody. They had no idea they'd just declared war on the Wallace family.

Kaelen was supposed to be my destiny. The future Alpha of our pack, my childhood love, and my fated mate. But one night, I smelled another woman on him-a sickly sweet Omega scent I knew all too well. I followed him and found them under the great oak, locked in a lover's kiss. His betrayal was a slow and deliberate poison. When his precious Omega, Lyra, staged a fall, he cradled her like she was made of glass. But when he sabotaged my saddle during a dangerous jump, causing my horse to throw me and break my leg, he called it a "warning" not to touch her. His care for me afterward was just damage control to avoid my father's suspicion. At a public auction, he used my family's money to buy her a priceless diamond, leaving me humiliated and unable to pay. I finally understood what I'd overheard on the pack's mind-link days before. To him and his brothers-in-arms, I was just a "pampered princess," a prize to be won for power. Lyra was the one they truly desired. He thought he could break me, force me to accept being second best. He was wrong. On the night of my 20th birthday, the night I was supposed to be bonded to him, I stood before two packs and made a different choice. I rejected him and announced my union with a rival Alpha, a man who sees me as a queen, not a consolation prize.

My sister and I were stranded on a deserted road, eight months pregnant and with a flat tire, when a truck' s headlights pinned us in their glare. It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us. The crash was a symphony of destruction. As a monstrous pain ripped through my pregnant belly, I called my husband, Kade, my voice choked with blood and fear. "Kade… accident… the baby… something' s wrong with the baby." But I didn't hear panic. I heard his stepsister, Florence, whining in the background about a headache. Then came Kade' s voice, cold as ice. "Stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Florence needs me." He hung up. He chose her over me, over his sister-in-law, over his own unborn child. I woke up in the hospital to two truths. My sister, a world-renowned pianist, would never play again. And our son, the baby I had carried for eight months, was gone. They thought we were just collateral damage in their perfect lives. They were about to find out we were the reckoning.