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 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.

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.

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."

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.

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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."

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.

I pulled my fiancé from a car wreck just seconds before it exploded. The fire left my back covered in hideous scars, but I saved his life. For the four years he was in a coma, I gave up everything to be his caretaker. Six months after he woke up, he stood on stage at his comeback press conference. He was supposed to thank me. Instead, he made a grand, romantic declaration to Estelle, his childhood sweetheart, who was smiling from the audience. His family and Estelle then made my life a living hell. They humiliated me at a gala, ripping my dress to expose my scars. When I was beaten in an alley by thugs Estelle hired, Julian accused me of making it up to get attention. I lay in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while he rushed to Estelle’s side because she was "scared." I overheard him tell her he loved her and that I, his fiancée, didn't matter. All my sacrifice, my pain, my unwavering love—it meant nothing. To him, I was just a debt he had to repay out of pity. On our wedding day, he kicked me out of the limo and left me on the side of the highway, still in my gown, because Estelle faked a stomach ache. I watched his car disappear. Then I hailed a taxi. "The airport," I said. "And step on it."

My husband, Bennett, and I were New York's golden couple. But our perfect marriage was a lie, childless because of a rare genetic condition he claimed would kill any woman who carried his baby. When his dying father demanded an heir, Bennett proposed a solution: a surrogate. The woman he chose, Aria, was a younger, more vibrant version of me. Suddenly, Bennett was always busy, supporting her through "difficult IVF cycles." He missed my birthday. He forgot our anniversary. I tried to believe him, until I overheard him at a party. He confessed to his friends that his love for me was a "deep connection," but with Aria, it was "fire" and "exhilarating." He was planning a secret wedding with her in Lake Como, at the same villa he'd promised me for our anniversary. He was giving her a wedding, a family, a life—all the things he denied me, using a lie about a deadly genetic condition as his excuse. The betrayal was so complete it felt like a physical shock. When he came home that night, lying about a business trip, I smiled and played the part of the loving wife. He didn't know I'd heard everything. He didn't know that while he was planning his new life, I was already planning my escape. And he certainly didn't know I had just made a call to a service that specialized in one thing: making people disappear.

My husband stood me up on the biggest night of my career—my first solo art exhibition. I found him on the news, shielding another woman from a storm of cameras while the entire gallery watched my world collapse. His text was a final, cold slap in the face: "Kacie needs me. You'll be fine." For years, he'd called my art a "hobby," forgetting it was the foundation of his billion-dollar company. He had made me invisible. So I called my lawyer with a plan to use his arrogance against him. "Make the divorce papers look like a boring IP release form," I told her. "He'll sign anything to get me out of his office."