How To Clean A Plushy Without Damaging It?

This dark LGBTQ+ romance collection explores obsession, power, desire, and forbidden attraction. Inside, you'll find intense MxM stories filled with emotional tension, complex relationships, dangerous secrets, and irresistible chemistry. These characters push boundaries, challenge each other, and become entangled in relationships that blur the line between control and surrender, devotion and obsession. Expect dark themes, high stakes, possessive love interests, emotional conflict, and unforgettable connections that refuse to be ignored. Each story delivers passion, suspense, and the kind of addictive romance that keeps you turning pages late into the night. If you enjoy dark MxM romance with powerful emotions, forbidden desires, and characters who will risk everything for love, this collection is for you. Some temptations are impossible to resist.

Warning!!!!! This book contains strong language, BDSM, possessive ex and an abusive boyfriend. And not suitable for readers younger than 18! Rated-18 Smut Smut Smut!!!! “Jesus,” she breathes out, tossing the lolipop to the side. “You really don't fuck around.” I nod like she can see me, I fuck around just not when it comes to her. She shifts back on the bed, knees bending then parting wide enough for me to see her freshly shaven pussy, glistening under the light. "Did you want me like this, Tamer?" she asks, voice low and rough. She hooks her fingers parting her pussy lips, enough to expose her clit for me. "Or would you like me to fuck myself, while you watch me?” ------------ Gianna Ramirez has three rules: 1. Don’t fall in love again. 2. Don’t get caught on girlgonewild.com. 3. Don’t let Dmitry Orlov back into your life. But the universe has other plans. Five years after ghosting her, Dmitry returns to New York—handsomer, hotter, and more possessive than ever. When her brother falls into a coma, Dmitry takes her under his roof… right where he wants her. To escape the pull of the man who broke her, Gianna turns to the one person who could erase him from her mind: Kevin Greyheart, the senator’s son who’s been chasing her from day one. Caught between her brother’s best friend and the man who refuses to let her go, Gianna must decide… who will have her heart, and who will ruin it completely?

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus online. But he wouldn't stop making that low humming sound, just standing there, staring at me in silence. His body was burning hot. Worried he might be sick, I hurried to contact customer service. After listening to my description, the person on the other end went quiet for a moment. Then they said, "Um... is it possible that your incubus isn't sick—he's just starving, maybe wanting to kiss you, or... do something else?"

He didn't want her money. He wanted her. Elara Vance is one bad week away from losing everything. Her freelance career is barely keeping the lights on, her sister is falling apart on her couch, and her car is about to be repossessed. So when she accidentally damages a stranger's luxury car on an empty street, she knows she's ruined. But the man who steps out of the black sedan isn't interested in her insurance. He isn't interested in the police. He isn't even interested in the forty‑two thousand dollars she owes him. Adrian Volkov wants something else entirely. He's been watching her for weeks. He knows about her sister, her bills, her father's death. He knows she's desperate enough to do anything. And he's about to prove it. The contract is simple: she moves into his mansion, follows his rules, and becomes his Doll. In exchange, her debt disappears. No police. No record. No questions. But the rules aren't what she expects. The mansion is a cage, the servants know more than they say, and Adrian's cold exterior hides something darker than she ever imagined. He doesn't just want her body. He wants her submission. Her trust. Her surrender. And he won't stop until he has all of it. Elara tells herself it's just a transaction. A way to survive. But the line between obligation and desire blurs with every glance, every touch, every night she spends in his bed. The more he controls her, the more she craves it. And the more she learns about his past, the more she realizes: she was never the one in control. And now that she's his Doll, he'll never let her go. Doll is a dark romance with explicit content, power dynamics, and a slow‑burn descent into obsession. Recommended for readers 18+.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”