Who Wrote 'I Was His Bed Comp'?

“You walked into my room, Astrid. No bra. No panties. What did you expect me to do? Pray?” “I expect you to look away.” “Look away?” he chuckled in a low, dangerous tone as he trod toward me. “Baby, I've looked away for damn five years.” ~ When Astrid returns home for summer, she's expecting chill nights and zero drama. Except her brother's best friend–Rhett Rivers–is crashing at their house. And he has grown into every bit of the trouble she shouldn't want. One time at a party leads them to an unforgettable one nightstand What if Astrid Cole realizes she'd not just had sex with her brother's best friend but also let him touch her in some kind of way she never felt?

"Can you feel it?" Richard breathed, his thick fingers buried deep inside my dripping pussy while his eyes locked on mine. "This greedy cunt clenching around my fingers... begging for more. You're such a desperate little slut for me." "I hate you," I gasped, even as my back arched and my pussy gushed around his hand. "No, you don't," he said, his thumb finding my clit and pressing hard. "You hate that I am the only one who makes you feel this way. You hate that I am the one who knows exactly how to ruin you." Shame and pleasure twisted inside me as he continued, his fingers relentless, finding every spot that made me shake. ****** It shouldn't have been him touching me, fucking me and making me scream in ways I never knew I could. Now, nothing could end this forbidden affair. He was the wrong man — my father-in-law —- yet the only one whose touch could make me come undone... the only one who knew exactly how to break me and put me back together. I should walk away. I should end this filthy game. But a single touch from him and whispered filthy words leave me moaning his name like I'm made for him, and beg for more.

For eight years, I was the ghost in Lorenzo Valenti's empire. By day, I was his executive assistant, the engine of his criminal enterprise. By night, I was the most submissive bird in his gilded cage, and the nameless body in his bed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on madness, a foolish flame I'd nurtured since I was a scholarship student pulled into his orbit. I believed my quiet love could one day melt the ice around his heart. I was wrong. The day his unforgettable first love, Isabella, returned, the man I knew vanished. The rare smiles once reserved for me were now all for her. My presence by his side was erased, replaced by hers. Even when she framed me, he believed her without hesitation. He chose her, again and again. I submitted my resignation. He signed it without looking. He thought I'd crawl back, broken and begging. He was wrong. While he was busy playing house with his "cuore mio", I was quietly packing away my life, preparing to vanish from his world forever.

The day I decided to marry the heir to one of the East Coast's wealthiest families, my ex-boyfriend Jack Harris showed up in my dream again. This time was different from all the others. He was on his knees in front of me, sobbing until his voice gave out. "Nora, I regret it." "Won't you come back to me?" The old me would have softened. But this time, I woke up and only wanted to laugh. For ten years I thought I dreamed of him because I couldn't let go, that I was pathetic for it. Then my best friend, a therapist, told me a colleague of hers had picked up a very strange client, a man who'd sold off everything he owned to learn a form of hypnosis that let him control people's dreams deeply. That man was Jack Harris. His wife was Vivian, the classmate who'd bullied me for years. The three of us had grown up together, childhood friends from the same small town. He'd tormented me for ten years, dumping me a different way in my dreams every single night, all to keep Vivian happy. And now he had me listening to his confessions in my dreams. It wasn't his conscience turning over. It was so I'd kill myself, so my heart could be transplanted into Vivian whole and undamaged. What he never imagined was that I'd found out everything ahead of time. This time, I was going to watch this rotten pair destroy themselves, one rotting away in his dreams, the other rotting in a hospital bed.

While her husband stayed in the hospital beside his mistress, Alessia was in his enemy’s bed—naked, breathless, and moaning his name. Alessia never planned to be the woman who used sex as revenge. But when fate shoved the truth in her face that the man she loved was sharing his heart and bed with someone else, she didn’t cry. Instead she made a plan. She walks into the office of his coldest rival, Miguel Smith, and make him an offer no man expects. “Sleep with me,” Miguel has a rule; no married women. Especially not the wife of the man he hates most. But the moment he sees Alessia, something shifts. She’s fire wrapped in ice, and one night isn’t nearly enough. Now he’s hooked—on her lips, on her body, on ruining her husband, and making her his. Again and again. And when her husband tries to crawl back into her life, Miguel makes one thing crystal clear: Alessia is his now… and he doesn’t share.

"I don't like a fresh stake," My husband said while making love with his secretary in front of me, I married him for the sake of our company but he never dare to touch me, because I'm V, and that the thing disgusts him, I run to a club because of jealousy but after I wake up, the most famous perverted and playboy businessman is naked in the same bed with me, "What the hell have I done?" I said while looking at my body.