Giant Tiny Fluff Novels & Stories

His steel gray eyes pierced into hers, and Rose felt like he become luring her into his daJA abyss. She took worried steps backward, however she didn't understand that he cherished the chase and derived pride from looking her run.She knew she couldn't run nor conceal from him, but there has been no different choice. He without difficulty cornered her in opposition to the wall, trapping her there. considered one of his arms snaked round her tiny waist, and the other caged her among himself and the wall. "tell me what you need, Rose," he stated, his hot breath fanning her neck. The moonlight cast a shadow on him, making him appear to be the satan he was. "What I need is to tug you to hell in which humans like you belong," she seethed. He let out a raw, deep giggle that had her insides twisting."And you suspect you will go away hell after dragging me there? interesting," James chuckled. "i'll ensure you might not get out of there. i'll make certain you have got nowhere else to run however my arms. My call can be the handiest factor you can pronounce as it might be the simplest element you think about, and whilst that occurs, you will be absolutely mine, Rose," he stated sinisterly. Trapped among love and struggle, Rose need to sail through if she intends to protect the humans she loves.

HIGHLY RATED(18+) Author's warnings: THIS BOOK MAY CONTAIN HIGHLY SEXUAL CONTENT, ABUSE, ILLEGAL ACTIONS AND DEATH. IF YOU CANT WITHSTAND ANY OF THIS MENTIONED ABOVE, KINDLY PASS BECAUSE IT'S NOT FOR SOFT-HEARTED. ------------------------------ "I own this hotel, so don't ask. But I did enjoy your moan last night, and you will be rewarded for putting up with my brother that night." Leonardo stated, placing one hand on the wall and leaning down to her eye level. "What do you want from me?" Isabella's voice quivered with fear as she inquired. "Isn't it obvious Isabella?" he asked before continuing. "Your pussy plumpkin," he stated confidently. "What more can I request, if not for those wet, silky partings right between your thighs?" He smirked, sending a chill down her spine. He leans close to her face, just an inch away. “Can you be able to give that to me, plumpkin?" He asked cockily, staring at her with hunger, as if he yearned for her intensely. Of course, his whole body system was burning for her, but despite his overwhelming desire, he restrained himself, maintaining boundaries cause he wouldn’t want to forcefully take advantage of her. He aimed to make her crave him and beg to have him, and once he had her beneath him, with his cock thrusting deep into her sweet, tiny little hole, he would make sure to dominate her completely, breaking her and leaving her shattered at his will.

Amara Wilson's life was a silent prison under her stepfather's abuse. Driven by greed and debt, he sells her into a transactional marriage with the formidable Italian Mafia boss, Emiliano Valenti. For Emiliano, cold and scarred by betrayal, Amara is a mere contractual solution—a means to an heir, with a strict expectation of obligation, not love. Amara accepts her fate, hiding the secret of her brutal past and the bruises beneath her elegant new facade. ​The silence breaks when Emiliano spots a fading handprint on her neck. This tiny mark ignites a furious, unexpected protectiveness, clashing with his ingrained cynicism. His suspicion leads him to task his right-hand man, Matteo, with an investigation into the Wilson family. Matteo uncovers a shocking web of manipulation, violence, and treachery surrounding Amara’s stolen inheritance and her father’s suspicious death. As Emiliano learns the full extent of her stepfather's cruelty, his indifference transforms into a burning need for justice and vengeance. ​Forced into shared quarters, the terrified Amara finds unexpected solace in Emiliano's demanding presence, even waking up safe in his arms. Emiliano, battling the ghosts of his past, struggles with the confusing pull he feels toward his quiet, resilient wife, determined to become the protector she desperately needs. As their opulent world clashes with Amara's dark secrets, their transactional arrangement begins to unravel. Can a marriage born of debt and fear ignite a slow, consuming love strong enough to withstand the violent path of retribution? This is a story of healing, hidden strength, and a powerful Mafia boss who finds the greatest treasure in the heart of the woman he bought.

The heaviness in the air is the prequel to the Across the desk. However it is told from Max's point of view. He realizes that he is stuck in life and he really wants to move on but he doesn't know how. His first time going out with a person he is accused of the worst thing a man can be accused of. Though the truth came out later he had already lost his place in his family and in the town. He never trusted women again. He knows that it all revolves around one women though. Then one day he is getting ready to go over his files for his job as an detective he sees one that he doesn't know. He opens the file and it is her, the woman who ruined his life. She was now dead. He is assigned the case to find her murderer. This is his chance to redeem himself and finally put the past to bed. He has to revisit everything in this woman's life and with some twists and turns he finally finishes the case with a jaw dropping person accused of the murder. Then he goes through the trial and he makes himself a promise. When the case is finally over he will move on and find the family he wants to have. The day the verdict for the last of the trials comes to an end Deanna Watson walks into his office. This is his chance to finally do something about his slight obsession with the tiny student. This story goes right into the across the desk and answers the questions of how Max is the way he is when it comes to dealing with the Watson family.

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

I had spent years paying for Damian Grant’s infertility in every way a woman could. Doctors, treatments, private clinics, and humiliation I swallowed in silence. Then, against every odd, I finally got pregnant. It was the child the Grant family had been waiting for. The miracle Madam Evelyn Grant had prayed for. The one thing Damian had been told he might never have. On the night before our wedding, I saw a local post climbing the trending list. [Another day of being the only girl who gets under my boss’s skin.] In the video, a young woman smiled sweetly at the camera. [My boss is terrifying to everyone else. Cold eyes, bad temper, the whole package. But today, during a meeting, I secretly stepped on his shoe under the table. He actually smiled at me. Then he texted me and told me to behave.] The comments were full of people swooning. [That has to be love. A man like that only softens for one woman.] [Look closely. There must be some little detail on him that belongs only to you.] I scrolled down and saw the influencer’s reply. It was a photo of a dark silver tie clip pinned right over her chest. [This is the gift he gave me. He said whenever I see it, I should think of him.] I stared at that tie clip for a long time. It was the engagement gift I had spent a month polishing by hand for Damian. And inside it, there was still a tiny heart made from his fingerprint and mine.

*My mate turns out to be the mafia king?!* “Stop flirting with my staff.” My head snaps toward the guy I’ve run into twice today. I thought he was just an average school playboy. “Your staff?” I ask stupidly. He smiles widely. “That’s right, sweetheart. This is my club.” * “W-what are you doing?” I whisper, but the look in his eyes says it all. “Do you feel that?” He asks. It takes a second, but then I feel tiny sparks racing along my skin as his hand slips under my jacket and over my skin. I gasp, and then his lips are on mine. *** A few years ago, a series of scientific research buildings were attacked. The chemicals from those research facilities had seeped into our water supply and slowly manipulated our DNA. Last year was the first report of someone showing a hint of supernatural abilities. Then another and another until suddenly, there were people with abilities popping up all over the place. People with abilities were either feared or envied. I have tried hiding my ability for as long as I can. My ability would have me locked up and used until there was nothing left of me. The ability to heal is a gift everyone would want to take advantage of, so I never use it…ever. Until... I meet him. Julian. My schoolmate. The boss of The Hell Club. The Mafia King. My...mate. What we didn't know at the time was that these so-called DNA alterations were all werewolf genes growing inside the human body. And he, Julian... is my mate.

“Eve,” he called, placing wet inhumane kisses on my neck as his strong but warm hands held my tiny waist. I closed my eyes. "Yes...sir?" I moaned helplessly, feeling the harsh tingles in between my legs. "Eve," he called again, trailing wet kisses towards my ear. "Ad....Adrian," I breathed. "What am I doing?" he asked, nibbling my ear lobe. "Touching....touching me?" "I shouldn't be touching you," he said, exploring my neck like a thirsty vampire. "I....i want you to," I stuttered shamelessly. He wrapped my neck with his hand, choking me slightly. Oh, heavens. "My son is crazy about you," he said, gripping me tightly. "I don't want him," I whispered, taking in his wicked kisses on my neck. "You should. And.......I have a wife." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After a devastating night that left her wealthy parents dead, twenty-year-old college freshman Evelyn (Eve) Millers, a fairytale enthusiast, found herself fleeing for her life. Just when hope seemed lost, she was rescued by the charming Mario Morelli, a classmate she had previously turned down. He eliminated her pursuers and revealed his connections to a powerful mafia family. Mario whisked her away to his family’s mansion, where she met his intriguing relatives and quickly fell for his magnetic father, Don Adrian Morelli—the dangerous and handsome head of the Morelli mafia. Eve’s life was about to take a thrilling turn, mixing danger with undeniable attraction.

After seven years together, Ruby Longley ghosted me the day before we were supposed to get our marriage license. I freaked. While tearing through the city looking for her, I got into a nightmare crash. That night, she finally texted: [Steven cut his wrist. He's really fragile right now. He can't deal with any drama. He needs me at the hospital.] [Let's push the wedding back three years. Don't contact me until then. Let him heal.] [Handle our parents. And don't upset Steven. Just tell them you're the one who got cold feet.] The ER nurse's eyes were red as she pressed my bloody finger to my phone and typed back for me. [The PATIENT is in critical condition. Please come to the HOSPITAL immediately.] A second later, my phone lit up again. Steven Buffrey. Ruby's childhood friend. The social feed showed a photo of two hands locked together, fingers making a heart. In the middle sat a bandage over one tiny scratch. Caption: [She said my life matters more than anything. Bro, quit faking sick and sulking.] Ruby's friends smashed the like button. They called it true love. Not one person said my name. Like tomorrow's marriage license appointment had nothing to do with me. I laughed, bitter and weightless, floating above the ER as my heart monitor flatlined.

It's my first day undercover at my future husband's dessert shop, and chaos walks in with fake lashes and two-inch nails. "I want an ice cream. Heated." I paused. "Just checking... You want your ice cream hot?" She gave me a look like I'd failed kindergarten. "Yes. Hot ice cream. Are you slow?" Deep breath. Zen mode. Customer-first service smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Ice cream has to stay frozen, or it just turns into—well... milk. If you want something warm, we have hot tea or coffee." "I'm pregnant!" she screeched. "Pregnant women crave weird things! Plus, my doctor said I can't eat anything cold! Are you trying to kill my baby and me? Is that what this is?!" People started turning their heads. Fantastic. A whole audience. I kept my voice low. "Ma'am, I can refund you." She suddenly smacked the counter, knocking the scanner sideways. Her nails shot past my face like tiny knives. "What kind of attitude is that?! A pathetic cashier talking back to me? I'll call my husband and get you fired!" Then, she leaned in like she was about to reveal a royal bloodline. "Guess what? I'm the boss's wife." I blinked. If that was true, I really needed to stop thinking about helping my boyfriend to open 3,000 franchise stores.