Pillow Chats Mga Nobela at Kwento

When my husband from the arranged marriage lost his memory, I couldn't resist messing with him. “Adrian. Say 'Boss.'“ The man in the hospital bed hugged his pillow and looked up at me like a good little boy. “Boss.” I nodded, satisfied. Perfect. A whole year of marriage, and he never once called me his wife. One car crash, and he'd been demoted to calling me Boss. Adrian and I had an arranged marriage. I did it for my family's dying factory. After the wedding he was colder than the fridge. We slept in separate rooms. He wouldn't eat my cooking and wouldn't take my calls. He even saved my number in his phone as “the Bell girl.” I lived in the Crane house more carefully than the hired help. His mother thought I was poor. His aunt thought I was trash. Adrian thought I was an eyesore. Then came the crash. A clot pressing on the nerves in his brain. The doctor said his mind had rolled back to about six years old. I looked at the man in the bed, clutching my sleeve and refusing to let go, and on the inside, I was glowing. Payback. My moment had finally come. I wanted money. I wanted revenge. I wanted a divorce and a clean getaway.

***Book 1 of the Estranged Souls Series: One Night Marriage!*** Naira loved Zain for as long as she could remember. Being his fated mate was all she had asked for from the Moon Goddess. When this wish went unanswered, and the man she loved found his fated mate, she fell in a void of despair. Unexpectedly, the she-wolf ran away, leaving Zain alone on the wedding altar. Feeling fate was finally on her side, Naira accepted when the man proposed. After a night of consummating their marriage, the she-wolf returned and flew into her husband's arms. "Ira, Jules didn't abandon me. She was kidnapped. I'll give you a check to make up for what happened. So please, sign the divorce paper." Just like that, her dream of their beautiful future shattered into a million pieces. For years, Naira loved in silence. For years, she prayed for him to be hers. But when he finally became her husband, she didn't expect her heart to ache ten times deeper than when he saw her as nothing more than a friend. Swallowing her tears, Naira signed the divorce papers and took a major decision. She was done loving Zain Adeel. She was done with the Moonlit Pack. Packing her bags, she left her pack in the middle of the night. Just as Naira Karim arrived in a new country and decided to put her past behind her, she got a shocking news. She was...pregnant! So much for leaving the past behind... ------------------------------------------------------------- Follow me on my socials! Early releases on Patreon, sneak peeks on Instagram, fun activities, contests, and chats on discord. Patreon: patreon.com/Raising_Moon Discord: https://discord.gg/6kEsGuaqfg @ raising_moon#3913 Instagram: @ raising__moon Follow any of my socials to connect with me!

Haunted by her sister Sofia’s murder, marked by the signature black rose of the powerful Moretti crime family, FBI Agent Elena Rossi goes deep undercover as “Lia Moretti.” Her mission: find the killer and burn the organization from within her greatest obstacle: Dante Moretti, the lethally perceptive underboss who sees through her disguise almost immediately. Instead of exposing her, Dante makes her a twisted offer: her secrets become his to control, and in return, he grants her his protection from the rest of the family, for whom discovery means a death sentence. Forced into his trajectory as his personal project, Elena walks on a razor’s edge between her mission and her survival, while Dante’s cold dominance ignites a dangerous, all-consuming passion. As Elena digs for the truth, she finds her sister’s trail leads shockingly close to Dante himself. Her investigation is a minefield of conflicting clues, betraying her badge and her sister’s memory with every moment she spends in his arms. When a black rose appears on her own pillow a direct threat and her FBI handler forces her to betray Dante, her two worlds violently collide. Exposed and hunted by both the mafia and her own agency, Elena and Dante are thrown together as fugitives. In their raw, desperate alliance, they uncover a truth more shattering than either imagined: Sofia’s death was a message in a secret war within the family, and the real killer is the last person Dante ever suspected. To get justice, Elena must help the man she was sent to destroy and wage a brutal war for the soul of his empire.

"Mmmh" She whimpered against the pillow as he went deeper into her. She grabbed the sheets tight and forced herself not to scream. she didn't want to. "Nooo! Please!!!", her voice cracked in the end. He pulled out of her and went right in again, multiplying her pain. His main intention was to hear her cry of pain as he enjoyed wailing sounds, it sounded like music to his ears and he loved it. He digged in again and didn't pull out this time. instead he started thrusting hard, moving roughly and Galene shook against the bed. "Stop it....please!" She whimpered, but that didn't have any effect on him as he continued with what he was doing. His monster was ruining her system. It went on for a while and finally, He let out a deep grunt. she felt something thick and hot pour inside of her. "Oh...!" She let out a faint whimper as she felt him melt inside her. He pulled out of her and left the bed, Shortly after, his cold and stern voice came. "Get out!". ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Damien; The Ruthless and Merciless Master of the Guthram clan, the biggest and the most powerful clan among the seven clans of the Carran community. Nothing gave him joy more than Wars, swords and blood spilling. Mercy was no where near his books. The villagers served and worshipped him as their god. Nobody dared to utter a word when he spoke. Galene, a 22 years old girl from one of the clans got sold to him by her drunk and gambler father in exchange of his debt. A life full of brightness suddenly became a shadow of grief. Waking up with so much happiness only to realize you've been sold as a sex slave to a man feared by all.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

This is the story of a dying girl. Gracie. And just like every dying person, she had wishes. Infact she had a bucket list of things she wanted to do before she finally dies. * She had cancer of the blood and bone marrow. Chronic lymphocytic Leukaemia. It develops from a type of white blood cell called B cells and it progresses slowly. Symptoms may not show until maybe years for some patients. Her CLL was aggressive and needed chemotherapy treatment early. But it was a little late for her when they discovered. So wth no early treatment, She had just 5 years to live. The hospital became her home. She was given a room there to live indefinitely. She could still recall her dad’s gloomy face while decorating her room. She eventually recovered a little, just like every other days, she found herself retiring to her former routine. Her chats with him. But when she told him she was sick and was gonna die, he kind of took it differently than she expected. He asked her why. And her reply was probably the last message on their chat till this day. If he blocked her or something, she just doesn't know. she could never find him again on social media. She cried for weeks. He was supposed to be her best friend. She was never gonna make peace with Cancer or resign to fate. No way. Eventually she stopped treatment 2 yrs later when she got her independence. No matter the treatment, she would never be able to live as long as she wants anyway. So why prolong the torture? But that was a difficult decision to make nonetheless because she stopping the treatment meant she'd have to die earlier than 5 years. But she’d rather make peace with that as long as she could do whatever she wanted before dying. ..................... It's all about love, drama, regret.

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule. Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next. Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs. … On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart. He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times. Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times. I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room. Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself. On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…" Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.

Mmm, yeah … That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend want me instead?

Born as the younger twin, his destiny in life is to live in his brother's shadow. His beast is strong, the bringer of chaos, and he follows nobody's lead. Ryder leaves home and disappears for almost two years after realizing that his first love had a dark ulterior motive. He starts working as a hunter, killing the supernatural. A near death incident that leads to personal tragedy brings him home where he becomes the Sire of his own lair and sets him on his path for revenge and ultimately finding his own Drakaina. I went back upstairs just as Megan came out of the bathroom sporting a pair of my sweatpants and t-shirt that was way too big for her. “I was going to recommend the sweat pants, it might be big around your waist but your ass will fill it out,” I said as she turned to glare at me. “Meaning what exactly?” she asked me. “It’s just that your ass… never mind,” I said. “Are you saying I have a fat ass?” she asked me. “No!” I said quickly. “Then what?” she asked me as she stood with her hands on her hips. “Just forget I said anything,” I said to her trying to hide my embarrassment. “No! Tell me,” she said adamantly. “Fine! Your ass is perfect for… no I can't, I'm going to sound like a pervert,” I said as the pillow flew across my face. “Ryder!” she yelled her face a bright red. “You asked,” I said and ducked at the shoe heading for my face. “You're such an idiot,” she said as she looked at me, “stop looking at my ass.” “Are you wearing my underwear?” I asked her as I saw the edge of my boxers above the sweat pants.

Elena Vance made a fifty-dollar mistake that cost her her freedom. Believing her one-night stand was a high-end escort, she left cash and a mocking note on his pillow, only to walk into a boardroom hours later and realize the man was Adrian Blackwood, the ruthless "Ice King" CEO. Adrian didn't just hold her career in his hands; he held a cocktail napkin marriage license signed in a tequila haze and her father’s $200,000 gambling debt. "You belong to me for six months," he declared, trapping her in a fake marriage to secure a corporate merger. Elena entered the "gilded cage" of Adrian's penthouse expecting a cold, transactional war of wills governed by strict "no-touch" clauses. She remained loyal only to save her father, unaware that he would eventually betray her to their enemies. But the boardroom battles quickly turned lethal. Victor Kane, Adrian’s bitter rival from MIT, obsessed with erasing the Blackwood legacy, sold the company's debt to the Russian Bratva. Suddenly, the fake spouses were forced into a terrifying reality: becoming FBI informants. The "Ice King" melted into a desperate protector, and the graphic designer sharpened into a survivor. Their bond shifted from a business deal to a sacrificial love, forged in the fires of betrayal. But when a mission to plant a bug at a mob wedding ends in a massacre, they realize the FBI is compromised. Stripped of his billions and presumed dead, Adrian stands in the ashes of his empire alongside Elena. A secret brother watches from the shadows, and the Russian mob is closing in. "We have nothing left," Elena whispered, staring into the dark. Adrian gripped her hand, his eyes burning with a new, dangerous resolve. "We have each other. And now, we run."