Sugar Style Novels & Stories

My older sister Jenny and I both gained weight easily, so our mother made the decision that we could eat nothing but the diet meals she made. I followed her rules as best I could. I did not even dare drink an extra drop of water. But when I stepped on the scale a month later, I weighed three hundred pounds. I rushed into Jenny's room and found her in a tight dress posing in front of the mirror. She smiled at me. "Shannon, does this dress look good on me?" Then, I saw the number on her scale. I could hardly believe it. She was down to ninety pounds. I suspected something was wrong with Mom's diet meals, so I watched everything she did, from buying groceries to cooking. As soon as my meal was ready, I carried it straight to my room so that no one could do anything with it. Another month passed, and my weight climbed to five hundred pounds. Stretch marks covered my body, and my blood pressure reached two hundred. I lost my job because of my weight, my boyfriend dumped me without warning, and my health problems tortured me. I fell into deep despair. I refused to eat Mom's meals anymore and demanded that they take me to the hospital for gastric sleeve surgery. By then, I weighed eight hundred pounds. I had severe hypertension, high blood sugar, high cholesterol, and advanced heart failure. On the second day after the surgery, I died at home from a severe infection. When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to the day Mom first started making our meals…

My mother was my father’s sugar baby. Every year, he would hold her in his arms and promise, “Wait for me. Next year, I’ll marry you.” He said it for five years. In the end, he married a woman from his own social circle instead. My mother never got the wedding she dreamed of. After that, she became unstable and cruel. She used me as a way to get my father’s attention. “Go. Call your father and tell him you’re sick. Tell him to come see you.” But my father only frowned and yelled at me. “You’re already learning to lie from your mother at such a young age? Always haunting me like this. Disgusting.” They blamed all the anger they had for each other on me. Later, my father’s wife gave birth to a son. He became the perfect husband and father in everyone’s eyes. My mother only grew worse. She hit me harder and harder, all just to make my father come look at her once. When I was seven, I fell down the stairs and broke my leg. I begged my mother to take me to the hospital. She slapped me hard across the face. “What are you pretending for? You fall once and suddenly your leg is broken? You’re just like your irresponsible father. You were born to make me suffer.” My father rushed over, but he only shoved my mother to the floor in irritation. “If you use this little bastard to fake being sick and trick me again, don’t expect another cent from me.” Their screams and sobs tangled together. I lay on the cold floor, slowly losing consciousness. This time, could they finally stop fighting?

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

Billionaire Adi Grenier has silently loved the girl since he was a young teenager. But due to the secrets that he had to burden in his early twenties, he never thought of pursuing her watching her from afar. And so he can only look on as she goes from a happy girl to a woman whose eyes only hold sadness. Now, he has finally settled all the matters that stopped him from pursuing her and so, he is going to cross every obstacle that stops him from getting her… But what he has not expected is that the person he has to fight is none other than the woman of his heart. Faith Heming is not going to risk her heart again.The walls around her heart are not going to be broken down. Not even by the one man who has always held her heart. Excerpt: Allie walked over to the couple, "You really are something, Faith. I need to know your secret.” Faith asked curiously, "Secret?” Allie sipped from her glass with a smile before she continued, "Hmm. You have three lovers. Your ex-husband still dotes on you and is ready to protect you. Your sugar baby is always following you around like a dog wagging its tail and Adi is not even ashamed of having you on his arm." Adi stiffened at the insult ready to defend her when Faith silently gestured to him and smiled lazily,"Why, it's the se* of course, Allie. You counted my ex-husband, my boy toy, my eye candy but I also have a female partner." As the woman frowned in horror, Adi Grenier could only sip his wine to stop his laughter from escaping… Finally, Allie stomped her foot and glared at Adi, "How can you even be with HER?"

I had just climbed into the armored SUV leaving the Moretti estate when the gatekeeper hurried after me with a black encrypted phone in his hand. "Mrs. Westmore, Don Moretti asked me to give you this." I took it. One unread message glowed on the screen. [Selena only had a scare. I'll come home tomorrow. Don't overthink it.] I stared at it for two seconds, popped out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the rain outside the window. The next day, I had just reached the abandoned shipyard in North Harbor when encrypted messages started hitting my backup phone one after another. [Vivian, where are you?] [Why aren't you home? Where the hell did you go this late?] [Answer me. Don't make me send men all over the city looking for you.] The last one was exactly his style: soft on the surface, arrogant underneath. [Your family survives under my protection. Don't test my patience.] I didn't answer. After countless messages sank without a reply, my husband finally drove to the old Westmore grounds at North Harbor. He knew that if anything was left of my family, I would be there. But when Damon pushed through the broken iron gate, he found no guards, no household staff, and no Westmore men waiting for orders. The old house stood hollow in the rain. Its windows were blown out, the front steps were black with soot, and the air still carried the bitter smell of smoke and gunpowder. Damon grabbed a passing harbor guard by the sleeve. "Where are the Westmores?" The guard looked at him as if he should already know. "Gone. The family was hit two nights ago. Whoever came for them knew exactly when Moretti protection would be pulled from the harbor." "Miss Westmore came back before dawn," the guard added. "She took the black-gold signet, a few boxes of ledgers, and whatever papers survived the fire." "After that, she left. And no one has seen her since."

"I'm 40 you're 21," he whispered softly, his lips grazing my nipple, hot breath sending shivers down my spine as his tongue flicked out, teasing the hardened peak. "I don't care!" I shot back amidst breathy moans, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, pressing his head deeper into my boobs, arching my back to feed him more. "I'm your mum's husband. I'm your stepdad, old enough to be your real dad," he murmured again, his right hand tracing, torturous path down my trembling stomach, dipping between my thighs to brush against my soaked panties. "I said I don't care!!!" I growled, grabbing his wrist and forcing his fingers faster. "Fuck the age, fuck the rules, make me yours!" ______ Adrian Blackwood, the hottest, most dangerously sexy beast I've ever laid eyes on turns out to be my stepfather. You heard that right, my mum's husband! The man who could make me wet with just a single stare, with his towering muscles, tattooed arms, and those piercing gray eyes that strip me bare. One ride in his SUV and I want a real ride. I'm just 21 in college, but he's 40, old enough to be my dad? Who the hell cares! As long as he pins me down, and wrecks me with pleasure that leaves me begging, I'll sin with him every damn night. Taboo? Bring it on. ‘Sinfully Yours, Step Daddy!’ is a boundary smashing blaze you can't read in public or alone (unless you're ready to touch yourself nonstop). Dive into Ava with Stepdad, professor, step dad's best friend, the sugar doctor, Ava's unapologetic slut era, craving daddies. Walk in horny, walk out dripping satisfied. Grab it now, your panties or boxers won't survive! Steamy age gap taboo romance packed with dominance that'll have you screaming for more.