Novel & Cerita Vanessa X Gregory

I was married to one of the city's richest billionaires, but inside his home, I was just a ghost. Damian never once looked at me with love. Never did he touch me with kindness. He didn't see me as a woman, or even a person. I was just… a stand-in. A stand-in while he waited for someone else to come and my heart broke in silence. But the day he walked into our home with his first love, Vanessa, hand in hand it finally broke for good. I found my strength and I placed a signed divorce papers on his desk. Damian scoffed, his eyes cold. “You’ll regret this. You’ll crawl back. Women like you always do.” I thought he was right. I thought I had no one, nowhere to go, and nothing to live for. Until the black car stopped in front of me. That night, three powerful men stepped out, calling me by a name I didn’t even know was mine. Adrian Valehart, a ruthless tycoon whose eyes were as sharp as steel and silenced a room. Nathaniel Valehart, the cold, brilliant lawyer who never lost a case. And Leo Valehart, the superstar adored by millions. They told me I was, their long-lost sister, the only daughter of a billionaire family. I thought they were wrong. But when Adrian gave me shares worth billions, Nathan vowed Damian would walk away with nothing but shame. Leo wrapped his arm around me and declared to the world, “This is my sister, my one and only.” Everything changed And Damian… Damian refuses to let go. He came crawling back, begging for a second chance. “Please, give me another chance,” he said. But my three overprotective brothers wouldn't let him touch me and his pride will not die quietly.

“The one person who makes my life worth living is dying. . .Kelvin is sick with lung cancer and the doctors say he's going to die if we do not begin his treatment immediately," Zara blurted out. “His treatment costs twelve thousand US dollars for the first six months. Now I'm going to lose Kelvin because I can not arrange the money that is needed for his treatment. He's dying and I'm helpless," Zara cried. "Zara? What if I told you that I have the solution to your problem? My company is dying. The only way to save it is to get married and I do not want to do that right now. I am willing to pay the bills you need if you become my fake wife. So the question is, will you, Zara Lawman, accept to be my fake wife?" ___________________________________________________ When love plays a cruel game, what will they do? In the aim to save her beloved Kelvin from dying, Zara accepts a contract marriage. In order to save his company, Oliver takes a fake wife. Everything goes as planned until Zara starts falling for Oliver . Meanwhile, Kelvin’s body starts rejecting treatment. As hard as Zara tries not to love Oliver, she finds herself dreaming of only him. This makes her miserable. As hard as Oliver tries not to fall for Zara who he believes loves her boyfriend, he finds himself wanting only her. Things begin to go south when Vanessa— Oliver's nemesis—does her possible best to destroy whatever he has with Zara. At the same time, Kelvin finds out the truth about Zara’s feelings. Now Zara is forced to chose who she will keep loving and Oliver is forced to do what he believes is the right thing, terminate the contract wedding. Meanwhile, Kelvin is dying. . .

Ava James is barely surviving. She works long exhausting shifts at a luxury fashion store; and still struggles to keep up with the crushing hospital bills for her mother, who is slowly losing her battle with cancer. Love is the only thing keeping Ava together, or so she believes. For three years, Ava has devoted herself completely to Winston Laurent, the charming owner of the elegant Italian restaurant across the street from her workplace. With his soft hazel eyes and warm smiles, Winston seems like the perfect boyfriend. Ava dreams of a future with him, unaware that behind closed doors, Winston has been secretly sleeping with his manipulative brunette manager, Vanessa, a dangerously obsessive woman determined to keep him for herself at all costs. The only person who sees through Winston’s lies is Peter Hale, Ava’s longtime best friend. Peter has stood beside Ava since high school, quietly loving her from the shadows while watching her give her heart to the wrong man. Every time he tries to warn her, Ava dismisses him, believing Peter simply dislikes Winston. But Peter knows something Ava doesn’t: Winston’s betrayal is deeper and darker than cheating. Across the city, billionaire tech CEO Vindell Ashford faces a different crisis. Cold, calculating, and feared in the business world, Vindell has never cared about love or marriage. But when doctors reveal that his mother has less than a year left to live due to terminal heart disease, her final wish shakes him, she wants to see him married and give her grandchildren before she dies. Unable to deny his dying mother, Vindell agrees to find a wife. Not for love, but for a contract.

"You understand what it means for you to be mine, right? "He questions, and I swallow. Never breaking eye contact with him. "No... "I admit with my voice trembling. "If you become mine, "He begins, his tone dropping into a seductive growl that sends shivers down my spine. "You won't just be working for me. Your body will belong to me. I'll do whatever I want with you, whenever I want, and however I want. "He says, and as my back hits the wall my stomach drops. "You're not... planning to sell my organs, are you?" I ask, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "No, David, " "I mean, I'll fuck you whenever, wherever, and however I want. You'll be mine. My personal... plaything. Of course, you'll be taken care of. Shelter, food, Vanessa's bills... Everything. However, your main job will be warming my bed. "He says, and my eyes widen in horror. ***** His job was… ‘simple’. To rob him, and run as far as his resources could take him. He didn't plan to get caught. And even if that was a probability, he never expected to be spared. He never expected Salvatore to spare his life and keep him alive as a boy toy. He also didn't expect his straight self to fall for a man. Especially not one as rough, dangerous, and deadly as Salvatore. Are the feelings reciprocated? Or is David just a toy to Salvatore? This is the question that plagues David as he falls deeper and faster for this dangerous, Italian hot cake. Realizing he would do anything for the unpredictable man he had grown to love. When their dangerous world closes in, David must decide. Will he run, or will he risk everything for the man who could break his heart?

This is a dark romance book which means love will be messy, and intense. ANASTASIA: I’m hopelessly in love with my boss, Kai. The problem? He sees me as a daughter. Worse, his childhood lover, Vanessa is everything I’m not: dainty, soft, and an omega. And I’m just a female alpha. Only good for hard work and battles, never love. I wanted someone to treat me like I’m their whole world, like I hung the fucking moon, goddammit! I need to be their obsession. Preferably, Kai’s. So here’s the plan: impress him by finishing one last mission. Infiltrate the royal palace. Find the eye of Valtaris. Kill the entire royal family. Easy-peasy… except it’s not. Because the rumored ‘Mad’ Prince is absolutely mad—a psycho. And he's made me his new obsession. I swear he’s going to ruin my mission or blow my cover. And when I begged the goddess for a man, I definitely did not mean Zayne. ♧♛♧♛♧♛♧♛♧♛♧♛ ZAYNE: Being a prince is boring. Worse when you're not the heir, just another spare. I'm the royal mess, the black sheep. They say I’m mad, they are not wrong. Father says there's no saving me but I don't want to be saved. Then she walks in. The dark-haired minx and all I see is my salvation, my perfect prey. She’s being groomed to be my brother’s wife, but it's my bed she’ll end up in every night, screaming my name while my brother gives her pathetic puppy eyes during the day. I’ll ruin her. Break her. Taste her tears then call it pleasure. Her sass only feeds the crazy in me, gods help her, cause I will drag her into my darkness until she can't crawl out.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

“Kiss me, Kingsley!” said Rose with her chest rising and falling with anticipation. “Please, please, Rose! You cannot ask me to do that if you don’t mean it,” replied Kingsley. It sounded more like a plea. “I… I really want you to,” gulped Rose. Kingsley grabbed her by her waist and whispered in her ear, “you don’t know what you are asking me to.” “Why are you so reluctant? I know you didn’t want to marry me. If you don’t want to kiss me, if you don’t find me attractive, just say so. You don’t have to be so…” Kingsley cut her off and replied, “Rose! You don’t know this… but if I start, if I start touching you, I won’t be able to stop. I am doing things to you that you have never even thought about. Are you ready?” ***** Rose Woolridge was left at the altar by her boyfriend, Piers Austin. While nursing her broken heart, she found out from her step-mother, Ursa Hewitt, that the ruthless leader of the Mafia gang, Dia Lucrii, would kill her comatose father, Lucas Woolridge, if they didn’t pay him the extortion amount. But instead of money, he needed the daughter of Woolridge to marry him. In order to save her step-sister, Vanessa, Rose married Kingsley Aguilar. She hated Kingsley as he threatened her father, and after marriage, he took away her freedom. But Kingsley has been hiding a devastating secret from Rose, a secret so heart-wrenching that if it came out would turn Rose’s life upside down. But it is only Kingsley who can help her figure out why she has been having panic attacks. He is the only one who can protect her from the enemy coming her way.

Emily Hart has one goal: save her late mother's bakery and open a pastry shop of her own before she turns twenty five. She has never wanted anything from the Whitfield family beyond their weekly order of croissants. Then her father tells her the truth he has hidden for years. He owes the Whitfield family trust a debt so large it will cost them the bakery within the month, unless Emily agrees to something that sounds impossible. Marry Nathaniel Whitfield, the coldest, most unreachable man in Manhattan, for one year. Nathaniel does not want a wife. He wants control of the company his grandfather built, and his grandmother's will has strapped that control to a wedding ring with a thirty day deadline. Every candidate his assistant has vetted wants his money, his name, or his photograph on their arm. Emily Hart wants none of it. She looks at him like he is a person and not a headline, and that terrifies him more than the deadline does. What begins as a transaction, a signature, a rushed courthouse wedding that makes Emily a billionaire's wife overnight, becomes something neither of them planned for. Small kindnesses. A shared umbrella. An accidental‌ laugh in the back of a car. But​ Nathaniel⁠'s ex fia‌ncee Vanessa has not forgotten what she lost, and she is n​ot finish​ed trying t⁠o ta‍k⁠e it back, this time by an​y means necessary. Meanwhile Emi‌ly⁠'s st‌ubbor‌n independen⁠ce and Na‌thaniel's instinct to control everything around him collide again and again, each f⁠ight peeli⁠ng back one more layer of the wa‌lls both of them built. ‍As the year draws on,‍ secrets buried in‌ both​ families start to surface.‌ A‍ hid‌den cla‌use in Eleanor's will. A doc​ument V‍anessa st​i​l‌l h⁠as.