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romance

The Van de Reye's Curse

WARNING MATURE CONTENT} RATED 18+ Jordan stands at his desk, arms crossed, still flushed and breathless from minutes earlier when his fingers had been inside her, curling relentlessly until she was seconds from coming apart. He’d stopped the moment she reached for his mouth. Jordan: “You can make me come with your hand in under two minutes, Alex. You know exactly where to touch, how hard, how slow… but you still won’t kiss me. Why?” Alex doesn’t look up from the tablet in his hand. His voice is low, controlled, almost bored—except for the faint tremor beneath it. Alex: “Kissing is unnecessary for pleasure. The body responds to precision. Lips are… inefficient.” Jordan steps closer, heart hammering. She can smell him—pine, copper, something feral that makes her thighs clench. Jordan: “Bullshit. You’re scared.” His eyes finally lift. Black pupils blown wide, gold flecks glowing in the dim light. The hybrid staring back. Alex: “Scared?” He rises slowly, towering over her. One step. Another. Until she’s backed against the desk. “I could pin you here right now. Spread you open. Tongue you until you scream my name and soak my face. I could make you come so hard your legs give out. And I would enjoy every second of it.” He leans in, lips hovering a breath from hers—close enough she feels the heat, but never touching. Alex: “But a kiss?” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “That would mean letting you in. Letting you see the thing inside me that wants to claim you, mark you, keep you until neither of us can breathe without the other. That thing doesn’t do gentle. It devours.” Jordan’s breath hitches. She lifts her chin, defiant. Jordan: “Then devour me. But do it with your mouth on mine first. Or are you only brave when your face is between my legs?” A muscle ticks in his jaw. His hand shoots out, gripping her hip hard enough to bruise—in the best way. He drags her flush against him so she feels exactly how hard he is. Alex: “Careful what you ask for, Jordan. Once I kiss you… there’s no going back.” She smiles, small and reckless. Jordan: “Good. I’m tired of coming alone.” ******* In the glittering, shadowed heart of New York City, Alex Van de Reyes is both predator and prisoner. As CEO of Van de Reyes Enterprises and alpha of an ancient werewolf clan, he rules with icy precision. A hybrid born of a werewolf father and vampire mother—bloodlines that have hated each other for centuries—Alex carries the family's generational curse: any woman's touch ignites searing echoes of betrayal, locking his emotions behind a wall of silence and control. He knows exactly how to unravel a woman’s body—precise fingers, masterful tongue, low growls that vibrate against skin until she shatters—but he has never kissed, never let anyone close enough to claim his heart. Sex is conquest. Vulnerability is death. Jordan Hayes is the opposite: impulsive, grounded, fiercely alive. A mid-level marketing coordinator at his company, she’s dragged into the corporate world’s elite circles by her best friend Elena and never expects the cold, untouchable billionaire to look at her like she’s prey. During a fog-shrouded company hike in the Catskills—hosted with theatrical flair by Alex’s flamboyant older brother Elias—Jordan gets lost. Alex senses the mate bond the instant her scent hits him: city rain, coffee, and something wild that makes his fangs ache. He finds her, saves her, and ruins the moment with brutal honesty. From that second forward, the bond torments them both. He engineers reasons to keep her close—projects, galas, late-night meetings—each encounter charged with forbidden heat. His hands know where to stroke, his lips know where to linger, his tongue knows exactly how to circle and press until she’s trembling on the edge… but he always stops short. No kiss. No words of affection. Only raw, commanding pleasure that leaves her aching and furious. Jordan refuses to be just another body he masters without emotion. She wants the man behind the monster.
Fawn_Vixen · 958 Views

HER TRIALS HIS TEMPTATION

The heavens do not bleed; they burn. When the King of the Skies lost his heart to the earth, his grief shattered the mortal realm. But he did not seek a replacement, he sought a vessel. With a roar of thunder, he reached down and pressed a silver brand into the skin of a newborn babe, a mark that would pulse with a fevered heat as she grew, a constant, aching reminder that her body was never truly her own. For years, she lived as a ghost, an untouchable prize for a God who had not yet come to collect. She was an outcast in a village that feared the storm in her blood, unaware that the mark on her waist was a bridge between her skin and his divine hunger. But the Sky is not the only power that watches her. While the King waited in the heights for his harvest of fire, another voice whispered secrets of bone and blood into her ear. While the world threw stones, she learned the language of the roots and the hidden, thrumming rhythm of her own desire. Now, the child of the storm has grown. She carries the emerald mercy of a healer in her palms and the violet wrath of a God in her veins. She has stepped out of the cage of her childhood and into a realm where her presence is a spark in a room full of powder. She was born to be a sacrifice. She was raised to be a bride. But as the silver mark on her skin begins to burn with a new, predatory intensity, she realizes the King doesn't just want her soul. He wants the woman she has become. The King is watching. His patience is fraying. And the lightning is coming.
Nicoletta_Dera · 10.8k Views