
Hot daddy's best friend
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
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Chapter 1
Fiona's POV
"Bunny, I'm in here," he called. His deep, husky voice echoed faintly from a distance, pulling me in like a magnet. I paced through the red, dimly lit hallway in a spinning motion, trying to find where the voice was coming from.
My heart pounded hard-scared yet curious, terrified yet drawn closer-until I reached an entrance. A bright light spilled through the cracks of a wooden door. His voice came again, clearer this time.
"Bunny, I'm right here. Don't keep me waiting."
I pushed the door open, and our eyes met. The light washed over him, highlighting every sharp line of his body. His sculpted abs flexed as he rose from his seat, and I shamelessly drooled over him from head to toe. Heat stirred inside me; I felt a twitch of longing I could not control.
He walked towards me in slow, commanding steps. In an instant, he pinned me against the wall, his strong hand holding me firmly in place.
"What took you so long? You know I hate waiting," he murmured, tracing my jawline with his long fingers. His piercing gaze burned through the mask covering half his face. I wished desperately to see the rest of him.
"I... I'm sorry," I whispered, my heart racing like a drum.
He leaned in, capturing my lips in a fierce kiss. His hands cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples until a cry slipped out of me.
"Ohh...yes,"
His tongue raided my mouth, hungry, demanding, and I melted into the pleasure he poured into me. My body trembled; my toes curled. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.
"More... please," I pleaded breathlessly, guiding his hand down to my already wet thighs. But he resisted, pinning my hand back to the wall as his lips devoured mine. His groans vibrated against me, teasing, tormenting, igniting. My orgasm built rapidly, and his fingers on my nipples drove me to the edge.
"You'll only take what I give,"he groaned. "My little bunny, I like it when you're at my mercy Fiona," he murmured between my lips as his fingers find my entrance, pinching my clit so hard. I felt a surge of pleasure pulling my orgasm closer.
"Oh... ohhh, I'm gonna cum," I moaned desperately.
Then-
Snap!
The sound jolted me back to reality. My chest heaved as my eyes flew open. My alarm clock buzzed on the bedside table.
Another dream.
My heart sank. For years, I'd been haunted by this recurring dream-always ending at the same point. Always leaving me aching. And worst of all, I never saw his face but his voice never left my head.
I pressed a pillow over my face, muffling the frustrated scream clawing at my throat. My messy room surrounded me-sketch pads and paintbrushes scattered from last night's work. I dragged myself out of bed, groggy but hopeful.
Today was the day I had been waiting for-the day my admission letter from the University of Arts would arrive.
I rushed into the bathroom, then hurried out minutes later, slipping into a dress before racing downstairs.
"Don't be stupid Fiona, stop running. You've been warned several times," my mother snapped, her voice sharp.
"Yes, Mum," I answered quickly, slowing my pace.
"And why are you just waking up at this hour?" my father's deep voice followed, laced with disapproval.
"I slept late," I mumbled.
"Again? I think it's high time we take that device from you until you learn to sleep early," he scolded, glaring at me over his breakfast plate.
"But Dad... I'm sorry," I whispered.
Mr. and Mrs. Harry-my parents. Strict to the bone. I used to think being an only child would make them spoil me. Instead, my life was a prison of endless rules. No friends. No outings. No television for more than an hour every three days. Limited use of my phone. And countless household chores. My father showed mercy occasionally, but my mother? She never missed a chance to make my life harder.
Sometimes, I wondered if they were really my parents. But none of that mattered now. Once my admission came through, everything would change.
"And where are you going?" my father's voice cut through my thoughts as I approached the door.
"My admission letter is supposed to arrive today, remember?" I replied, my lips curving into a cautious grin. I dared not smile too wide, or they would think I was being careless with my joy.
For a moment, silence engulfed the air before I finally got the chance to step outside.
The courier van had just driven away when I reached the mailbox. My heart leapt as I saw the envelope with my name on it. Excitement surged through me-I almost tore it open right there. But tradition forced me to turn back. My father had to be the one to open it.
I ran back inside and handed it to him. He didn't delay, surprisingly. Tearing it open, he read silently while I tried to act calm, sitting at the table.
"Hmm... for once, I'm proud of you," he said.
My chest filled with fire. I got in. My mind screamed it, though I kept my body composed.
"Thank you, Dad," I replied softly.
"You did your best," he added, "but we'll see if you can keep up with the work and not be an embarrassment to us." Mum concluded.
"I won't, Mum," I answered quickly when she scoffed, her words sharp enough to cut but I was used to it already.
The rest of the morning passed quietly. I cleaned the dishes, then slipped back to my room, closing the door behind me-I screamed silently, giggling and wiggling at the same time.
Excitement bubbled inside me. I picked up my phone to search for the university pictures, and my imagination soared. I sketched one of the buildings in my pad, dreaming of my first day, until the doorbell rang downstairs. I hurried downstairs. The moment I opened the door, a pleasant, familiar scent wrapped around me.
"Fiona, dear, how are you?" the woman asked warmly.
"Good morning, please come in," I said politely. "I'll get my parents." I muttered.
But my eyes kept stealing glances at the two familiar strangers, especially the man, they seemed to be a couple.
Moments later, my parents joined them.
"Oh, Marian, Jalen-welcome! Please, make yourselves comfortable," my father said, his smile wide, and unusual.
It startled me to see both of my parents beam so openly. The couple were family friends. The man-Jalen-was my father's best friend.
My heart skipped as I looked at him. I remembered that charm, that presence. I had admired him since childhood, before he married Marian and stopped visiting. Yet, seeing him now, the pull toward him felt just as strong, maybe even stronger.
"Fiona has grown so big," Jalen remarked with a smile.
And my heart froze.
"That voice..." I thought.
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7.9
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In Dangerous Desires, immerse yourself in a realm where lust overrides reason and pulses thunder on the brink of ecstasy and devastation. Each tale strips bare a new facet of craving-where adversaries melt into entangled lovers, hidden truths threaten to shatter kingdoms of control, and erotic hunger flares in the most forbidden corners.
From dominant CEOs and eager assistants locked in charged, sweat-slicked power plays, to tycoons and subordinates blurring the lines of authority with breathless, illicit touches, every clash throbs with electric tension. Foes prowl like flame to tinder, sparking an unstoppable blaze of chemistry that demands skin-on-skin surrender.
Venturing deeper into the forbidden, twilight beckons with supernatural seduction-enigmatic lovers, eternal seducers, and ethereal entities lure mortals into bonds that tangle terror with throbbing arousal. In these realms, desire doesn't merely stir-it devours, leaving bodies quivering and souls utterly claimed.
Each story in this anthology throbs with peril, allure, and the exquisite rush of yielding to the forbidden ache-one that shouldn't ignite, but consumes without mercy.

9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?

8.7
I was dying in a cold hospital bed, listening to the monitor count down my final seconds.
As a ghost, I watched my own funeral. My popular friends and wealthy family soon moved on, but one person stayed.
Cas Riley. The invisible outcast from the back of my history class.
He brought a white rose to my grave every single day, withering away until he collapsed on the frozen ground, dying of a broken heart for a girl who barely knew his name.
Opening my eyes again, the hospital smell was gone. I was reborn back in my high school classroom.
I immediately tracked him down, only to witness the brutal hell he was trapped in.
He was humiliated by a cruel foreman for pennies, violently slapped by his uncle over his sick mother's medical money, and forced into bloody street fights.
He was starving, covered in bruises, and completely alone.
When I tried to buy him medicine and step into his life to protect him, he violently pushed me away in the pouring rain.
"Stay out of my life! To protect you, I have to fight, and when I fight, I lose everything!"
He wasn't rejecting me out of hate. He was terrified that his dark, violent reality would drag me down with him.
Standing soaked in the rain, my resolve hardened like steel.
Gentle kindness wasn't going to save him from this hell.
To protect the boy who died for me, I had to become ruthless enough to tear down his entire rotten world and build him a new one.

7.7
Five years ago, Zaria Blackthorne lost everything. Framed as a traitor's daughter, she watched her parents die, was betrayed by her fated mate, Callum Nightbane, and cast into prison-only to be saved by a monster who wanted to ruin her. That night, she should have died. But fate had other plans.
Now, she's back. No longer the naïve girl who once begged for mercy, she has been reborn as Celeste Draven, the temptress of Nightbane Academy. With a new identity, a rare bloodline that makes her irresistible, and a body forged for seduction, she is ready to dismantle the lives of those who betrayed her-one sinful encounter at a time.
But revenge comes at a cost.
Three powerful men are obsessed with her and they are a tool in her revenge games and then she realised the deeper she played, the harder it becomes to keep the men in control.
And what do you think will happen when the truth comes to light, and she discovered she was being played herself? Will she sacrifice her love for vengeance or allow her enemies to burn and claim the throne for herself?
Dive into this story of betrayal, revenge, reverse haram, and obsession, where no man actually owns Zaria Blackthorne.

8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.

7.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."