
Seducing My Fiance's Uncle
"Don't you dare touch me. You bloody monster," Eric whispered glaring at me, which only turned me on the more.
A beautiful smile crossed my lips; luckily for us, his fake mother was so focused on Katherine, she did not know I was fucking her son before her eyes.
"So I am now a monster, huh? That was not what you said yesterday. Or have you forgotten about our hot night?" I asked as I traced my way to his lap again, approaching his groin area.
He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming around. "Damien. I am Katherine's fiancé. your niece" He reminded me as my hands reached his groan, caressing it through the layers of his trousers.
"Yesterday you were Mike's boyfriend, and what did I tell you? I don't give a fuck!," I whispered back. "Now be quiet and try to control yourself" .
Eric's life is thrown upside down when his brother is killed on his coronation day, and he now has to become the king. and he can't because he is gay and he has a boyfriend who he loves dearly, or so he thought until he met Damien Monetro, his fiancée's uncle and his former one-night stand
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Chapter 3
Eric's POV
His house wasn't far from the club, a street away. Sexual tension filled the air as he drove towards his house, his hands still on my dick. My eyes roamed around his body, his abs, his smirk as he glanced at me. His car smelt just like him, danger mixed with sin.
From what I have gathered from the stranger, his name is Damien. That was the only thing I knew. Immediately he drove to his penthouse; he parked his car and stepped out, turning around to open my door.
His rough, masculine hands cupped my cheeks; his eyes met mine, burning with desire and something I can't place my hands on.
The light glowed on his face, revealing his clear olive skin and blue eyes. My eyes landed on his lips. I sucked in a deep breath. A rush of desire filled me as I stared at his full lips.
A smile graced his lips. " I was right. You are actually beautiful." My heart skipped a bit as I stared at him.
A red hue covered my cheeks. Maybe because I wasn't used to compliments. Mike never complimented me. He only showered me with praises when I sent him money and took him on secret vacations.
He denied having a girlfriend in public and would go as far as kissing a girl, and when I asked, he told me it was to cover up. Besides, from time to time, he would love to have varieties to himself. And here was a handsome stranger calling me beautiful.
I opened my mouth to say a word, but he crashed his lips into mine almost immediately, his breath rushing into my mouth as our tongues rolled against each other, screaming out our desire, lust for lust, sin for sin, and danger for danger.
His lips consumed me wholly, making me forget the world I lived in, swallowing the pain with every kiss he placed on my neck. I let out a moan when his lips came in contact with my neck.
He pulled back and stared at me for a while. "Fuck! What the hell are you doing to me?" he asked in a soft voice.
I shrugged and kissed him; I liked it if I was being sincere. The guilt has died at the bar. Mike did not come. He gave up on me.
He wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his erection rub against mine as he carried me to his bedroom, planting soft kisses on the way. Immediately we went there, and he gently laid me on the bed and started unbuttoning my shirt, taking a few breaks to kiss the hell out of me before continuing.
He helped me unbuckle my trousers, pulling them down, leaving me with only my pants and a huge erection. His eyes stared at my whole body, drinking me in with desire.
His eyes landed on my dick, the tension thickened, and desire danced round the air. "Fuck me," he muttered before taking my lips once more, placing kisses on them; his lips found my nipples.
He sucked on them for a while, desire flooding me as a suppressed groan escaped me.
Then, without any warning, my phone's ringing tone filled the air. My heart dropped immediately, knowing fully well that it could be Mike; I stared at his eyes, his cold eyes filled with panic.
He shook his head, whispering "no" to me. I reached for my phone and looked at the caller, "Mike", displayed coldly.
Before I could pick up the call, he dragged the phone from me and threw it.
I glared at him. " I have to go," I whispered as he planted soft kisses on my neck. "Mike is waiting for me," I said.
"No, you won't," he groaned back as he pulled my pants down.
My next word died when his lips came in contact with my tip, licking my pre-cum off me. Guilt died down as desire rushed through my body, breaking every resolution I once had.
"Fuck," I cursed as a groan escaped me. I found myself grabbing his hair, burning my dick inside his warm mouth. He kept on taking in every inch of me, fastening his pace as my dick hardened more. I could feel myself getting close.
I closed my eyes and fell back as the rush of desire flowed towards my dick. He wrapped his arms around my neck, strangling me not too much; his pace fastened the more I was close, too close.
"I'm about to cum," I whispered. He nodded, and in a split second, my seed rushed out, filling his mouth, and to my surprise, he took it and swallowed every drop.
Mike never ever did that; the thought of swallowing someone's cum irritated him, but he begged me to swallow it, and I did because I wanted to satisfy him. I did not want him to leave me. I was so scared of being alone. Without a warning, he turned me to the other side and buried his side dick inside me. "Do well to remember who owns you the next time," he growled.
I closed my eyes as a delicious needle of pain spread through my skin. Settling into me. I could feel his long length as he thrust into me, slowly at first. "Fuck", I groaned, several emotions rushing through me; my heart beat faster as I took in his whole length.
He wrapped his hand around my neck, bending my face to his as he kissed my lips passionately, making the pain so light, replacing the pain with ecstasy. Being with him made me feel light and complete.
forgetting my sorrows in a moment. Made me remember what it felt like to be young without any life scars. "Next time you try leaving me for Mike. Remember that he can never make you feel like that. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, thrusting deeper.
"Yes....Fuck!" I screamed as he hit my G-spot, his pace increasing faster, thrusting deeper than ever, his groans filling the pain mixed with my muffled groans of pleasure. A loud groan escaped his lips as he collapsed on me, his liquid filling me in.
He rolled on to the other side of the bed, gasping lightly before wrapping his arms around mine. I turned around to take in his face , his handsome face.
Then I noticed he still had his clothes on. Cold licked my skin, making me feel strange. There is no way the person who had just given me the best fuck of my life was still in clothes.
I hated this feeling; with what I had felt with him, seeing him in clothes felt like there was a layer separating us.
My hands moved to his belt; he grabbed my hands immediately, stopping me. "Don't," he ordered in a raspy voice. "Why?' I asked in a silent whisper, my hands itching me to go against his will and do it on my own accord.
"I don't want you to," he said and sat up, drawing me closer, wrapping my naked body around his. "
"So you would allow me to touch you next time?" I asked.
He smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he stared at me. "Depends on how well you please me" he said.
A pink hue covered my cheeks. I wanted to say yes, that I would love to come once more, but deep down I knew it was just a one-night stand and that would be all. I am going to go back to my old life where I am the prince. This can't work; besides, I have a chance of still making it up with Mike. I can't leave him for a stranger.
I swallowed hard and pulled away, the realization of my reality hitting me. I just had a one-night stand with a stranger, someone I did not know. What if he decides to report me to someone or he sees me on any board or television and realizes that he had sex with me?
I need to leave now and maybe send people to bribe him. In as much as I wanted to stay with him, I knew this was too risky.
My eyes searched for my clothes that were on the floor. I rushed towards them, picking them up. "Can I get your address?" he asked.
I paused midway, my heart sank "why?"
He rolled off to the other side and lit up a cigarette again, took in a deep inhale with his eyes still on my bare body.
"So I can pick you next time. I would have asked you to stay for one more round but since you are living. your address would be fine with me"
I heaved a sigh. "I can't, and we will not be meeting again."
"What do you want? Is it money? I can give you..." he whispered, his voice filled with a plea.
Anger crawled within me; my eyes widen at the realization that he brought me here thinking I am some prostitute he picked up at the club. He sees me as some gay prostitute that he can own and buy off.
I pushed his hands away from my body almost immediately, twirling around to face him. "No, and just so you know, I am not some street boy you can fuck with whenever you want. I am not a prostitute, and you can keep your goddamn money because I assure you, Damien, I am above your little pay grade." I snapped, walking out on him.
He stood behind, watching me pick my remaining properties, excitement in his eyes. "What's your name? He asked.
I stood by the door, taking in his beautiful face that I would likely never see again, the stranger who, although I liked, I had to forfeit for my throne. Should I give him my name? Or maybe it was just an unwise decision. "Eric", I answered crisply before walking away.
The drive towards the house was an ablation once, filled with unshaded tears, my heart heavy with sadness like I was losing something so precious to me. Luckily my mum was not around to ask me questions.
* * * * * *
The next morning came in a rush; my mum barged into my room to wake me up even before seven. "Get dressed; we are going to visit Katherine's family. Her uncle, who is a mafia don, flew into the country just to see you. So you better be of best behaviour. " She said it with so much excitement that it immediately made me hate the man.
"Mafia? Since when did royalties start mixing with mafia business? I asked.
Since now. Get dressed and learn not to ask any questions. I rolled my eye and heaved a sigh as I got into the bathroom and got dressed. I wore a three-piece suit and trousers, making sure I looked like a prince. My mum and I got into the same car without saying a word till we got to the house.
Katherine's family house was at the outskirts of our town. An old tall building built with expensive intricate Italian designs.
Katherine immediately walked up to the side of my car and stood by the side, watching with eagerness as the guards opened the door for me. "welcome to my home, Prince Eric," she said, giving me a sweet, innocent smile, her blue eyes filled with excitement and expectations.
She was really a beautiful, sweet girl and would have made a beautiful wife. I can see it in her eyes, how pure she is, but unfortunately I can't give her what she wants.
I plastered a smile. "Thank you, Katherine. You look beautiful."
A pink hue covered her cheeks. "Thank you. Please come in," she said, ushering me inside. My mum walked up to her and gave her a brief hug as they exchanged pleasantries. I rolled my eyes almost immediately; nothing irritated me like my mum's fake emotions.
Her mum came to meet us halfway, bowing slightly at me. Immediately we stepped into the house, a familiar smell wrapped around my nostrils. Why did the scent smell so much like damn? But it can't be him. Maybe I might have been mistaken; I can't master my one-night stand's scent in a night.
My eyes scanned the whole room and then fell on the man exchanging pleasantness with my mum, his eyes on mine with a wide smirk. Colour drained from my face, adrenaline rushing through me.
My mouth opened slightly as he walked towards me with my mum by his side. She stood beside me, wrapping her arms around me. "This is my son Damien. The future king of Elorida," she announced.
What the hell! I muttered. My eyes moving from my mum to him.
The way he looked at me, the way his eyes wrinkled at the side, and his rough baritone voice made it evident that he knew who I was. He knew he was the boy he fucked yesterday, and he clearly had no remorse whatsoever.
But as for me, it was worse; my secret was out in the open. I had fucked my fiancé's uncle
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.

7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

8.1
Samira James has two weeks left.
Two weeks until she turns eighteen.
Two weeks until everything changes.
And a few months left trapped in high school with the boy she hates most.
Calvin Simms has been her enemy for as long as she can remember. Popular, untouchable, and the living reminder of a childhood misunderstanding neither of them ever corrected. Their interactions are sharp, heated, and carefully controlled.
Until they aren't.
As months pass, tension replaces silence.
Jealousy replaces indifference.
And lines blur where hatred once lived.
With rivals watching, secrets resurfacing, and temptation growing harder to ignore, Samira must decide if sticking to her rules is worth denying what her body and her heart are already choosing.
Because some mistakes feel too good to stop.
And sometimes...
you don't fall for the person you want.
You fall for the one you swore to hate.

7.5
I was the adopted daughter of the wealthy Ruiz family, but the moment their true heir appeared, I was thrown away like trash.
Not long after being kicked out, my adoptive father and uncle hired a hitman to stage a fatal car crash on Mulholland Drive.
Pinned under an overturned Porsche with a shattered leg, I watched the hitman point a suppressed pistol between my eyes.
"The Ruiz family sends their regards."
Before this, my reputation had already been completely destroyed by a director, a pop idol, and a reality TV star, leaving me blacklisted and universally hated.
My adoptive family didn't just want me ruined; they wanted me permanently silenced to tie up loose ends.
The hitman pulled the trigger, and the original Alicia died in despair, tasting only rain and blood.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand.
Why did the family she loved treat her like a disposable object? Why did those three men maliciously frame her and turn the world against her?
Opening my eyes again, the fear was gone, replaced by an ancient, cosmic indifference.
I, the Arbiter, had taken over this deceased vessel.
Moving faster than the human eye, I crushed the hitman's steel gun with my bare hand and turned his soul into dust.
Looking at the memories of those who wronged this girl, I signed a contract for the very reality show they were starring in.
Since I borrowed this body, taking out the trash is a required courtesy.

8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.

7.3
While I was pregnant, my husband held a party downstairs for another woman's son.
Through a hidden mental link, I overheard my husband, Don Dante Rossi, tell his consigliere he was going to publicly reject me tomorrow. He planned to make his mistress, Serena, his new mate.
An act forbidden by ancient law while I carried his heir.
Later, Serena cornered me, her smile venomous. When Dante appeared, she shrieked, clawing her own arm and blaming me for the attack.
Dante didn't even look at me. He snarled a command that froze my body and stole my voice, ordering me from his sight as he cradled her.
He moved her and her son into our master suite. I was demoted to the guest room at the end of the hall.
Passing her open door, I saw him rocking her baby, humming the lullaby my own mother used to sing to me.
I heard him promise her, "Soon, my love. I'll sever the bond and give you the life you deserve."
The love I felt for him, the power I'd hidden for four years to protect his fragile ego, all turned to ice.
He thought I was a weak, powerless wife he could discard. He was about to find out that the woman he betrayed was Alessia De Luca, princess of the most powerful family on the continent.
And I was finally going home.