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Romans d'amour

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Lizzy

  • Chapitres débloqués : 267
  • Critiques de romans : 3

Mes romans préférés

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  • Auteur : SunScar9
  • Statut : En cours
  • Classification par âge : 18+
  • 👁 4K
  • 9.9

[Urgently Need Breastmilk. Compensation Negotiable.] Eileen Sharp used to be a straight-A student with a bright future until she met her ex-boyfriend and became pregnant. Now a single mother, Eileen needed a second job to make ends meet. Eileen laughed. This was either a joke or a forty-year-old man with a weird kink. She wanted to scroll away, but she had bags of breastmilk in the fridge, and money was tight. Did it matter what the old man did with it, anyway? She risked getting kidnapped. The moment she saw him, she was dazzled. . Billionaire Dominic Presley was engaged to Hollywood’s sweetheart. He had all the money in the world, but it couldn’t buy his infant son formula he could keep down. His fiancé would rather die than breastfeed, choosing to go on a trip instead of staying with their son. Dominic needed a miracle. It was a sweet angel with bags of breastmilk in her arms. The attraction was instant. Can Dominic ignore his growing attraction to Eileen to save his engagement? This woman would save his son, but she was the forbidden fruit he couldn’t refuse. This wouldn’t end well, he knew. Eileen knew her time with him was short. She was her boss. She hated herself for lusting after a taken man. But she hated herself more for wishing the crying little boy was her own. She loved him at first sight, more than his gorgeous father. And she wished she would never part. Can she leave when the time comes? Or will she steal the family she dreams of?

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  • Auteur : Lana Steele
  • Statut : Terminé
  • Classification par âge : 18+
  • 👁 3K
  • 9.2

I despised Dante Moretti long before he slid that ring onto my finger. Arrogant. Controlling. The kind of boss who could ruin my day with a single clipped order. I hated the way he spoke to me. I hated the way he watched me more. But walking into my hometown with his ring and watching my ex-husband’s face drain of color felt wickedly perfect. The elders wanted to see real love before selling their land. So Dante and I lied. We played the sweet couple. Except Dante didn’t touch me like a man pretending. At the Christmas market, his hand slid down my spine and stopped right where it shouldn’t. At dinner, he whispered against my ear, “If he’s watching, spread your legs a little. Let him see who owns you now.” I should have slapped him. Instead, my body answered him before I could breathe. He kissed my temple too slow and held my waist too tight. When the lights dimmed, he murmured, “Open for me.” “Keep your eyes on me.” “I want you shaking for me, not for him.” Somewhere between hating him and wanting him to wreck me, everything blurred. Because the man who barked orders in boardrooms had me whispering his name in the dark, Christmas lights flickering over his bare shoulders while he swallowed every sound I made. My ex wanted me broken. Dante wanted me ruined, but only beneath him. And the worst part was how easily I let him. Santa didn’t bring me a miracle. He gave me a sin in a three piece suit and I tore the wrapping off with trembling hands.

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