Demi-Dean
13 Published Stories
Demi-Dean's Books and Stories
The Devil Wants Me
Mafia "Lovely, Cara," he whispers, licking and kissing my clit.
I'm twitching, shaking, back arched-
He reaches down and picks up the champagne bottle, pouring out the liquid on my body. I gasp at the sudden bubbling cold.
I try to wriggle away but he holds me down and sucks the champagne, licking me clean, making these filthy delighted noises as he does it.
"I couldn't help myself. You taste too good."
-
Fed up with her abusive husband, twenty-three-year-old Cara Hellington runs away from home and ends up in a notorious bar, destitute, sad, but relieved and free. When she gets into a verbal altercation with the snotty bartender over the ownership of her credit cards, an unlikely savior comes to her aid.
Eros Kazan Alfred.
He's tall, massive, rippling with muscles, and covered with dark tattoos.
Everything Cara is not used to.
Everything Cara is drawn to.
She should run towards the opposite direction, away from him. But she runs right onto his bed.
After a hot sizzling night together, Cara is comfortable and confident in him taking good care of her. But tensions are rising all around them, as significant figures from their past will stop at nothing to bring them both down.
Will they succumb under the wickedly twisted circumstances fate seems to be throwing at them? Touch Me, Daddy [Forbidden Ties Sensual Collection]
Romance Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica.
This is an erotic boxset containing fifteen stories of irresistible steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you.
Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn.
-----------------------
"Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me."
"Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare.
"You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?"
My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes."
"Say it. I want to hear every word."
"I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..."
He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?"
The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl.
"So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."
All For You, Daddy [Forbidden Desires Sensual Collection]
Romance Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica.
This is an erotic boxset containing yet another twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you.
Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn.
---------
"You think I'm a softie?" My voice is deceptively gentle when the rest of me is so hard. "Do you know why I pulled over?"
"Why?" she says, seeming to hold her breath.
Don't you dare. She's innocent. I say the words, anyway, however. I want to drive her away. Now. She caught me with my walls down and that is the ultimate invasion, made worse because I crave it happening again. "I pulled over because I know tight pussy when I see it." I frame her jaw with my right hand, tilting her blushing face up toward mine. "I'd like to fuck you on all fours, right here in the middle of the road, little girl. Rough as you can stand. Still think I'm a softie?"
"No," she gasps, the green of her eyes deepening to a forest shade. "I don't."
I ignore the regret stabbing me in the neck. "Good." Daddy's Naughty Girl [Forbidden Fruit Sensual Collection]
Romance Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica.
This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you.
Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin.
----------
“I made myself tight for Big Daddy,” she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Every morning and night, I clenched it really tight, released, clenched, released…”
As she says the words, her pussy performs the actions until I’m panting into the space between us, shudders wracking my body.
“FUCK,” I growl, sparks blinking in front of my vision. “You’re going to get it now, little girl.”
All I can do after that is make her lose her mind.
That’s the only way to define it.
I shove her legs open on the bed and do exactly as I threaten. I rail her like a dog, slamming my cock in and out of her wet blonde cunt. She screams and claws at me, begging me not to stop, rocking her hips up to meet my hectic drives, my grunts loud enough to be heard in the room next door, along with her calls of my name—and in this moment, I want that. I want everyone in this hotel to know I get to fuck this supple nineteen-year-old. I want them to know she primed her pussy for me so it would be extra snug. And I can’t believe my luck. Whether I’m paying or not, I can’t believe she’s allowing my big, hairy body on top of her smooth, tiny one for a single second. That she’s not only spreading her legs for me, but she’s also moaning with pleasure, not put off by my aggression at all. No, it’s making her hot.
“Harder, Big Daddy. Punish me.”
I’m not sure how I stop myself from ejaculating. Maybe it’s the intense need to stay locked inside her perfection for as long as possible, but somehow, I hold back. Long enough to pull out of Lia and flip her face down, yanking her hips up and back into my lap. I re=enter her with my purpling cock, our flesh slapping madly as I raw dog her from behind, employing not a hint of gentleness. She doesn't want gentleness, either. Not my girl. She tilts her hips back and asks for it harder. Faster. Resisting The Playboy's Charm
Billionaires Carol:
Life was never a bed of roses. At least for me. Abandoned at birth by both parents, and made to go through too many foster homes, I had to put in twice the amount of effort of my peers. Both in education, and in my career. I love children, and I've aspired to land a very good job as a social worker who cares for kids for as long as I can remember.
When New York's most eligible bachelor and billionaire Evans Armstrong propositions me to become a nanny for his nephew, I'm speechless. Out of every options he had available, he choose me. And his nephew is the sweetest boy I've ever encountered. Maybe, just maybe I can achieve my dreams after all.
Evans:
Life was never the same ever since my sister Serena died, leaving me with her son Brandon. Each day that passes, I strive to be a better man, and provide for Brandon everything he needs. He's a smart kid, and he deserves the best. Which is why I go out of my way in searching for a suitable nanny to tend to him, since my efforts can only go so far.
When I see Carolina for the first time, she's striking. And her polite demeanor has a ripple effect on young Brandon. I know immediately that she's the right one for him.
She would make a wonderful nanny.
And perhaps, a wonderful wife. Billionaire's Baby Project
Billionaires When her hot, overbearing, but charming boss gets a hold of her diary, and offers to grant her greatest wish for a child, Twenty-two-year-old Felicity Graham is furious, and hesitant.
For one, he's her employer.
Two, she wonders if he truly loves her, or if his offer is just based on his father's pressure on him to produce a heir.
—
Cold, reclusive Shawn Colby has hit a dead end. Undeniably Chicago's most eligible bachelor and a well-known business tycoon, he could have anything his heart desired. Women, cars, numerous houses if he wanted.
When his overbearing father demands that he settle down and produce an heir, Shawn can't think of anyone else but Felicity — his calm, sweet personal assistant.
When he gets hold of Felicity's diary, and finds out that her greatest dream is to have a child of her own, he propositions her. But Felicity is furious, and hesitant. Besides being Shawn's assistant, she's close to his family as well, and is aware of the pressure he's under to bring forth a heir.
What happens when a business trip up-turns their lives? Can Shawn prove that he truly loves her for her, pressure aside? The Mafia's Crazy Obsession
Billionaires "I think you enjoyed at least part of your punishment last night, sweetheart."
"No," I whispered, my voice barely audible, my eyes still on his hand, on his fingers as they drew small circles that made my toes curl on my exposed, sensitive skin.
He moved closer to me, making a small gasp push past my lips as I looked up, our gazes colliding.
"Relax. Do you know what the fun part is, Lana? It doesn't always have to be a punishment. It could be something... exciting too. Something you'll most definitely like."
—
To save her entire family from the Stravkos Mafia - which was the most powerful Mafia family in Tuscany, Italy - Then sixteen-year old Solana Williams agrees to take her sister's place and becomes a sacrificial lamb - becoming Abel Stravkos' wife.
Theirs is just a mere marriage of convenience, but now older, wiser and twenty-three, Solana vows revenge for all they did to her family by making Abel's life a living nightmare.
Abel Stravkos does not need a wife, but with his cold-hearted father handling the helm of affairs, he's helpless to object. His heart isn't tied to this strange, beautiful, vengeful woman who's been forced down his throat. But the line between love and hate is thin, and Solana's staunch disobedience to his orders fuels his need to control her in every way possible.
Driven by revenge, and an undeniable passion sizzling just beneath the surface, it's only a matter of time before their attraction for each other becomes apparent, much to the dismay of his father as well as both internal and external forces trying to pull them apart.
Will they ever rise above obstacles lodged in their paths and get their happily-ever-after? The Mafia Don's Captive
Billionaires "I'll do anything!" she pleads, grabbing my hands. "I'll do anything. Just let him go. He made a mistake."
"That's not an excuse. It was a costly mistake."
"Please. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all."
I let the silence hang in the air between us as I think carefully, my eyes drawn to how firm and full her tits are. "Anything, princess?"
She lets go of my hands and straightens, raising her chin. I watch as she swallows nervously. "Y-Yes. Anything at all."
I raise my fingers to her face, smearing my thumbs with her tears. I trail them down her strong jaw, to her throat, over the small hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest, stopping between her tits. I circle the spot quietly while she holds her breath, perhaps in anticipation.
"Would you let me fuck you, Titania?"
—
Fiesty, yet innocent Titania Williams is best known for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and this time she's getting more than she bargained for. When her dear Uncle Patrick betrays one of the most powerful Mafia Lords in New York, Kristoff Stavkros, Titania is caught unexpectedly in the underworld web of crimes and deceit. To save her uncle's life, she makes Kristoff an offer.
She'll be his for a month. Thirty days, he owns her body.
Stupid, right? But Titania plays by the rules.
But how can she come out victorious when Kristoff keeps changing the rules and is hell-bent on making her his forever? You might like
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair
Fonz Nadherny I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him
SHANA GRAY I died on a Tuesday.
It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father.
I was twenty years old.
He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant.
He chose her. He always chose her.
And then, I woke up.
Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for.
This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice.
He didn't know he was talking to a ghost.
He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal.
He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder.
That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry.
She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts.
So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie.
I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane.
But I will not be a victim.
This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter.
This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain. The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle
G~Aden I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body.
My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in.
I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then-
I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses.
Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down-
He's still hard.
Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance.
"You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless.
"I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake.
"Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat.
And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm.
"Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine.
***
Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge.
She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez.
He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her.
What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated.
Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty?
And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?
Jilted Pet Becomes The Mafia Queen
Cornelia When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god.
Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires.
He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family.
In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet.
Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it.
That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed.
I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property.
After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash.
So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good.
A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy. He Chose The Mistress, Losing His True Queen
Lively 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. He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass
Gavin I was the "Ice Queen," the perfect Mafia wife who managed the De Luca empire's millions while my husband, Alessandro, played the part of the feared Underboss.
I thought my silence and competence earned me respect.
That was until I woke up in the estate's medical bay with a shattered leg.
My saddle had snapped mid-jump. It wasn't wear and tear; it was sabotage.
Lying in the dark, feigning sleep, I heard Alessandro whispering outside my door with his enforcer.
"The buckle was filed down," the enforcer said urgently. "Aria tampered with it. She could have broken her neck."
I waited for Alessandro’s rage. I waited for him to execute the mistress who tried to kill his wife.
Instead, his voice was cold and dismissive.
"Bury it," Alessandro ordered. "It’s just a broken leg. Aria was upset about the credit cards. She just wanted to teach Katarina a lesson."
A lesson.
My husband wasn't just cheating on me; he was protecting the woman who tried to cripple me.
Three days later, at the Family Charity Gala, he humiliated me publicly. He outbid me for my grandmother's heirloom necklace and clasped it around Aria's neck while I watched from my wheelchair.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just a piece of furniture to be rearranged.
He didn't know I had bugged the entire villa while I was recovering.
He didn't know I had the recordings of what Aria was really doing when he wasn't looking.
I gripped the USB drive in my pocket and signaled the tech team to lock the doors.
The statue was broken, but he was about to learn that shattered ice is sharp enough to slit a throat. The Waitress Is Actually The Mafia Queen
Priorities I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi.
I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet.
The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress.
Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet.
The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly.
I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world.
Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked.
He chose to sacrifice me to save face.
"Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves."
He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress.
He thought he was showing strength.
He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors.
Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers."
"And send the wolves." Spring Beneath the Grave
Rabbit Elora Griffiths was on her way to drop her daughter off at school when her husband's enemies opened fire in the street.
The bodyguard her husband had personally assigned to protect them abandoned the car the instant the shots rang out.
Mother and daughter were hit multiple times, teetering on the brink of death.
Elora frantically called her husband, Rodger Griffiths, but he didn't answer.
Her brother, Hugh Dale, arrived just in time and saved them both.
"How could this happen? Didn't Rodger assign someone to protect you?" Hugh asked.
Elora sobbed uncontrollably, "The bodyguard ran away!"
On the way to the hospital, Elora kept trying Rodger's number, desperate.
One call after another...
Finally, on the ninety-ninth attempt, the line connected. On the other end was the female bodyguard, trembling, her voice barely holding back tears.
"Rodger, it's really not my fault!
There were so many assassins. I would've died if I tried to stop them! I was so scared..."
Elora held her breath, waiting for her husband's wrath to thunder down.
But Rodger just sighed.
"Forget it. The important thing is you're safe," he said.
Meanwhile, Elora's daughter took her last breath in her arms.
The pain was suffocating.
She held her daughter close as her body went cold and stiff, teeth gritted in fury, "Hugh, I'm divorcing him! I'll cut off every single arms shipment to the Griffiths family from the largest arms company in Crownport!" 
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