1428 Book(s) Related to his curvy obsession bwwm

Three years ago, I was the sole surviving legendary mage of Ash Valley. To fulfill my comrade's dying wish, I married into the Robert family, becoming a despised and bullied son-in-law . For three years, I endured torment and humiliation; my entire family treated me like trash . My wife handed me divorce papers , then accepted the marriage proposal of a nobleman. On my wedding day, I walked into the hall in old clothes, and everyone laughed, thinking I was crazy. Until I shattered all magic with a wave of my hand, my legendary presence overwhelming everyone present, the woman who had once despised me finally cried and asked me: Why did you lie to me?

“Don’t worry. She can’t see a thing.”

The familiar male voice came from behind the half-open door.

“So she wouldn’t know even if I kissed you right now?”

A woman laughed softly and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Only a few steps away, Rosalie watched the man she had loved for years lower his head and kiss another woman.

What they didn’t know was that her sight had returned.

The betrayal wasn’t even the cruelest part. When Rosalie checked their records, she discovered that the marriage she believed was real had never been legally registered. The man who had promised to protect her forever had used her blindness to cheat right in front of her—and now he planned to marry another woman and steal everything that should have belonged to Rosalie.

If he could give her a fake marriage, she could come back with a real husband.

So Rosalie married Cassian Thackeray.

The moment they signed the papers, she recognized him.

He was the firefighter who had once carried her out of a burning building—the mysterious man she had been searching for ever since.

But Rosalie said nothing.

Cassian believed he had married a fallen heiress who simply needed a legal husband. Rosalie believed he was nothing more than a dangerous, emotionally untouchable fire chief.

Their rules were simple: separate bedrooms, separate lives, and absolutely no falling in love.

But Cassian was always there when someone tried to humiliate her, his arm locking possessively around her waist.

“I’m her husband,” he warned. “Who gave you permission to touch her?”

And when Rosalie treated his injuries late at night, her fingers traced the hard planes of his bare, heated chest. It was supposed to be medical. Nothing more.

Until he trapped her between his arms, their mouths barely an inch apart.

“Your hands are shaking,” he murmured.

“It’s a professional response.”

“Is that so?” His palm slowly closed around the back of her neck, his voice dropping lower. “Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

Again and again, they tested the boundaries. Again and again, they almost kissed—only to stop at the final inch.

Then Cassian came home before dawn, smelling of smoke and cold rain, and found the lamp she had left burning and the milk she had kept warm for him.

“You waited for me all night.”

“I forgot to turn off the light.”

Cassian stared at her, his thumb pressed against the frantic pulse in her wrist.

“Rosalie, your body is much more honest than your mouth.”

She was beginning to forget that their marriage was only a contract. She was beginning to forget that she had married him merely to reclaim everything stolen from her.

But then Cassian’s signature appeared on confidential corporate documents.

And Lucian Thackeray—the mysterious billionaire heir who never showed his face in public—had the same unforgettable gray-blue eyes as her husband.

As Rosalie begins digging into the man sleeping just one room away, she realizes Cassian has never told her who he truly is.

And their marriage may never have been an accident.

BLURB

“I don’t love Selena anymore. All I see is a broken shell…a barren woman.”

Those words, spoken by my husband behind the closed door of his study, were the jagged shards of glass that finally shattered my world.

For years, I endured the physical agony of ten miscarriages and five failed IVFs, believing Franklin was the anchor holding me together. I didn’t know I was actually the anchor dragging him down.

He wants a divorce.

He wants a woman who can give him the family I couldn't.

He wants to be free of the burden of a wife who is falling apart.

But Franklin doesn't know my biggest secret. It isn't just my womb that is failing; it’s my entire body.

I am dying.

Stage four cancer is aggressive, and my time is measured in hours, not years.

I could tell him the truth.

I could watch him stay out of pity, trapped by guilt for the rest of my numbered days, but I love him too much to let him become my martyr.

So, I’ve made him a deal.

I will sign the divorce papers and walk out of his life forever but first, I want twenty-one hours.

One hour for every year we’ve known each other.

One last day to pretend we are still the awkward intern and the protective man who fell in love.

He thinks he’s spending these hours saying goodbye to a woman he no longer wants.

He has no idea he’s actually saying goodbye to a woman who will be dead before the ink on our divorce papers is even dry.

Twenty-one hours of lies.

Twenty-one hours of love.

And then, I’ll let him go.

Forever

On my birthday, my fiancé pushed me off a yacht to make another woman laugh.
Miles Hart was Boston's most notorious heir. I had loved him for three years. I had said yes when he proposed.
I nearly drowned as a child. And he knew I was terrified of deep water. I had told him I didn't want a birthday party at sea — he talked me into it anyway.
I had trusted him enough to step aboard. Even when I saw Lila Crossamong our friends, I told myself it was just Miles being Miles.
It never once crossed my mind that he would hurt me.
The push came without warning. One moment he was beside me; the next, the deck tilted and the water closed over my head.
I surfaced once, choking, and saw Lila at the rail in her white dress.
She covered her mouth, but I could see her smile. Miles laughed beside her.
"Nora! Come on," he called. "Lila's had her fun. You can stop pretending now."
I tried to tell him I couldn't swim. Water filled my mouth instead. I kicked toward the yacht, but it drifted farther away.
"Miles, I think she's really drowning!" someone shouted.
A life ring hit the water beyond my reach. Then the hull and the faces at the rail disappeared.
I remember hands hauling me over the rail, someone pressing on my chest, seawater in my throat, and then nothing.
I woke in a hospital bed with a pounding headache. The room smelled of disinfectant. Miles hurried to me and took my hand.
"Nora. Thank God. I thought you weren't going to wake up."
I pulled my hand free and stared at him.
"Who are you?"

I'm two months pregnant with Tristan's baby when Brielle, the woman he'd do anything for, shoves me down the stairs.

She calls it an accident. I lose the baby.

I beg my husband to do something about it. Instead, he shields her and turns it around on me.

"Brielle saved my life in that fire. The whole Merrick family owes her. So drop it."

That debt. Always that debt.

Three years. No matter how many times Brielle humiliates me, degrades me, Tristan only ever has one answer: "I owe her my life."

But the truth about that fire? I'm the only one in the world who knows it.

I tried to tell him once. He laughed in my face. "Adeline, you're so desperate for attention you'd make up something like that?"

So I shut my mouth. Buried the truth. Buried whatever was left of my heart along with it.

The man I trusted with my life just handed my child to the woman who killed them, and called it loyalty.

I'm done.

I pull up the number I blocked three years ago and hit call.

"Dad. I'll take over the company. I'll go through with the engagement to Everett. But I have one condition. I want Tristan and Brielle ruined beyond recovery. Nothing and no one left."

“You thought you could walk away from me, Rosella?”
He pinned her against the glass wall of his office, the city lights glittering below like witnesses to her downfall.
His fingers curled around her throat as he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“I’m going to take back what you stole, Rosella. Every night. Every moan. Every broken little plea you can’t help but make.”
“And by the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember a life that didn’t revolve around me.”
*
Rosella Summers never did reckless things.
Until one night, she fell into bed with a stranger.
Who turned out to be her ex.
Loving Thorn Rockwell was the biggest risk she ever took. The heir to the Rockwell empire. A blazing-hot racing icon. And a man born so far from her struggling world, loving him felt like trying to catch starlight with bare hands.
Six years ago, they were inseparable.
Then she left. Broke his heart. Disappeared without a trace.
She told herself it was the right thing—that walking away would save him.
But she was wrong.
Now Thorn is back. And he’s her new boss.
The soft boy she once loved is gone. In his place stands a cold, vengeful monster. A man who looks at her not with love, but with the promise of destruction.
He wants to ruin her. Humble her. Have her. Preferably beneath him.
But Thorn doesn’t know the whole truth.
Rosella isn’t just protecting her own heart anymore.
She has Thraia—her five-year-old daughter, her whole world, and a secret that could shatter everyone if Thorn ever finds out.
He wants revenge.
She needs a miracle.
And the only thing more dangerous than his hatred…
Is the love they never truly buried.

For three years, I was Adrian Vale's kept woman.
Pretty, useless, and so thoroughly spoiled that even his sister said I wouldn't survive three days without the Vales. I didn't bother arguing. Before I met Adrian, I'd been chair of the Global Financial Order Council. That job had nearly worked me to death. Now I didn't have to set an alarm or use my brain, and my monthly allowance ran to eight figures. Who in her right mind would give that up?
Then twelve overseas funds joined forces to short Vale Group. Adrian's father was forced out. His two older brothers were taken into custody. And Adrian, who had always been able to fix anything, found himself at a negotiating table with a pen pressed into his hand and a demand to surrender every share he owned.
One of the fund managers across the table looked me over and smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Vale. Once your family’s bankrupt, we’ll take good care of your little songbird."
I was quiet for a long moment. If the Vales went under, where was I supposed to find another man this generous?
So just as Adrian was about to sign, I took the seat at the head of the table and called a number I hadn't used in ten years.
"Halt trading across the European markets. And tell the heads of these twelve funds to get here within thirty minutes and explain themselves—on their knees."

In my past life, I built an ironclad sanctuary in the zombie-infested wasteland, bleeding to keep four thousand people alive.
Yet the very people I risked everything to protect were brainwashed into overthrowing me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right on the eve of that fatal rebellion.
Right now in the control room, my enemy has his arm around my wife. Fourteen rebels have their assault rifles pressed against my skull, laughing mockingly, convinced they've completely crushed this washed-up "Doomsday Tyrant."
What they don't know is that two days ago, I already emptied the bunker's entire stockpile of weapons and food.
You want "freedom" without rules? It's all yours.

Beau and I have been together for three years. I paid for the entire yacht charter out of my own pocket, and he shows up with his childhood best friend Sadie in tow, then goes around telling everyone it was his idea, his grand gesture.

Out on the water, Sadie spots a small octopus drifting near the surface and decides she has to have it. The thing pulses with glowing blue rings.

I'm a certified expert diver. I know exactly what it is the second I see it. I try to stop her.

She bursts into tears and tells Beau I'm going after her.

So Beau, ever the hero where Sadie's concerned, jumps in himself and fishes the thing out.

Sadie plays with it. It bites her. She's on the deck before she even knows what hit her.

Beau grabs me, screaming at me to suck out the venom. I refuse. He calls me a cold, heartless bitch, and in the chaos, shoves me overboard into shark-infested water.

I die out there. Nothing left of me.

They use my phone to fake a suicide note. Depression, they say. Jumped on her own. Then they take my company, my assets, everything.

They post online hinting I tried to push Sadie in and slipped.

My parents, worn down by the online harassment and the grief of losing me, both die of heart attacks.

Then I open my eyes. And I'm back. The morning of the trip.

On our wedding night, my wife said to me: "Lucas's family needs an heir, and I've agreed to carry one for them."
Seeing me trembling all over, she gently cupped my face and added softly: "It's just IVF—a way to repay their kindness. The entire process is medical, with no physical contact at all. Once the baby is born and the debt is settled, I'll have as many children with you as you want, okay?"
For the sake of our ten years of love and the debt of gratitude we owed, I gritted my teeth and agreed.
Until three months later, when I found her lying naked on our wedding bed, frantically making love with Lucas.

My childhood sweetheart, Philip Mitchell, was a hockey prodigy.
When he wanted to throw away his Olympic qualifiers to take care of his sick girlfriend, I told his coach and his mother.
Because of me, he was dragged back to the ice. He won the Olympic gold, secured a spot at Harvard, and eventually became a billionaire sports agent.
I, however, ended up with nothing.
During a public practice, he swung his hockey stick with full force—right into my eye.
As blood blinded my vision and my retina detached, he looked down at me with pure disgust. "You ruined her life, Arabella. This is your karma."
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the hospital.
I was back in the locker room at seventeen, right before everything went wrong.

Here is an adaptation crafted in the style of a bestselling contemporary Western psychological thriller or domestic drama hook, using fast-paced, high-tension American English:

For three years, I was the envy of Manhattan’s elite—the untouchable heiress with the flawless life.

My husband? The media constantly fawned over him, dubbing him "God’s gift to women" and the absolute epitome of a perfect gentleman.

Then came the video. The damn video that shattered it all.

Kneeling on the floor, wearing a thick leather collar like a pathetic stray, was the man I had loved deeply for years.

At the other end of the leash stood another woman, the stiletto of her red-soled Louboutin pressing ruthlessly into his cheek.

"Tell me, what are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Mistress Elena's dog," he whimpered. "I just want to get away from Sienna... I'm so sick of that suffocating bitch."

Every vow, every promise we ever made, instantly dissolved into a sick, twisted joke.

But instead of breaking down, I just smiled. And I hit save.

If he wanted to act like a dog so badly, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I was going to make sure he choked on that damn leash.

In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.


“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

“Does Mr. Howard Have an STD?”
With one sentence, Sienna tore apart her marriage to Ethan.
For three years of their secret marriage, she was his obedient wife, his silent assistant, and the woman he always overlooked.
Until she discovered that every business trip he took was spent living with his adopted sister.
While he was hospitalized after a car accident, she slipped divorce papers into his documents and tricked him into signing them.
She quit her job, moved out, and inherited a massive fortune.
The whole city mocked her, saying she was nothing without Ethan.
But she turned around and climbed back to the top of the industry, standing beside a man even more powerful than him.
Only then did Ethan realize what he had lost, kneeling before her and begging for another chance.
She leaned down slightly and smiled.
“Mr. Howard, when you cheated on me… did you ever think I could choose someone else too?”

In my last life, the city became a locked-down apocalypse zone.
My “family-first” elite father shoved my older brother into a raider’s shotgun just to survive.
My pampered socialite mother thought I was dead weight—and personally threw me into a tide of infected.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the third day after the world collapsed.
Watching my mother still dilute her luxury face cream with the last half case of water—while my father lectured me about principles—
I drew my tactical knife and pinned it clean through the solid oak table.
“From now on, supplies are split. Rot here and prove it to me.”

I was going to donate a kidney to my fiancé.

Before telling him I was a match, I lied and said I was the one with kidney failure. Dean froze for only a few seconds before canceling the wedding. He said sick people should leave on their own instead of burdening everyone else.

I was about to ask whether he had wanted to call off the wedding all along when his biological sister walked out of his bedroom wearing his shirt.

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.

Framed for a crime she didn’t commit by the one person she trusted most — her best friend — Bella’s world crumbled the night her mate, Alpha Ethan, rejected her and cast her out of the pack. Heartbroken and alone, she thought her story had ended.

But fate had other plans.

When a rival pack takes her in, Bella’s hidden bloodline awakens — ancient, powerful, and destined for more than just survival. Now, she’s no longer the broken girl the Alpha abandoned... she’s the Luna their world never saw coming.

And when the past comes knocking, those who betrayed her will learn: the girl they threw away was born to rule.

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

Seventeen days into our silent standoff, I heard my boyfriend of eight years had slept with his childhood friend. He was telling people we’d already broken up. When I called, he asked if I had anything to say. “I do,”I replied. “When do I get my forty-five thousand dollars back?”

A zombie outbreak occurred, and my brother and I were both reborn ten minutes before the disaster struck.
This time, he seized the initiative, stealing the two high-level god-tier abilities, [Flame] and [Hardening], and casually pushed me out of the security door, locking me in the zombie-infested corridor.
Through the security door, he arrogantly declared, "In my past life, you always stood in front of me; in this life, I'll take the mark of survival."
In his eyes, the [Tracking] and [Preset] abilities the system assigned me were nothing but useless pieces of paper.
He thought I would die a horde of zombies.
But he didn't know that in the hands of a top hunter, seemingly useless skills could weave a hellish web that made life unbearable and death unthinkable.

Marilyn is a self made boss and a Baddie. She does not soften for anyone but she made an exception for her fiancé.
Until she found out her fiancé Tom was cheating on her. To make matter worse, he didn't feel remorse. He broke off the engagement and left her standing there like a fool.
She ends up at a hotel bar, where an arrogant stranger approaches her. He’s persistent, irritatingly sure of himself, and exactly the kind of man she doesn’t deal with. She dismisses him and leaves, refusing to give any man her time anymore.
The next day, she goes to her ex’s office with the intention of ruining his peace. Instead, she finds the man from the bar. His name is Dante. He is her ex’s boss.
Dante proposes an offer and she accepts when she realizes it would get her the revenge she wants on her ex and even more.
The arrangement is clear: No feelings attached.
But the longer they play the part, the more the line blur.

This is a story about control, ego, attraction, and what happens when two people who don’t surrender to anyone start wanting each other anyway.

After three years together, Adrian had never truly remembered my name.
But I never expected him to open a ring box at his family’s dinner, propose to me in front of everyone—and call another woman’s name.
Everyone assumed Serena was his fiancée, while I was nothing more than a secret he kept in the shadows.
He asked me to play along and promised he would explain everything later. He gave her my promotion, my ring, and my dignity, then told me he would make it up to me next month.
Until I decided to leave New York and fly to London alone.
This time, I would no longer wait for him to remember who I was.

Three years ago, billionaire Theodore Chambers handed Victoria Ellis divorce papers with cold eyes and colder words—all for the sake of his first love, Isabella Waters.
Victoria didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She simply signed her name, walked out of that golden cage, and disappeared from the world of the rich.
What the world didn't expect…
Was for the discarded ex-wife to rise from the ashes—not as a socialite, but as the world's most sought-after reconstructive mortician. Behind every high-profile crime scene and closed casket, she was the one restoring dignity to the dead—and building a name powerful enough to shake law enforcement and the elite alike.
Now, at a funeral of all places, their paths cross again.
She stands beside another man, radiant, untouchable.
He watches in disbelief—his ex-wife, no longer his.
"You handle corpses every day. Aren't you afraid of bad luck?" he growls, grabbing her wrist.
She smiles coldly.
"In my heart, the grass over your grave has already grown two meters tall."
But fate has one final card to play.
When Victoria finds Theodore lying in a pool of blood, clutching an old photo of her, everything unravels.
Was it too late after all?
Or is love just another body she's not willing to reconstruct?

I have guarded the Abyss on the Ashen Plains for a thousand years.

My daily routine: chewing rock-hard rye bread, single-handedly crushing the skulls of trespassing demons, wiping their slime off on a ragged surcoat, and leaning against a bronze pillar to catch the wind.

Today, a dying girl stumbled into the wasteland. Her fingers were locked in a death grip around the bloodstained iron crest I had left behind a millennium ago. Up on the ridge, three hundred heavy cavalrymen of the Alliance drew their lances, forming a wall of steel as they closed in.

I stared at the blood on the ground. I didn't make a sound.

I just brushed the biscuit crumbs off my lap and stretched my stiff neck. Turning around, my fingers hooked onto the hilt of a rust-eaten battleaxe resting beneath the bronze pillar. I dragged it along with casual ease.

"Troublesome."

I muttered that single word, and walked alone toward the formation of steel.

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.
Only when I slipped off that pearl ring did I understand—
Some love stories, from the very beginning, are nothing but long letters written to someone else.

In my last life, for the spy I executed, she framed me for treason and injected me with the zombie virus herself.

I died in a dungeon—by the hand of the one I trusted most.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all began.

This time I didn’t interfere. I watched coldly as she got scratched, handed the only dose of serum to the spy, and as the gates swung open and he finally showed his true face.

At last she believed me, kneeling in the dirt, begging for forgiveness.

I looked into her eyes as they clouded over. “I warned you in my last life. You didn’t believe me.”

This life, every blade she wanted for me—lands on her instead.

Three years after my first love, a Mafia Don, handed me over to his enemies, he finally came to “rescue” me.
Not out of guilt—but because his daughter needed my blood.

Don Silas held me and cried as if his heart were breaking, saying he had thought of me every day.
How ridiculous—his wife Serena stood beside him, and behind them was their daughter, Ava.

I pretended to be moved.
Pretended I still loved him.
Pretended I was willing to be his daughter’s blood donor… and his second wife.

Only one person knew I was acting.
Underboss Liam—the only one who ever managed to get messages to me during those three years of captivity.

“I’ll find a way to get you out.” he said.

But on the day we planned to escape, the Gravoni family—the very people who had imprisoned me—arrived.

Their Don, Joe, looked at me with deep remorse.
“Vera, I’m sorry. Back then, I didn’t know… you were my late sister’s daughter.”

Now both families want me.

But all I want… is to leave alive.