Aethereal

[ENRICHED WITH MATURE CONTENT. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. ]

AUTHOR TRANSMIGRATION

"I want to write Villain perspective! Enough of this Hero and Heroine gig!"

Nathalie Jean Quinn, life was so ordinary until she wrote the first book of her sequel, The Prince's Retribution, swept all over the literature world and garnered massive fan base and fortune.

Now, she wanted to leave out of her comfort zone and challenge herself-- To seek the memoirs of a villainess in the story; for its sequel, The Prince's Ascension, Mystique is revealed.

But even the management and the audiences begged to differ, so she made her way.

Although, in the middle of completing the Sequel, the main villain, Mystique Blackwell, comes for her in that magical encounter and cursed her.

Will Nathalie now transform to a monster that she created in her own story?


*** Excerpt***

"You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property."

Mystique was pressing her thighs against his, which he could never break free from her beguiling clutches.

She was on top of him; the surge of confidence came with her and took charge for the whole ride. Her eyes were obscured with gleaming lust, and her hands worked their wonders and slinked to his chiseled abs up to his brawn sweaty chest.

Every time she landed a smooth caress, he let out a stuttering moan as he was in spasms. His toes would dig deep into the mattress, no different from his nails that clawed, not trying to touch her sacred body.

It wasn't all as she reached for his nipples, rubbing them ever-so-softly. The man would throw his bobbed back to the woolly pillows and arched his back from pleasure.

Even though the bed creaked—fast and subtle that played their ears—she loved it.

Just as she adored every point in him...

Not a second delayed as he would shiver every time she would stroke the same parts of him.

On the other hand, she has kept up the pace ever since. She crashed her well-endowed chest against his. Their lips parted by a hair's breadth, and he gritted his teeth as he saw her angelic feature up-close, driven by ecstasy.

His gestures and countenance fueled her within, hastening the pace. There, he couldn't control his voice and let out pleasurable groans and grunts. Within those seconds, more thoughts began to blur her.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, bringing him closer to her while whispering his ear.

"You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property."

***


P,S,

The book has come to an end in a good note! Thank you so much for reading!

Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Now that Athan was all freshened up, he got out of the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and changed himself with spare clothes—which he gazed at the gray cotton tunic and trousers hung by the broken garment rod in the wardrobe.

In which he trudged close to it, being a tad careful for all the mess that clumped within the room.

"Your Highness," Marianne muttered after a series of knocks erupted behind the door. "As you have requested, I made a coffee."

Without looking in its direction, he hollered in a snap. "You may come in."

Athan wore his trousers and was about to insert his left arm onto the unbuttoned tunic when the door clinked and opened wide. Her shock reactions piqued his interest from the peripheral vision, and he looked at her with nonchalance.

Such Tension Rises