A Review of Recent Read: Morally Corrupt by Veronica Lancet
Deciding between 4 or 3 stars was tough, but I settled on 4 because of FL. I'm a big fan of cunning, manipulative female leads, so FL really grabbed my attention. While some say it's like the Mindfuck series, I think it's not even close. FL's portrayal of being emotionless and calculating but has a fixation on Theo, the male lead is fascinating.
Theo's character annoyed me because he was hypocritical throughout. He got mad at FL for keeping secrets when he wasn't honest either. He didn't tell her things until later, and even then, she found out from someone else, which somehow brushed over.
See the hypocrisy?
Aside from the characters, the plot gets 3 stars at best. It's a mix of too many clichés, making it messy and hard to follow. There are too many characters and side stories, making it overwhelming for a standalone read.
The ending left me disappointed. The story had potential, but it didn't live up to it. With better execution, 'Morally Corrupt' could've been great, but it missed the mark.
Note: This review is just what I think. Remember, we all like different things, so decide for yourself if "Morally Corrupt" is your kind of book.
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you're just like her
Part One of the Deadly Desire AU
Pairing - sugarmommy!Villanelle x morallycorrupt!Reader
18+ :mentions of killing, smut; oral (r!receiving), fingering, choking, slight roughness and d/s vibes but not really
Word Count - 1860
A/N - this entire series is honestly just an excuse to write villanelle my beloved and a kind of darkfic with a lot of smut and some murder, this smut is pretty mild to some of the stuff i have planned heheheh
You knew what Villanelle was, what she did, she’d told you so herself when she’d come back to where she’d left you in her Paris apartment with a small cut against her cheekbone. She was surprised at your indifference, the unwavering lukewarm glint in your eyes when she uttered the words.
I’m an assassin, I kill for money - and I’m good at it.
She expected a widening of your eyes, a furrow of your brows, a downturn of your lips into a disapproving frown. She thought perhaps you’d be disgusted, backing away from her in fear, repulsed at the things she’s done. She was more than prepared to rectify the situation when you’d push her away, looking at her how so many others do - like she’s a monster.
But instead her own breath hitched in her throat at the soft touch of your fingertips against her cheek, a tentative stroke across the forming bruise. She became more aware in that moment of the icy glaze always present over your eyes, she’d seen it before but it seemed more prominent just then, where she expected a flaming emotion she was met with nothing. Just an indifferent stare.
“You should put some ice on that.” You muttered, taking in the greyish colour deepening on her skin.
“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” She responded as you pulled your hand from her face.
��What am I supposed to say?” You returned, watching as she stepped over to the fridge from the sofa to grab a bag of peas from the freezer and lifted it to her face. She loosely perched on the stool beside the kitchen counter, eyes not leaving your face as she tried to read you.
“I don’t know. That you think I’m evil - that you’re horrified by what I do. Are you not scared?”
You gave her a shrug and a shake of your head and you thought, maybe, you should feel some sort of fear or repulsion but you couldn’t find it in you.
“So how do you feel about it?” She prodded, dropping the peas down onto the counter with a clatter, just so intrigued at this new side of you she was discovering.
“I don’t really feel anything about it, darling.” You shrugged, leaning back in your seat as she kicked her shoes off with a smirk. “As long as you don’t kill me, I don’t see why I should care - you’re not planning to kill me are you?”
She huffed a laugh at that, taking her seat beside you with that smug grin she wears so well. “No.”
“Then carry on - it’s what pays for all the things I like after all.” You smiled at her, referring to the clothes she buys you, the expensive restaurant trips and holidays she’s taken you on.
“Mm, you are so pretty when you’re spoiled.” She mused, mindlessly running her hand over your thigh.
“Are you gonna get this dry cleaned?” You asked, pulling at the collar of her white shirt that had been dotted with a drop of blood - most likely someone else's.
“I can just buy a new one.” She smirked, always ready to flaunt her wealth to you. She watched as you undid it button by button until you gazed at her bra clad chest, letting you push it past her shoulders before she tugged it off to discard somewhere on the ground.
It was animalistic the way she pounced on you, hands holding onto your face as she crashed her lips to yours. Her toned body flexed under your touch when she moved to straddle your legs, pushing you onto your back, sliding her hands up your bare thighs. Her firm touch always set your skin alight, squeezing the flesh of your upper thighs with her bruising kiss before inching her hands further upwards, the shirt you were wearing bunching up around your chest.
She left a trail of kisses over your stomach, downwards until she pressed one to your clothed pussy, feeling the heat from you, smelling your arousal. She wasted no time in pulling the underwear from your body, wrapping her arms around your legs to pull you closer and staring into your eyes as she let a trail of spit fall from her lips onto your already glistening slit.
She always ate you out as though you were the best meal she could ever consume, tongue expertly lapping through your folds, flicking over your clit whilst her hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, nails leaving crescents behind and maybe a bruise or two if she’s lucky.
You aimlessly grabbed at the sofa for something to hold on to, using your other hand to palm at your breast, pulling your nipple between your fingertips. She hollowed out her cheeks with a harsh suck against you making you moan, your hips tried to buck over her tongue but her strong hold kept you pinned down.
She peered up at you through her lashes, the way your body was gasping for breath, head thrown back with your eyes scrunched closed. You could feel her smirk against you before she pulled away, you weren’t surprised, she always was a tease. She likes to see you squirm, desperation in your eyes as you look at her, aching for her to fuck you.
She stood back up, lips shining with your juices as she cockily looked at you watching her undress, she knows how hot she is, she basks in your stares. She looked ethereal standing before you in just her underwear, an expensive, lacey set of lingerie; the black material a stark contrast to her smooth, milky skin.
“Take that off.” She spoke, gesturing to your t-shirt. You did as she said, tossing it aside before yelping slightly when she suddenly lifted you into her arms, easily picking you up. Your legs wrapped around her waist, your hands held onto the sculpted biceps she worked so hard on; you kissed over her neck until she threw you down onto her bed, both of you laughing lightly at the way you bounced.
Her sheets, of course, were expensive - ‘Liliana Rizzari’ silk throw beneath your naked body.
Villanelle crawled up your body, her blonde hair tickled your skin as she kissed you; her lips moved quickly with yours, her tongue battled with yours, licking into your mouth. She pulled away from you with a tug at your bottom lip before dark eyes locked with yours.
“Make me cum and I’ll take you out to dinner tonight.” She rasped, Russian accent coating her words. “Do a good job and I might get you those shoes you want too; you’ve been so good already, pretty girl. I’ve seen a whole new side of you.”
You could only nod in response, letting her guide your hand downwards until your fingers toyed with the waistband of her underwear. You felt how wet she was already, whether she admitted it or not, she got so wet for you - just seeing you wanting her, hearing the sounds she can pull from you, made her ache.
She bit into your collarbone with a sigh when you pushed your fingers into her, they slid into her easily with how dripping she already was. You’d learnt how to perfectly curl your digits in a way that hit her in just the right way, her hips twitched at the movement, lips sucking at your neck with harsh bites scattered over your skin.
The pad of your thumb rubbed over her swollen clit and the sound of her choked moan took you by surprise; she always made sure to stay as quiet as possible but after today she didn’t feel the need to. You were like her, you had that cold and empty look in your eyes - she’d found a new comfort in you she hadn’t expected, you’d earned the right to hear the way you made her feel.
She kissed over the column of your throat as your fingers pumped into her, curling inside her, pulling out and pushing back in with a lewd sound of her arousal. Her lips dragged over your skin in a perfect sequence, her breath was hot against your chest when her tongue swirled over your nipple and pulled away with a tug between her teeth.
“Fuck.” She sighed against you with a moan. “Look at me when you make me cum, pretty girl.” She added, taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, positioning it so your eyes could lock with hers. She kept them trained on yours as she climaxed, clenching around your fingers with a grunt of pleasure, lips falling open with heavy breath. The sight was glorious, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together beneath her.
She dug her fingers into your wrist, yanking your hand away from her. She eyed the shining wetness along them, as she pushed them towards your mouth.
“Clean it up.”
You did as you were told, sucking your fingers with a hum at her sweet taste, swirling your tongue over them until they were clean.
She gave no warning before her long fingers thrust into your dripping pussy, she smirked cocklily at the way your eyes widened and your teeth clamped down into your lip at the sudden intrusion. Her fingers were drenched straight away, slipping into you with a curl she knew would make you moan the way you did.
She sat up on her knees to watch you, breasts slightly bouncing with her rough movements, nails digging into the mattress. Her free hand stroked up your torso until her svelte fingers wrapped around your neck, pushing onto your throat in a way that had your eyes rolling back in your head. She squeezed in a controlled way, limiting your oxygen and letting it flow again.
With a circle drawn over your clit with her thumb you were cumming over her fingers, your hips bucked upwards, your back arched and your chest rose and fell in gasps of breath. Villanelle didn’t wait for you to recover before she forced her fingers past your lips, fucking them into your mouth as you cleaned yourself off her long digits.
She pulled them away with a string of saliva in tow once she was satisfied, flopping beside you on the bed, pulling a sheet over you both. The room was brightly lit from the sun through the large windows across from you, a breeze floating in through the net curtains. It gave perfect visibility to your naked upper half that she left uncovered, her own body still in her bra and underwear as she leant her head on her hand and danced her fingers over your bare skin.
“Come with me on my next trip.”
“Really?” You asked in surprise. Usually she left and came to you in England, or she flew you out to wherever she wanted to go - she’d even started to let you stay in her Paris apartment until she came back. But she’d never even suggested inviting you on one of her work trips.
“Yes.” She nodded nonchalantly. “I think you’d enjoy it.”
“Where’s your next job?”
“Italy.”
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Join us for the #SeriesTour
Series: Morally Questionable Series
Titles: My Name is Pink ~ Morally Corrupt ~ Morally Blasphemous ~ Morally Decadent
Author: Veronica Lancet
Genre: Dark Mafia Romance
My Name is Pink
Pink—Femme Fatale
Artemis—Deadly Assassin
Bianca—Shy Socialite
All three have something in common–they love the same man. But can he love them all?
Theodore Hastings fucked Pink, married Bianca, and fought side by side with Artemis.
But this sick game of fuck marry kill is not that simple.
Not when all three are the same person.
Morally Corrupt
Bianca Ashby, a certified sociopath with an obsession for her husband, tries to juggle two lives - the demure NYPD Chief Commissioner wife, and the perfect Bratva assassin; all the while keeping her husband safe and blissfully unaware.
Morally Blasphemous
She was an angel born of hopes and dreams.
He was a monster forged in blood and sin.
Morally Decadent
She just wants to be free... in a world that thrives on her oppression.
He just wants control... of the one woman who would never submit.
This book explores questionable moral behaviors and includes graphic violence and adult situations that may trigger some readers. Please proceed with caution!
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