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Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

Before the apocalypse hit, my ex-girlfriend called me, laughing like a maniac: "Jack, you pathetic loser—still playing that stupid farming game? Gonna whack zombies with a hoe? Open the door right now, get on your knees, and beg us, and maybe we'll throw you some table scraps."
I listened to the faint scrape of a tactical knife being drawn on the other end of the line, and silently glanced at my computer screen—at the maxed-out Greenfield Manor game, with its gold cap glowing at [999,999,999] .
"You misheard." I dropped my voice, lacing it with just the right amount of embarrassment. "I was checking the weather forecast."
The other end erupted in unrestrained laughter: "Then forecast this—how you're gonna die today!"
I hung up without changing my expression, flipped open the system, and spent a million on the [Absolute Defense Shield] —then brought out a steaming plate of roasted meat.
Forecast?
I forecast that tonight, you'll be gnawed down to bare bones by zombies.

I was never supposed to exist in the Blood Moon Pack, low-born, no surname, no family to shield me.
Yet the Alpha chose me and called me “his one and only mate for this lifetime”.
He said he loved me.
So I endured. I stepped back. I forgave him again and again.
Until the day I was pushed down the stairs, dragged into the punishment grounds, strapped to an electric restraint bed, and heard them calmly discussing how far they should go this time; what kind of punishment would finally make the “real family” feel at ease?
That was when I understood in their world, I wasn’t a mate. I wasn’t family. I wasn’t even seen as a person. I was just a bargaining chip, but something disposable, something meant to be sacrificed when convenient.
So I learned to stay quiet, to remember everything, and to wait.
They thought I died in that fire.
But when I stepped back into the moonlight, I was no longer an Omega.

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

My mate—Alpha Jasper—knelt on one knee, proposing to me at my birthday party when Sienna Burrows suddenly appeared.
She was his fated mate once. His first love.
Dressed in the exact same backless red gown I was wearing, she stood there like a queen, regal and untouchable.
She let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Hah. Alpha Jasper, no matter how perfect a copy may be, it will never be me."
Alpha Jasper didn’t even spare her a glance. Instead, he turned to me, gently taking my left hand in his. His voice was deep, filled with emotion.
"Cynthia, will you marry me?"

“I’m not interested,” Violet said flatly, pushing his hand away like it meant nothing.
Freeman Dylan had never been rejected before.Rich,Popular,Infuriatingly handsome. The kind of boy who walked through Eastwood High like he owned it because, in a way, he did. Girls fell at his feet without him even trying.But Violet Roland? The quiet, sharp-tongued genius with glasses and zero patience for nonsense? She wasn’t impressed.
Not even a little.To Dylan, it was supposed to be simple. Just a bet. Make the school’s smartest girl fall for him. Break her walls. Win.
Easy Or so he thought.
Because Violet doesn’t fall for sweet words or pretty smiles. She sees through players. She hates lies. And Dylan… he’s everything she refuses to tolerate But what happens when the playboy starts breaking his own rules?
When the game turns real… and he’s the one losing his heart? And what will Violet do when she finds out she was never more than a bet?

Ariadne Caddel got the shock of her life when she visited her soon-to-be husband and met him on the bed with her stepsister. She felt betrayed by the both of them and took off her engagement ring, broke off the engagement without thinking twice. They didn't even look remorseful.
Feeling pained and dejected, Ariadne went to the closest club she could find, seduced the first man she saw and had sx with him. She decided to move away from the city and leave behind all of her past memories to start a new life.
There, she discovered that she was pregnant with quadruplets that can only be for the mysterious man she had sx with. She came back to the city to find the father of her children but the only thing she had on him was the customized bracelet with the initials "C. J. W." inscribed on it—and the only person she has heard of that bears those initials is the popular, cold-hearted, and playboy billionaire, Conrad Jared Whitlock.

Divorce + Winning Back the Ex + Clear-headed Heroine + Career Comeback
Amelia Carter had sacrificed her career for love, staying in a secret marriage for three years. Every day, she prepared lunch with her own hands for Eric Reeves—only to be repaid with trending headlines of him accompanying his "first love" to a prenatal checkup.
Her heart turned to ice.
Slamming the divorce papers in front of him, she said coolly, "Sign it. I'm setting you free."
Later, when he came begging with red-rimmed eyes, she merely smirked. "Mr. Reeves, the whole city knows you're... lacking. I still have my pride to maintain."

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

After sleeping for a thousand years, I returned to the ancestral castle that was supposed to be mine.
Only to find my throne torn down and turned into an auction block for the black market, my territory carved up clean by traitors.
And my only pureblood descendant in this world was actually being auctioned off like livestock—covered in blood, chained up with a cheap dog collar around his neck.
The entire room of nobles and elites mistook me for the lowest kind of half-blood trash, mocking me as a rat too stupid to know when he was dead.
The usurper, eager to curry favor with the Abyss, shouted that he would drain me dry and offer my blood as a tribute to the three pureblood princes deep within the Abyss.
Then the void split open, and those three supreme princes—the untouchable monsters the world worshiped—truly descended.
Under the horrified gaze of more than a thousand nobles and elites, those three ancient monsters threw themselves at my feet, scrambling and crawling, wailing in terror without even daring to raise their heads:
"Your unworthy descendants... welcome the Ancestor's return!!!"

Once, I was the Golden Dragon Princess, loved by my family and cherished by the man I would have died for. Then one accusation shattered everything. My dragon core was sealed, and I was cast into the frozen abyss to repent for a crime I never committed. Three years later, I died alone beneath the endless snow—on the very day my fiancé was set to marry my sister, the one who framed me. He stared at my lifeless face, trembling. “Seraphina… please wake up.”

On the night before my sister's bone marrow transplant, my parents confiscated my EpiPen and locked me in the attic.

Their "genetic consultant" warned them that the medication would contaminate the stem cells meant for my sister.

I had eaten the meal they provided—one secretly laced with lethal traces of nuts.

The resulting anaphylactic swelling was suffocating me completely.

I frantically bashed my head against the door. "My pen... Mom, I can't breathe..."

"Stop putting on a show!" Mom snapped through the wood. "That meal was entirely nut-free! Are you faking an allergic reaction just because you can't stand the thought of your sister finally getting well?"

Her footsteps retreated.

Agonizing pain and oxygen deprivation overtook me as I clawed at the floor until every one of my nails snapped off.

Until my breathing stopped completely.

Y

Hiding my identity and marrying an ambitious female celebrity—this is the most boring social experiment I've ever done.
She wants me to leave with nothing.
She gave my family heirloom to that gigolo.
She tweeted that I was "low-class trash".
She didn't know that Hollywood, which she was desperately trying to climb up to, was nothing more than my backyard.
She had no idea that those capitalists she fawned over would all bow down and call me "Mr. Rockwell."
Until that night, she stripped naked, attempting to offer herself to the enigmatic "godfather of capital"—
The leather sofa slowly turned around.
The lights were on.
She saw my face.
“Chloe,” I flicked my cigar ash, “what brings you here?”

"I need to bear my sworn brother a child first."

At our engagement ceremony, my wife took her sworn brother's hand.

"Brother has been so good to me—he even sacrificed his fertility to protect me. This is my way of repaying him."

So they made me wait three years.

When those three years ended, they still thought I'd be the same as before—obeying their every command like a loyal dog.

What she didn't know was this:

I am the Supreme Wolf King.

Everything her family possessed—I gave it to them.

Now, I'm taking it all back.

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

On our wedding day, my fiancé gave the wedding dress I had made by hand to his sick sister—and let her marry into the DeLuca family in my place.
Everyone told me to give in because she was fragile, while I was strong enough to endure it.
That night, I walked away, revoked my access to the family, and left my mother’s atelier.
Later, his sister’s fake illness was exposed, and my fiancé got down on his knees, begging me to come back.
But I was no longer the woman who would sacrifice everything for them.

The world thought I was a broken man after rotting in the Abyss for five years. Even Moretti, the wealthiest mogul in Cold Harbor, dared to point a finger at my nose and demand I kneel.
He razed my estate, seized my daughter, and humiliated my past on a city-wide livestream.
What he didn’t know was that the moment his infrared scanners locked onto me, I had already initiated the sequence for a dormant orbital satellite that had been sleeping above us for five years.
When the skyscraper turns to ash, the man kneeling before me won’t be that arrogant tycoon—only a trembling corpse.
After all, in this city, I don’t believe in reason. I only believe in retribution.

What is fate? Waking up three days after you rejected your fated mates in front of the entire school, with the memories of your husband's betrayal still burning in your chest? Or finding out that the only way to save your empire is to compete for love on national television—against the man who murdered you?

Make your pick.

Odessa Montgomery died at thirty—cheated on, poisoned, and blown to pieces by the husband she trusted. Then she opened her eyes at twenty-one, three days after the mating gala where she publicly rejected the De Luca triplets. The rejection is still fresh. The whole school is still talking. And Damien Gracias, her charming hockey-star boyfriend, has no idea she remembers every lie he ever told her.

She dumps him. Publicly. Brutally. But freedom comes at a cost. Her grandfather's will is clear: find a mate or lose the Montgomery empire. With Damien out and the De Luca triplets—her humiliated fated mates—lurking in her past, her options are nothing.

Then comes Moonlit Bonds, a televised competition where unmated shifters compete for love and a life-changing prize. Win, and her inheritance is hers. Lose, and lose everything.

There's just one problem. Damien and his true mate, Sarah, have joined the show, hoping to legitimize their bond on camera. And the De Luca triplets are also contestants—three alphas she rejected, two who bullied her, and one who has never stopped watching.

Now Odessa is trapped in a villa with cameras in every corner, a public audience that votes on her fate, and enemies who want her dead.

She came to win.

She might just find revenge.

But falling for the enemy? That was never part of the plan.

At the company's annual client appreciation dinner, I was the one in charge of booking the venue.
To save the company money, I picked my aunt's upscale restaurant with a skyline view. Since we were family, she only charged us at cost. When I posted the details in our Slack channel to confirm with the team, no one had any objections—except for the intern, who slowly tagged me in the chat:
[Arthur, I don't mean anything by it.]
[I just want to ask—how big a kickback did you get for booking your family's restaurant?]
[After all, the money for this dinner is coming out of our bonus pool.]
[So you should return that money to the rest of us, right?]
The other coworkers started liking the message and chiming in to support him.
So I dropped the whole thing on the spot and handed the task over to that intern, who loved talking about "fixing workplace injustice."
Then the night of the dinner came.
From the CEO all the way down to the investors, everyone was pinned on the deck and searched by armed Coast Guard officers.
The most important client contact collapsed from a heart attack on the spot and was airlifted by helicopter straight to the ICU, costing the company a multimillion-dollar enterprise cybersecurity contract.

After a brutal humiliation turns Aria Collins into the campus joke, she decides revenge isn’t enough—she wants power. And the fastest way to get it is by stealing the one thing her enemy wants most.
Zane Parker.
The problem? Aria has no idea how to make a guy like him notice her.
So she makes a reckless offer to the four most dangerous boys on campus—the Steel brothers… who are now her stepbrothers.
At dinner, she slides a paper across the table.
“I want sex education.”
Reed’s slow grin spreads across his face. “You want us to teach you?”
“Yes,” Aria says calmly.
“Okay then, Spread your legs, Aria.” His tone left no room for argument, and my heart stuttered at the command.
Jasper released my hand, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Now touch yourself,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “Show us how well you’ve learned this first lesson.”
My fingers trembled as I reached down, my mind spinning as I tried to process what was happening.
Reed’s voice was a murmur near my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Good girl, finger yourself harder. Let us see.”
I couldn’t look at them, couldn’t meet their eyes. My fingers brushed against myself hesitantly, and a small gasp escaped my lips as sensation sparked through me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also…hot between my legs.
Cole stepped closer, his hand hovering near mine as if to guide me. “Press harder,” he instructed, his hot words making me feel hotter. “Oh baby girl.. You are coming.”

Isabel was devastated and distraught after receiving a sincere rejection from her boyfriend. Although she had intended to spend the holiday at her grandmother's house, she ended up becoming involved with a stranger and having a one-night stand with him.

When her mom introduced her fiance to Isabel, she was shocked to discover that her step father, Mr Walton had a son who turned out to be Derek– the guy she had a one night stand with.

Isabel struggled with her affections for Derek and the knowledge that he would one day become her stepbrother. Anticipating her first shift, she hoped to find her mate and get over her feelings for Derek.

What happens when an unexpected twist occured and she discovered that Derek was her true mate? As she tried hard to distance herself from him because she saw him as nothing more than her stepbrother, will she continue to ignore the bond with him? What happens when Derek's true identity as the Alpha's son was finally revealed? And what happens when more secrets come to light about why he and Isabel were fated together?

Natalie is the only daughter of the Morge pack’s alpha. She concealed her identity and married Norwan, the Alpha of the Northan Clan. After being misunderstood by Nowan, she decisively dissolved her mateship with Norwan and returned to her pack. Natalie promised herself that she would take revenge for what Drixie and Cora did to her.

Celine Nelson approached a stranger in a bar to sleep with as a revenge for her husband cheating on her with his secretary. She thought that it would only be a one night stand but she ended up getting married to the man. Jared Walker had a beef with her husband and in order to revenge this he forced Celine whom he had been stalking to divorce her husband.
“Celine Nelson, I want you to divorcé your husband and marry me instead. I will pay you 10 million dollars. I know you need the money” Jared muttered without any hesitation.
“Alright I accept, but you are going to give me some time to get the divorce.”

I hate Beckett Hayes.
I hate his stupidly perfect face.
I hate the arrogant smirk that has sold millions of jerseys.
I hate that half of Chicago seems to worship the ground his skates touch.
But mostly? I hate what he did to my brother.
Eight years ago, Beckett Hayes destroyed my family. I haven't spoken to him since.
So naturally, on the first morning of my dream job with Chicago's hottest professional hockey team, I find him leaning against my office door.
Older. Bigger. Hotter. And wearing the same infuriating smile I remember.
My new job should have nothing to do with Beck. Until another one of the captain's scandals lands him in trouble and management decides I'm exactly the person he needs.
Now I'm traveling with him. Managing him. Arguing with him. Trying very hard not to notice what years of professional hockey have done to his body.
Then a photograph of us nearly kissing goes viral.
Suddenly everyone wants Beckett Hayes and Sloane Mercer together. The team. The sponsors. The fans. Everyone except me.
Because I know exactly who Beck is. At least, I thought I did.
But the closer I get to him, the more the story I've believed for eight years starts falling apart.
Beck didn't destroy my brother. He protected him.
And the man I've spent almost a decade hating? He's spent every one of those years wanting me.

"Evelyn Drake, are you truly set on joining the FBI as an undercover agent?"
The senior officer Garrett stared intently at the elegantly dressed woman before him, his gaze laced with inquiry and faint doubt.
It was his occupational habit, even a special knack, to categorize everyone he met into distinct social ranks—and he was exceptionally good at it, never once misjudging anyone.
In his eyes, Evelyn Drake, with her flawless makeup and platinum-blonde hair all the way down to the roots, was far from cut out to be an agent.
He had seen countless such pampered wealthy wives throwing petty tantrums. Most would make a scene at the front desk, only to be coaxed home meekly by their rich husbands soon after.
If such a delicate lady were admitted into the FBI, he suspected even the Kevlar bulletproof vest alone would chafe her soft skin raw.
Lost in these thoughts, Garrett let out a disdainful chuckle, his tone brimming with scorn. "Are you really sure? You'd give up your lavish lifestyle to become an FBI agent?"
Sensing his contempt, Evelyn took off her expensive wristwatch and slipped it into her handbag, then nodded firmly at him. "I am absolutely certain."

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

Seven years ago, my wife and son committed perjury in court, conspiring to send me to a high-security prison, all so they could elope with that fraudster.
Seven years later, I was released.
My ex-wife, with her son, arrogantly tossed a business card onto my faded work clothes:
"Go kowtow to my new husband and apologize, and I'll give you a waiter's job."
Little did she know that just hours later, at a top-tier financial summit across America, her seemingly untouchable new husband was kneeling at my feet like a dog.
And her proud multi-billion dollar empire was nothing more than garbage I could crush with a flick of my finger.

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

I suddenly awakened the ability to read minds. But I heard my fiancé, Joey Jones, mocking me in his mind: He had already arranged for an assassin to “send me off” at our wedding in the church. What was even more disgusting was that he promised I would become the Donna of the Jones family, but in his heart, he was fixated on his stepmother, Rory—his father’s widow, who was only a few years older than him.
With only three days left until the wedding, I no longer cried or begged for love. Instead, I contacted my first love, Nate, who was a police officer: “How about being the male lead at my wedding?”

After being reborn,
I immediately rushed to my adoptive mother who was conducting an experiment,
bit a piece of flesh off her,
and then turned to my younger sister standing beside her,
splashing her face with foul-smelling dog urine.
After being restrained,
I listened to them screaming that I had gone mad with rabies.
I pretended to be insane on the surface,
just to be smoothly sent to a rehabilitation center.
In my previous life, just as my experiment was about to succeed,
the laboratory exploded.
My adoptive mother and younger sister shifted all the blame onto me,
causing me to be killed by enraged family members.
This time,
with no one to take the fall for them,
I'll see how they manage to get away with it.

Ignite Your Darkest Desires
Do NOT open unless you're ready to BURN
Do NOT read unless you crave the HOTNESS.
A filthy, pulse-pounding collection of taboo erotica crafted exclusively for 18+ sinners who live for the forbidden rush.
Inside, you'll devour:
Stepfather-stepdaughter secrets: that drip with guilt-soaked lust, his rough hands claiming what he shouldn't, her tight, trembling body arching under him in the dark.
Exhibitionist thrills: strangers' eyes devouring every exposed inch as she's fucked against fogged glass, her cries muffled by his palm.
Voyeuristic obsessions: hidden cameras catching every slick slide, every gasp as step-siblings finally snap, bodies colliding in a frenzy of sweat and sin.
Kinky one-shots that push every limit: cuffs biting wrists, blindfolds heightening every wet lick, every brutal thrust until you're begging for release.
Each story is a standalone inferno, different bodies, different taboos, same blistering heat. Feel the throb between your thighs, the slick ache building, the shudder when they finally give in.
Lock the door. Let the flames consume you. You've been warned.

“…will you take me as your boyfriend?”

In the cutthroat halls of Beacon High, scholarship student Grace Thompson is invisible—until she becomes the target of Regina Michaels, the queen bee who strips her naked in the showers and leaves her humiliated and exposed.

But Jace Hunter, the brooding, untouchable billionaire’s son with ice in his veins and girls at his feet, anonymously drapes his luxurious Pierre fur coat over her stall, Grace’s world tilts.

Suddenly, the same boy whose cold gaze once terrified her is pulling her from the fire—claiming her publicly, defending her fiercely, and then kissing her senseless in front of his furious ex to make her his fake girlfriend.

Now trapped between a vicious bully who wants her destroyed and the dangerously magnetic Jace who sets her heart racing with every brooding look and possessive touch, Grace must navigate a minefield of secrets, lies, and scorching chemistry.

In a world where money talks and poverty is punishable, one fake kiss could ruin her…or become the most intoxicating real thing she’s ever known.

Maxine Wards ran away from her home, which made her lost in the city. Thank goodness cause there's one guy who saw her sleeping in the street. Harold Vans (the grandfather of five hot jerks) brought her to the Mansion and adopted her temporarily.

And due to important matters, Harold Vans needed to fly abroad for some matters so Maxine Wards left in hand with these FIVE HOT JERKS, named; Alyn Crawford, Louis Howard, Byron Wagner, Giles Christophe and Sid Granger.

What do you think would happen in her life along with these five hot jerks? Would she run away again to run from these jerks? Or she will continue her life and live in ONE ROOF WITH FIVE HOT JERKS?

This book contains very RAW and strong mature contents. Read with caution.

Do you like reading erotic slow burn romance stories?

Are you into thigh tingling forbidden stories?

Do you like reading submissive, dominating erotic stories?

Are you Into straight romance, werewolf erotic romance, taboo romance?
If Yes!

Red Hot Tales is the right book for you.

This book is a compilation of steamy erotic romance stories capable of bringing you to a whole new world of erotic fantasy you never knew existed. With Thigh tingling stories, captivating storyline leaving you wanting more.

Vee Vael has built a quiet life as a herbalist in a mountain town, carrying nothing from her past but a silver scar on her wrist and an unexplained dread of the full moon. She believes she is human. She is wrong.

Seven years ago, Vee was the most powerful Luna in pack history. She cursed Kaelon Draeth, the fearsome Alpha she loved, strapping him inside a half beast prison to save him from execution at the hands of corrupt pack elders. The curse cost her everything — her wolf, her memories, and the man she sacrificed it all for.

When Kaelon breaks free and finds her, he does not come with rage. He comes with a truth she cannot outrun. The only way to break what she built is to remember why she built it. Together they must walk through every buried memory while hunted by the same elders who tore them apart.

Vee must choose who she truly is before the elders erase her permanently. And Kaelon must decide whether the woman standing before him is still the Luna his wolf never stopped howling for.

Freya's an alien, from planet Eris. She came to Earth to live, and from the planet bureau system, they gave her a new identity. Daughter of the Quinn’s. On the day she came here, a mistake happened, and she almost lost her life but was saved by Ash. That's why when her “supposedly” sister escaped, she got married to Ash on her behalf.

My target should be terrified of me.
Instead, he's smirking like he already knows I'll never pull the trigger.
My heart races in my chest. This isn't me.
I am born to kill. I am born to take orders.
Yet those eyes, they're killing me.

She was born into power.
Now she chooses revenge.

Valentina Santangelo doesn’t belong in the shadows.
She was raised in them.

Daughter of a legacy built on blood, secrets, and ruthless control, Valentina has spent her life watching empires rise… and enemies fall. She knows the rules of this world. She knows how to survive it.

What she didn’t expect…
was to become its most dangerous player.

When betrayal rips through her family and threatens everything her father built, Valentina is done standing on the side-lines. She steps into the game—cold, calculated, and ready to make them pay.

But revenge has a price.

And the man standing in her way?
He’s not just her enemy…
He’s the one man who sees through every wall she’s built.

Dark. Dangerous. Impossible to resist.

As loyalty turns to obsession and desire collides with vengeance, Valentina must decide how far she’s willing to go—
and whether love is worth the risk of losing everything.

Because in her world…
you don’t fall in love.

You survive it.

BLURB
"You're the only one who can wake me. Now you'll carry my curse, and my crown."
When Aria Silverthorn's fiancé and stepsister publicly accused her of being Omega-born fraud, stripping her rank and dignity, she lost everything. Cast into the Forsaken Lands to die, she survived three months of hell—and desperation drove her to the forbidden Moonfall Crypt, where Alpha King Kael Nightfang has been entombed for five years.
The Council claims he died heroically. The truth? They poisoned him with wolfsbane silver, trapping him in death-sleep when he discovered their corruption.
When Aria touches his tomb seeking shelter, the impossible happens. He wakes—but only she can anchor him to life. Only her touch keeps him from slipping back into the void. Their bond is immediate, undeniable, and dangerous.
Kael should be dead. The Council made sure of it. For five years, his consciousness has been trapped between life and death, aware of every agonizing moment.
Until Aria.
She's his anchor. His prison. His salvation. And he's not letting her go, not when she's the key to his revenge and reclaiming his throne.
But their bond goes deeper than magic. They're true mates,a connection so rare it hasn't occurred in centuries. A bond the Council will kill to prevent, because true mates can challenge their entire corrupt system.

My girlfriend told me she was part of a social experiment. Her task was to get close to a target, and if she quit, she’d owe a crushing penalty.

So she kept canceling on me, staying out all night, and letting another man hold her—then came home in tears and said she had no choice.

I believed her for three years.

What she never knew was that I was the hidden heir to a billion-dollar family empire. While we were together, I was under a private family test and forbidden to reveal who I really was.

The day that test ended, I took back my name.

The first thing I did wasn’t return to the boardroom. I went straight to the lab behind her so-called experiment.

The man in charge turned the screen toward me. “We never had any massive penalty. The contract is clear. She could have quit at any time.”

Three years. No forced mission. No trap she couldn’t escape.

Every line she crossed, she chose to cross herself.

I didn’t confront her. I just took my things, ended the relationship, and walked away.

She thought I was just angry.

She had no idea that after reclaiming my identity, the first thing I did was uncover every lie she had ever told me.

Before the zombie outbreak, I was a hardcore doomsday prepper. I hoarded countless supplies, but when the apocalypse actually arrived, I ended up turning into a zombie myself. Just as I was overwhelmed with panic, my girlfriend and the guy she was cheating on me with brought a mob of thugs to smash down my door...

Last life, my girlfriend was trapped in a fire. I ran in, took the burns, and dragged her out alive.
When she woke up, she pointed at me first: “He’s the arsonist.”

Only later did I learn the truth—she’d been sleeping with her boss. They set the fire for an insurance payout and pinned everything on me.
Police investigations, the company cutting ties, the media turning me into a monster—I couldn’t prove a thing. I died in the rain, discarded like trash.

This time, I didn’t expose them. I didn’t call the cops.
On the night of the fire, I left early—then staged a robbery and walked myself into a police station, building the cleanest alibi possible.

They lit the match on schedule, trapped themselves, and waited for me to charge in.
As the flames grew and I never showed, she called—furious—demanding I come now.

I glanced at the officer taking my statement and said into the phone, calmly:
“Sorry. I can’t leave right now.”

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

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.

The year the gas swallowed the world, I helped design and build Dome City with my own hands, keeping the last survivors alive.

I thought I was protecting hope.

Then I stumbled onto the Council’s secret: the poison outside is fading—but they chose to hide it. Worse, they plan to manufacture and release more gas, locking everyone inside forever, under their rule.

Before I could expose the truth, the person I trusted most struck me from behind.

My girlfriend—Vera Walker.

She took my evidence, stripped my access, and traded me for a higher rank.

When I woke up, I was outside the Dome in toxic fog—my identity erased, my lungs burning, my vision slipping.

They dumped me like trash, certain I wouldn’t last the night.

They forgot one thing.

Dome City is my blueprint, my welds, my pipes—my work.

And I’m back.

"We are denying coverage for your father's surgery. You can either pay the $240,000 out of pocket, or wait for him to be paralyzed for the rest of his life."
My father was critically injured, the insurance company denied the claim, and the regional director arrogantly threw the denial letter in my face.
I gave a cold sneer and backhandedly slapped my Juris Doctor (JD) dissertation on his desk.

As the extreme cold apocalypse arrives, my most trusted protégé conspires with other shareholders to force me from power. Everyone is watching me become a laughingstock.

Just as I reach the brink of desperation and prepare to sign my resignation, countless scrolling comments suddenly cover my vision.

They're frantically displaying information about the future, such as—in three days, the apocalypse will end...

My wife and in-laws have been acting strange lately.

They've always hated the Texas farm, but now they suddenly care about me and the ranch.

My wife, who used to complain about me spending money on the "doomsday bunker" farmhouse project, is now actually encouraging me to complete it.

They even say I've been working too hard and bought me a plane ticket to Mexico.

Just as I'm about to take the ticket, a barrage comment appears before my eyes—

【Don't go! Your wife has been reborn from the apocalypse—she wants you to die out there!】