3393 Book(s) Related to fuck my wife stories

A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

With five days left before I was to leave the Black-Fig Pack and marry into the Pear Pack, I packed away everything Kael Thorne had ever left behind.
For five years, I had cherished his lost cufflinks, dried wildflowers he casually picked, and even a used handkerchief.
Now, they meant nothing to me.
I remembered every rejection and every scar he gave me, but I had completely lost the feeling of loving him. It was as if the Moon Goddess herself had severed the bond in my soul.
Kael thought I was just playing hard to get. He didn't know I had already chosen a new life—and that I would never return.

"Mom, I don't need a baby brother or sister. I already have a sister."
I happily pulled out a pair of baby shoes, only for my seven-year-old son to violently snatch them and slam them into the trash can.
It was in that exact moment I discovered that the Alpha leader I had deeply loved for eight years had built a lavish underground mansion long ago—housing his mistress and secret daughter!
And my "obedient" son had been joining his father there every single month, playing happy family with them!
When the shock caused me to hemorrhage, leaving me lying alone on a freezing operating table undergoing a miscarriage, my husband was off comforting his mistress and illegitimate daughter.
In that instant, my love shattered completely. I relinquished custody of my son, left a signed divorce agreement, and walked away without looking back.

My husband, Roman, has a bad heart. Five years ago they cut his chest open, and after that I quit my job and stayed home to keep him alive.
That day I got to his office ten minutes early with his lunch.
Through the glass door I watched Brielle Nash, his assistant, pick up his pill box. Twenty-eight compartments. I fill it every Sunday night.
She flipped open Wednesday evening, tipped the pills into her palm, and dropped them in the trash.
"That's the one that makes you feel eighty."
Roman laughed. He didn't stop her.
Then she handed him the can she'd been drinking from, and he took a sip out of her hand.
"That's living," she said. "Don't tell the boss lady, though. She'd have me fired."
He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I'll lock it in my drawer."
My lunchbox was sitting by his elbow. He hadn't opened it.
Later I found the flask in that drawer. Supplement bottles. A keycard for a boxing gym.
And a key I hadn't seen in five years.
I didn't do anything.
I went home and opened the safe and went through fifteen years of marriage one thing at a time.
Then I started working out what would be mine when he died.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

For three years I played the perfect fiancée to the most dangerous Alpha in the city.
I walked on tiptoe because he hated noise. I taught myself to cook meat the way wolves like it. I messaged him every night he didn't come home, and most nights he didn't.
I did it because the Sacred Spring said I was his fated mate, and a human with no magic doesn't survive here without one.
Then the Temple sent me a notice. The old reading was an error. Our true match rating is zero. The bond is void as of today, and they wish me all the best.
Honestly? I was relieved. I dumped his dinner in the trash, dragged my suitcase out from under the bed, and wrote him an IOU for three years of rent.
Then Kael came home early.
He looked at the empty plate. He looked at the suitcase. And the coldest Alpha in the city stepped into the doorway so I couldn't get past him.
"Who told you our match rating was zero?"
"And who told you that you were free to walk out on me?"

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

A hormonal condition pushed my weight to two hundred pounds, and for three years, this boarding school made sure I never forgot it.

The ringleader was the guy every girl worshipped.

And beside him stood his girlfriend, the one who always stepped in at my worst moments with a soft voice and a sympathetic look, like she was doing me a favor.

Everyone called her an angel. Only I knew the truth: every time she "helped," things got worse.

One day, she handed me a candy in front of everyone. "Here. Something sweet always helps."

I didn't feel like I had a choice.

That night, a demon showed up at the foot of my bed.

"Congratulations. You ate the pact candy. I'll grant you three wishes — money, beauty, lifespan. You name it, I'll make it happen."

My whole body shook. Three years of humiliation, and finally there was a way out. Wealth, beauty, revenge. All I had to do was ask.

Then the demon's expression shifted, eyes full of cruel amusement.

"There's a catch, though. The real pact-holder is someone else. Whatever you wish for, the one who gave you that candy gets double."

The words I was about to say died in my throat.

Then, slowly, I smiled.

Double?

That's way more interesting than three wishes.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Forty dollars. That's all the inhaler I needed to breathe cost. But in our house, nothing comes easy. 'Fairness first. Roll the dice — highest number wins.' I've rolled my whole life. I've never won. Not once. Tonight, lungs burning, vision blurring, I rolled for my medicine money against my sister. She got a six. I got a two. 'You lost, Hazel. Now go to the attic and think about your selfishness.' The door locked behind me. My chest is closing up. And no one is coming to check."

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

I was reborn on the very night George White—Don of the White family—was drugged and lost his mind to pure, animal lust.
This time, I didn't offer myself as the cure.
Instead, I gave him the woman he truly wanted. My sister.

In my past life, I fell in love with the Don of the White family. George.
When I learned he'd been drugged—stripped of every shred of reason—I made the choice I could never take back.
I didn't push him away. A month later, I was pregnant.
The family council forced him to marry me. For the heir. For the name. For everything except love.
On the morning of our wedding, my sister Leah couldn't bear it. She fled the estate alone.
That night, a rival family's killers found her.
Before she died, she called George ninety-nine times.
But George was at my wedding. The wedding I had begged for. So he never answered. Not once.

After marrying Rex, I lived every moment on edge, like a she-wolf treading thin ice.
I had to obey his suffocating rules of cleanliness—ritual-level strictness that bordered on obsession—and endure his complete indifference in bed, a coldness no heat could thaw.
I healed his mind when it was fractured, soothed the instability in his wolf, and stood beside him as he rose—step by step—to become the next Alpha heir of the GloomFall Pack.
And yet, on the night of my thirtieth birthday, I discovered the truth.
He was entangled with his father’s mistress—the secret lover of the former Alpha.

Because of the strong desire to give her mother the best treatment after her stroke, Samantha was forced to accept the offer to dance for a client, Mr. MC. She is the private sexy dancer of a wealthy man.

She hasn't seen his face, not even once, because he always wears a masquerade mask when she dances in front of him. She needs to give him a good show to warm his night just by dancing.

Just watch, no touch, that's it!

Does she have the right to fight how he feels about him if their agreement ends when the woman he was supposed to marry returns?

What? She married a wrong guy? It wasn’t the person who was going to marry her but someone else?
After the death of her boyfriend, her family sold her off, in the name of marriage, to the wealthiest family of the city in order to pay back their debts. The condition was: She has to give birth to the Reynolds’ family’s heir within a year!
Sienna Millar always thought that, she replaced her sister to marry the foster son of the Reynolds’ family. But what she didn’t know was she actually married the real heir of the Reynolds’ family!
Ezekiel Reynolds, the real heir of the Reynolds family, the business emperor and the prince charming of the city, married the daughter of Millar family because his brother didn’t want to do it. After marriage he didn’t even see the woman he married. But what he didn’t know was he actually married the woman he always liked!
Sienna who always thought Ezekiel as his brother-in-law and Ezekiel who always thought Sienna pretended to be married were unknown that they were actually husband and wife!
When Sienna found out the person she married was actually Ezekiel, she was stunned, “I married a wrong guy? Aren’t you my brother-in-law?”
However, Ezekiel pressed her against the wall, saying evilly, “Why? Are you unsatisfied with your mistaken husband?”

Twenty years ago, Clovis Dupond became the most hated man in history.

When an ancient horror escapes the prison he has guarded for twenty years, the truth begins to surface…and so does the daughter he believed he killed.

How do you save the world when the person destined to destroy it is your own child?

Ava Montgomery's perfect wedding crumbles when she catches her fiancé Garry cheating with the Alpha's daughter the night before their wedding. Heartbroken and humiliated, she accepts a shocking proposal from Marcus Stone, Garry's supposedly dead billionaire brother who returns with a thirst for revenge. Their fake marriage for revenge turns real when an unexpected mate bond forms between them during Marcus's challenge for Alpha. But as Marcus's billions merge with pack leadership, dark secrets emerge including hidden murders, a mysterious twin brother, and Ava's own secret heritage that could make her the most powerful Luna in werewolf history. Now Ava must decide if she can trust the dangerous billionaire she married for revenge, especially when their growing love threatens to destroy the empire they're building together.

"Spread your legs for us, baby," Khuraan growled, voice rough and commanding. "We want to see what’s ours."

My breath caught.

Zarkhan leaned down, his breath hot against my throat. "You said you could handle all three of us. Prove it."

"And don’t even think about faking it," Hakkan added, his tone a silky threat. "I’ll know. I always know."

Their eyes bore into me—three alphas, three predators circling their prey. The air crackled with dominance, with a heat that drenched me from the inside out.

Khuraan's fingers grazed my cheek, tilting my chin upward. "Touch yourself, baby. Show us how badly you need to be claimed."

My heart thundered in my chest. Every inch of my skin burned, every nerve tuned to the weight of their stares. I was trembling—part fear, part hunger.

"Say it," Zarkhan hissed. "Say you want us watching. Say you want to fall apart for your alphas."

A moan escaped me before I could stop it.

"I want..." My voice shook. "I want you to watch me."

"Good girl," Hakkan murmured. "Now don’t stop until we tell you to."

Giselle Blanco thought she’d escaped the claws of a possessive Alpha when she fled Omaha. But running straight into the arms of three dominant, dangerously intoxicating stepbrothers? That wasn’t part of the plan.

Khuraan—the bold, ruthless mafia Alpha of the East—wants to see how far she’ll bend before she breaks.
Zarkhan—the silent storm ruling the West—wants to bury himself in her until she forgets her own name.
And Hakkan—the seductive doctor with lethal instincts—knows just how to read her every secret desire... even the ones she’s too ashamed to whisper.

They want her to kneel. To beg. To surrender.
But Giselle has no intention of being claimed... until her own body betrays her.

Aria walks into a wedding searching for answers—only to lose everything in the space of a single, shattering moment. Rejected by the man she thought loved her, stripped of her job, mocked, dragged out, and left with nowhere to sleep, she wanders the night praying for mercy.
But mercy comes in the most unexpected form.
Magnus Thane Dravon, a man of power, pride, and impossible walls, crosses her path twice in one day—first mistaking her for trouble, then becoming the only person standing between her and real danger. He should’ve left her to fate. Instead, something in her fear, her stubborn courage, and her quiet vulnerability pulls at a part of him he thought no longer existed.
Two broken moments.
One unexpected connection.
A night that changes everything—and awakens feelings neither of them is ready to face.

My husband Lucius said: 'My real wife has returned.'
To keep him, for a month I clung to him, making love passionately...

"Is this your way of seducing me?" Clifton looked at the woman before him, wearing only a thin nightgown, her perfect curves exposed to his eyes.
"I admit, I'm attracted to you." Clifton suddenly lowered his head, his thin lips biting down on my collarbone, his fingers trailing down from my full chest, slipping between my thighs.
I was pinned down on the bed by Miranda, feeling the pleasure he brought to my body.
"Be good and let me in." Clifton thrust into me forcefully.
After suffering betrayal from her ex-husband and cousin, Miranda married the disfigured and disabled Clifton as his contract wife to cover her company's losses.
But an accident led Miranda to discover that Clifton was neither disfigured nor disabled—he was actually the underground king who controlled the entire city.
Miranda became afraid and prepared to leave this terrifying man, but Clifton kept dragging her back: "The contract is void. I want not only your body, but also your heart."
This time, will she truly fall in love with this dangerous man?

"It's still her." Three words.
That was all it took for the carefully constructed world of my last five years to shatter into dust at my feet. Zane didn't even have the decency to look away as he said it.
For twenty years, I had been the third wheel. The reliable shadow to Jovienne's brilliant sun. I had buried my own feelings for Zane so deep I almost forgot they existed, only daring to dig them up and confess them after Jovi had left the country and broken his heart.
We built a life. A marriage.
I truly believed, in my foolish, hopeful heart, that it was my happy ending.
Now Jovienne was back, and the illusion was gone. The love of my life saw me only as a consolation prize.
As my world collapses, the last person I expect comfort from is her husband—a man as cold and polished as he is powerful.
Vance sees the same betrayal in my eyes that he sees in his wife's.
Leaning in, his voice a dangerous whisper, he proposed the unthinkable: "They are living in the past. Let's be each other's revenge. What do you say, Nerissa?"
I should avoid at all costs. It was a game that could burn our broken worlds to the ground.
But as I looked into his eyes and saw the same raw, humiliating betrayal reflected back at me, the answer poised on my lips wasn't "no."
It was a terrifying, thrilling question. "What," I whispered, my voice steadier than I felt, "did you have in mind?"

I had just found out I was pregnant when my husband handed me the divorce papers.

He looked at me with pure disdain. "You're not even worthy of me. Abort the child and get out!"

In the end, on the very night of his grand wedding to his "true love," I was crushed in a horrific car accident.

It was only when he held my death certificate that he realized his love for me had already pierced his very soul.

Years later, I returned with a new identity and my twin toddlers in tow, only to be cornered by that same madman.

"I don't know you, sir. Please show some self-respect," I said coldly.

He trapped me against the wall, his voice trembling. "Is that so? Then tell me... why do your children have my blood running through their veins?"

Your typical rejection classic plot, but make it at school and in front of everybody! The queen bee and senior year's school president started their last school year with a blast of a gossip! But Sophia is not having it, she will not let him have it his way!

Blurb -
"I, Jacob Carter of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Sophia Addison of the Crescent Moon Pack as my Luna-to-be." He announced with his full voice. I can hear loud gasps and whispers throughout the place. They cannot believe that their goody two shoes of a senior year president is making this claim in front of everybody. What goody two shoes? More like a two faced jerk!
"Sophia Addison, your answer?" He spat. I can feel the people's anticipation.
"I, Sophia Addison of the Crescent Moon Pack, deny your rejection Jacob Carter." I smiled triumphantly at him and he just glared at me. I looked away and turned my back at him.
I wouldn’t just let myself suffer a rejection! Let us suffer both!

Sofia Jones is a seventeen-year-old human who has never met her father. Her mother is never around because she would rather spend her time at the club than with her daughter. She isn't the most popular girl in school and only has one friend, Ella. Sofia has been in love with her best friend's twin brother since middle school, but she knows they can never be together, not only because he is the most popular boy who has been bullying her since freshman year but also because he is her best friends brother.

Ethan Black is the most popular boy in school. He is the Quarterback of the football team, and he can have any girl he wants, except for the one he has been in love with since the fifth grade, Sofia. She is his twin sister's best friend, but that is not the only reason he can't have her. Ethan Black is a werewolf, along with his twin sister and the rest of his family, and Sofia is a human who knows nothing about werewolves. Ethan has been bullying her since freshman year. He feels it is better to push her away than to stay close to her. He knows he will meet his Mate soon since his eighteenth birthday is coming up, but something shocking happens. He discovers that Sofia is his Mate.

Now, he is determined to make Sofia his, but will he be able to do that after the way he has been treating her? How will Sofia react when she discovers werewolves and other supernatural beings exist? What happens when the Vampire King takes a liking to Sofia and wants to make her his? Who will Sofia end up with?

You will have to read to find out!

All I ever wanted was to be Luna in order to save my mother’s life. I thought Alpha Beckett would be just the key, but I was wrong.
~
“I, Alpha Beckett of Ashridge Pack, by the name of the moon goddess, reject you as my mate!”
~
A rejection.
A bond severed.

But life had other plans for me in the form of Xander Theon Grayson, hockey star, golden boy of NorthVale High, A-star student. But what I didn’t know is that he’s an Alpha with a curse.

I need him, and he needs me.

So we signed a fake mate contract. But it comes with a lot more than I expected: a jealous ex, mysterious powers that level me up in a system, a quest to find my origin.

But the question in my mind is: Can I save my mother’s life? Can this bond between Xander and I blossom into something real, even something beautiful?

When her father fled with his mistress, leaving crushing debts behind, Freya Gilbert had nowhere to turn. Crashing Alpha Jonas's welcome ceremony in desperation, she never expected to find her fated mate there. But it wasn't gentle Jonas who made her wolf howl "mate." It was the dangerous, devastatingly powerful Niklaus Lockwood.
One scorching night of passion sealed her fate.
Niklaus already had his perfect chosen mate, the elegant Rebekah. Unwilling to abandon his plans, he offered Freya a cold business deal: be his contract Luna for three years, play the perfect wife in public, and he'd clear her debts. When their arrangement expired, she'd accept his rejection and disappear quietly.
Freya thought she could survive a loveless marriage. She was wrong.
Three years later, she's fallen hopelessly for the Alpha who sees her as nothing more than a gold-digging Omega. On their anniversary night, the very day their contract expires, Niklaus chooses Rebekah.
The message couldn't be clearer.
But when Freya files for divorce and moves out first, Niklaus's carefully controlled world shatters. The mate bond he's suppressed for years, and he never expected his obedient, compliant wife to actually leave him.
"I, Freya Gilbert, reject you, Niklaus Lockwood."
The words that should have set them both free only ignite a fire that threatens to consume them both.
Can a love born from a business contract survive the flames of pride and betrayal? Or will the most powerful Alpha in the territory lose his true mate because he was too blind to see what was right in front of him?
When the contract ends, the real battle for love begins.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Please, what?”

I ran my wet tongue through my dry lips. Voice barely above a whisper. “Please… please... please make me… make me… make me your little bitch.”

The words tasted bitter and filthy on my tongue. I hated myself for saying them. Hated how my cock twitched when I did.

“I can’t hear you, Jones,” He said, voice hard, low and commanding. “Louder.”

I swallowed again, eyes stinging. “Please make me your little bitch.”

“A little louder.”

My cheeks burned. I forced the words out stronger this time. “Please make me your little bitch.”

He smirked, slow and satisfied. The look in his eyes made my stomach flip.

“Good boy,” He murmured. “Now listen carefully, Jones. If you agree to this, you’re mine. Completely. You don't look at other men. You don’t think about them. You don’t even dream about them. Everything about you; your mouth, your ass, your cock, your body… even your thoughts, belongs to me. All of it. I get to treat and use you however and whenever I want. Rough. Gentle. Mean. Filthy. You take it all. And you praise me for it. Understood?”

I hesitated, heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to explode. The last bit of resistance flickered. My mind was screaming no; to get up, run and never look back.

“Well?” He urged, thumb still holding my chin.

I closed my eyes for half a second, detesting every inch of my being. Then I nodded, voice small. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I understand.”

“Good.”

...

Shane Blackwood is his name.

And he's a monster.

He's toxic, cruel and psychotic beyond your wildest imagination.

I knew all this.

And yet, I signed that stupid agreement.

And now... he owns me.

Completely.

There's no escape.

[This is a dark erotica MM. Rated 18+]

Five years ago, the Savage family poisoned my parents, broke both my legs, and threw me into the river. I barely survived — pulled out by passing mercenaries, I spent five years building an army that answers only to me.

Today, five years later, I’ve returned with that army for revenge. I thought they would be terrified and beg for mercy. I never imagined they’d be insane enough to kidnap my daughter — a daughter I didn’t even know existed, Mia.

She’s crying in an abandoned warehouse, her tiny hand clutching an old coat I left behind five years ago, calling out “Daddy.”

My wife, to save her, is taking off her dress in front of another man.

Outside the warehouse, ten thousand soldiers are waiting for my command.

And in my heart, there is only one thought: kill them all.