Wrong Desires

I woke up with a slight headache and a very wet pussy.Memories from last night flooded in immediately — my tits out, begging my stepfather to fuck me, his tongue buried deep inside me while I screamed “Daddy.” My face burned with embarrassment… but my body was burning with something much stronger.I wanted him even more now that I was sober.I took a quick shower, slipped on a tiny white tank top with no bra and a pair of pink cotton shorts that barely covered my ass, then headed downstairs. My heart was pounding. Part of me hoped Kevin would pretend last night never happened. Another, much bigger part of me was ready to push him until he broke.But the second I stepped into the dining area, my stomach dropped like a rock.Mom was sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone like she always did. Coffee in one hand, perfectly styled hair, expensive blouse –looking every bit the successful businesswoman who had zero time for her own daughter.“Mom?” My voice came out smaller than

NoraI used to think love would save me.Three years of my life went into Asher like I was building something that would last. I covered for him when he fucked up with the elders. I stayed up with him after brutal training sessions, rubbing the knots out of his shoulders while he talked about how one day he’d lead the pack and I’d stand right there beside him as Luna. I let him knot me during my heats even when it left me sore for days, because he said it proved I was his. I swallowed every promise he fed me — that I mattered, that the pack would see my strength, that I wasn’t just some girl he was passing time with.All bullshit. Fuckng bull shit!The night he rejected me in front of the pack still sits in my chest like a bruise that won’t fade. His voice was so flat. Like he was reading off a list. ‘You’re too emotional. Too weak. The pack needs someone who can actually stand next to me.’ I stood there in that stupid black dress I’d worn for him and felt something inside me crack f

I got on my hands and knees like he told me to.The bed creaked under my weight. My dress was already on the floor somewhere behind me. I was completely naked now, ass up, face down against the sheets that still smelled like cheap detergent and my own perfume from earlier. My knees were spread. I could feel how exposed I was — my pussy still swollen and leaking from the club bathroom, thighs sticky.Kael didn’t move right away.I heard the soft sound of him setting my phone down on the nightstand. Then the rustle of clothes. A belt buckle. The quiet thud of his shoes hitting the floor. Every sound made my stomach twist tighter. This man was planning to destroy me. Oh moon goddess, help this poor cat of mine!Then his hand was on me.Big. Warm. Rough from years of being Alpha. He dragged his palm slowly down my spine, over the curve of my ass, and between my legs without any warning. Two thick fingers pushed straight into my cunt.I gasped into the mattress.“Still full of my cum,” he

I stood in front of the cracked mirror in my tiny bathroom and stared at myself.The black dress I’d chosen was simple, but it hugged my body in a way that made me look almost… beautiful. My hair fell in loose waves around my shoulders, and even with the faint bruise on my neck from Asher’s hand, I looked good. Stronger than I felt.‘What good is beauty,’ I thought bitterly, ‘when you’re about to spend the rest of your life scrubbing toilet floors and spreading your legs for strangers in some pack that doesn’t even know your name?’I cursed the Moon Goddess under my breath as I stepped out into the cool night air. If being born an omega wasn’t already a curse, now I was being sold like cattle. The thought made my stomach twist.But then I remembered Asher’s face.The way the color drained from it when he watched that video. The way his hands shook. The pure, broken rage in his eyes when he realized his own father had fucked me better than he ever could. That memory was the only warmth

LaylaI was fucked!Not the kind of fucked that left you sore and smiling the next morning. The kind that left you broke, broken, and staring down the barrel of a life you couldn’t afford.Eighty-seven thousand dollars.The number stared back at me from the loan statement like a death sentence. Tuition for next semester. The medical bills Mom racked up during her last “spiritual awakening” in Bali. The credit cards I’d been juggling since she disappeared again—this time to some yacht in the Mediterranean with a man whose name she probably didn’t even know.And the worst part? The only person who could fix it was the one man I wasn’t allowed to want.Johnny Ross. My stepfather.He’d married my mother two years ago in a whirlwind ceremony I wasn’t invited to. I came home from college one weekend and there he was—six-foot-three of pure, ruthless power in a tailored black suit, storm-gray eyes, and a voice that could make a girl forget her own name. He never raised his voice. He didn’t ne