Semua Bab Touch me tender, Break me wild: A Steamy, Compilation: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Zendaya~~ "I will forgive you." My bottom lip trembles. "Only if you make me cum." I point to my bag where the fake cock could be seen. "It has helped me for the past three years but it doesn't stop the ache I always feel. It hurts so much. I've missed you deep inside me, Malacia. You don't know how much I have." He stared at me, licking his lips. "I would say the same too, Zee. I searched the entire New York just to find you, but fate was against me all the time. I've always craved your touch every fucking night, and never did I gave up on my search. I'm so sorry for..." Tears gather again. "Please stop talking and relieve me of this fucking ache, pleaseee.." I reach down, tugging at his belt before I carefully peel the hem of his trousers. Thanks to the torchlight of his phones still on, I was able to see his huge budge. I smile excitedly. It's been so fucking long. He stood still as I set the waistband of his trouser under his balls. I didn't care any less as the trou

Some say pleasure is sinful. Others call it divine. But no one escapes it. Because pleasure doesn’t ask for permission — it invades, it consumes, and it teaches. It reminds us that to be human is to crave, to surrender, to be undone. STORY 2: WHAT A CRAZY ROYAL FAMILY ~ Eliara ~ They say an Alpha's heart belongs to his pack. I just never realized that meant there'd be no room left for me. Keidō was gone. Again. The scent of him, sharp pine and damp earth, still clung to the silk sheets, a cruel mockery of his presence. My body pulsed with a desperate heat, a fire he had ignited and then abandoned, leaving me to burn alone. My heat had arrived yesterday, a tempest of desire crashing through my veins, demanding release, demanding 'him'. But Keidō, my stoic Alpha, saw only the pack, the looming threat of war. His touch, when it came, was brief, a fleeting brush against my cheek before he turned, his gaze distant, already on the horizon. “Eliara, I must go.” His voice, a low

The heavy wooden door groaned as Kace shoved it open, his chest heaving from the sprint through the war-torn corridors. “Luna, we are under attack. The alpha asked me to come here and protect…” The scent of blood and smoke clung to his skin, but it was the thick, musky aroma of arousal that hit him first as he stumbled into the dimly lit chamber. The flickering light cast long shadows across the stone walls, illuminating the scene before him in stark, golden strokes. “....you" he finished. Eliara lay sprawled across the sheets, her pale thighs splayed wide, her back arched in desperate abandon. Her usual regal composure was gone, replaced by something raw and trembling. Selene knelt between her legs, her dark hair spilling over Eliara’s trembling stomach as her tongue worked in deep, hungry strokes. The wet sounds filled the room—sloppy, obscene—each lap of Selene’s tongue drawing a broken whimper from Eliara’s lips. Kace’s boots scuffed against the stone as he froze, his breat

The sun hung low in the sky as Keidō pushed through the palace gates, his body still sore from the fight and the wild fuck with Celeste in the glade. Dust and blood caked his clothes, but his mind was fixed on one thing: getting back to Eliara. His Luna. The woman he'd left burning in heat while he chased rogues through the woods. Guilt gnawed at him, mixed with the fresh memory of Celeste's tight pussy gripping his cock. He shook it off, striding down the stone corridors with purpose. Servants scattered out of his way, their eyes downcast, whispering about the alpha's return. His chambers were at the end of the hall, the heavy door carved with wolf motifs. Keidō shoved it open, the familiar scent hitting him first—warm furs, polished wood, and then... something thicker. Sex. Thick and heavy, like sweat and cum soaked into the air. Eliara's smell, that sweet-savory tang of her after a good pounding, filled the room. His cock stirred despite the exhaustion, imagining her writhing on

He pulled out, cock shiny with spit, and stalked to the door naked. Lydia scrambled up, grabbing a robe from a chair, her heart racing. Through the window, she saw shadows—three figures in cloaks, chanting low. Witch hunters, drawn by the magic burst. Ragnar burst out the door with a roar, claws out. The fight was brutal. He slashed one across the chest, blood spraying. Another threw a spell, blue light hitting his side, burning fur. He howled in pain, tackling the guy, fangs ripping throat. The third ran a knife at his back, but Lydia—bond fueling her—leaped out, her fangs bared. She bit the hunter's neck, sucking deep, his blood hot and coppery. Strength surged deep inside; the bond made her fast, strong. Together, they finished it. Ragnar snapped the last neck, their bodies crumpling in the mud. He turned to her, blood on his face, cock still hard. "You fought like a wolf. Bond's working." But drama lingered—pain from the spell burned his side, and Lydia felt it too, like fire