How Does Ride With Me End?

Grace Anderson is a striking young lady with a no-nonsense and inimical attitude. She barely smiles or laughs, the feeling of pure happiness has been rare to her. She has acquired so many scars and life has thought her a very valuable lesson about trust. Dean Ryan is a good looking young man with a sanguine personality. He always has a smile on his face and never fails to spread his cheerful spirit. On Grace's first day of college, the two meet in an unusual way when Dean almost runs her over with his car in front of an ice cream stand. Although the two are opposites, a friendship forms between them and as time passes by and they begin to learn a lot about each other, Grace finds herself indeed trusting him. Dean was in love with her. He loved everything about her. Every. Single. Flaw. He loved the way she always bit her lip. He loved the way his name rolled out of her mouth. He loved the way her hand fit in his like they were made for each other. He loved how much she loved ice cream. He loved how passionate she was about poetry. One could say he was obsessed. But love has to have a little bit of obsession to it, right? It wasn't all smiles and roses with both of them but the love they had for one another was reason enough to see past anything. But as every love story has a beginning, so it does an ending.

“True love stories never have endings.” Dean said softly. “Richard Bach.” I nodded. “You taught me that quote the night I kissed you for the first time.” He continued, his fingers weaving through loose hair around my face. “And I held on to that every day since.”

TITLE: RIDE ME MORE, DADDY BLURB: 18+ | Filthy Forbidden Rides for the Terminally Depraved ‼️ Enter Only If You’re Ready to Sin ‼️ This collection drags you into dark, addictive fantasies where innocent young women discover the thrill of straddling power, control, and raw obsession. Every story drips with massive age gaps, possessive older men who demand total submission, and desperate girls who learn they were born to ride their Daddy until they break. Expect intense breeding obsession, creamy creampies that overflow, risky public rides, dominant dirty talk, and “good girls” turned into cock hungry riders who can’t stop bouncing on the one man they should fear. No slow vanilla bullshit just thick cocks, soaked thighs, and young fertile bodies claimed hard in every forbidden position. These are full filthy multi chapter rides: shy college girls learning to ride reverse cowgirl in luxury cars, curious step nieces sneaking onto Daddy’s lap during family trips, spoiled brats broken on ranch saddles, and innocent runaways turned into eager little riders in penthouse suites. They all end up addicted, begging “Ride me more, Daddy… fill me deeper” while their bellies swell with the consequences. Open only if you want to get wet, guilty, and completely ruined.

He needed my bone marrow to live. I gave it to him, and lost my heart in the process. Now my ex is out there living his best life- a baby on the way, fame on the track, and a new woman in his arms... while I can’t even cry without my heart aching. Then his brother showed up. Elias Carter, the cruel, sinfully dangerous biker who shouldn’t even know my name. But he knows more than that. He knows what I am. A wolf. Just like him. He doesn’t want love. He wants to claim me, use me, break me. I swore I’d never let him. But somehow… I ended up wearing his ring. Now I’m trapped in a marriage built on secrets, lies, and a desire that burns too deep to deny. And the cruelest part? The more I try to hate him, the more my heart forgets how.

After going bankrupt, I do the unthinkable for my gravely ill younger brother, Ricky Ashford, and climb into the bed of Damien Blackwood, the notorious mafia boss. When his smoldering gaze sweeps over my shirtless body, I stay perfectly still. The reason is that I'm afraid to set off this infamous man in front of me. However, the next instant, his lips are everywhere on my skin, and the night dissolves into a wild, reckless blur. For three years, I endure every torment in his bed. Thoughts of escape and even suicide cross my mind, but the fact that my brother is fighting for his life in the ICU keeps me going. One day, I accidentally overhear him speaking with his childhood friend, Chloe Sterling. "How long do you plan to toy with your enemy's daughter? You're not falling for her, are you?" "Don't be absurd." "And what about her sickly brother?" "He died long ago." The last thread holding me together snaps. Now, there is no reason left to live. As I prepare to end my life by burning charcoal, tears well up in his eyes as he pleads for me not to leave.

In the eighth year of helping Keith Hunter pay off his debts, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I tested the waters and asked him, half joking, "If I got cancer, would you save me?" He laughed, saying I was overthinking it. Then he added firmly, "If it ever came to that, I would sell my blood to pay for your treatment." I lay awake all night, tossing and turning, still feeling like I couldn't drag him down with me. Before taking a sleeping pill, a notification popped up on my phone about a social media post. [How do I dump an older woman who paid off my debts for eight years without too much drama?] The profile picture looked eerily like Keith's silhouette from behind. He wrote, [Eight years ago, my family went bankrupt. She stuck with me, living off dry toast and squeezing into a rented apartment. She helped me pay back over 600 thousand dollars in debt. [Back then, I thought she was innocent and cute. Now, I feel like she's just a materialistic woman putting on an act. [Last month, she even asked whether I would save her if she got cancer. How does someone even ask that? [Obviously, she was trying to get money out of me. Good thing I didn't tell her that my family recovered three years ago. [Now, my family has arranged a fiancée for me. She's the daughter of a publicly listed company. [I want to cut things off with my girlfriend, but I'm afraid she'll cling to me. After all, she wasted a lot of her youth on me.] By the time I finished reading, I had crushed the stomach cancer diagnosis in my hand into a wrinkled mess.