Ravage

Haunted and tortured by her past and living with the belief that her mother is dead, Kaitlyn navigates a world where only 500 years ago an ancient race declared war with the warriors known in Asgard as the Valkyries. Now in the present those same whispers are resurging with deadly precision. Kaitlyn must now embark on a journey with her girlfriend Samantha, and her sisters Olivia and Brittany, along with the assistance from another person, to uncover the truth about not only her past--but also learn how to prevent the extinction of her fellow Valkyries as they get caught up in the midst of the Olden War. In order to survive, she will have to call on not only her physical abilities but others as well as she decesdends deeper into the Darkness--a dark and troubled web of lies and deceit in order to solve the riddle of her dark and troubled past. But there's also something that she must ask herself. Just how far will she allow her trust to go, before she can't trust anyone ever again?

“Spread your legs, Cat.” His voice was cold, and left no room for argument. “Why?” “Because we’re going to fuck you until you’re crying and begging us to stop—and we won’t stop until we’re thoroughly satisfied. *** One house. Two monsters. And a bet that changed everything. I thought I could survive moving into the mansion with my new stepbrothers, Jackson and Brandon. They are breathtakingly gorgeous, dangerous, and they hate me. But I didn't realize how much I hated them back—until they trapped me in my own bedroom and made my body betray every secret I was keeping. I thought the heat between us was real. I thought the way they looked at me meant I was finally seen. I was wrong. I was just a thousand-dollar wager. A game they played to ruin my mother & kick us back to the gutter where they think we belong. They called me "easy." They called me "mid." They laughed about how I leaked for them while they planned to toss me aside. But they made one fatal mistake: they showed me their weakness.

18+ WARNING: This story contains extreme explicit content, including non-consensual to consensual themes, group sex, breeding, public humiliation, degradation, taboo elements, rough anal, multiple partners, and graphic sexual acts. Not suitable for readers under 18. Proceed with caution – this is dark, filthy erotica with no redemption arc. I was Daddy's innocent little princess, locked away and untouched. Then his enemies took me. They fucked me hard, filled me up, made me come until I screamed their names. At first I hated it. Now I crave it. Every cock, every load, every public humiliation. Daddy saw me ruined and dripping, and I still begged for more. I'm not his anymore. I'm theirs. Completely broken, completely addicted, and I never want it to stop.

"Fuck.." I moan as my feverish skin makes me dizzy with lust. [Yes.] "Evet, Mila. You make me want to ravage you when I should be disgusted by the thought of even touching you." He mutters. "But I'm not. Instead, everything about you makes me mad with desire and I can not control it. God's, I tried to but I don't want to anymore." He removes his hand from the wall, wrapping his fingers around my jaw and he forces me to stare up at him. "You've already had a taste of me and one taste is all you get." I swallow loudly, throwing his words back at him. >>> When it comes to my prince charming, my life has been anything but a fairytale. The Esposito family robbed me of all I held dear to my heart. From the depths of my dignity to the depths of my son. I was living in continual terror; my body, as well as my trust and beliefs, were being exploited. Until one fateful day, I gained the strength to flee, dashing into an Irish bar and meeting a Turkish man. I stayed with him for the night before being compelled to return to the house of terrors. After being thrown down a flight of stairs 37 weeks later, I gave birth to my son. I knew who the father was the moment my son's gaze met mine, but I opted to keep it to myself. However, destiny had other plans for me, and I begged my son's biological father for protection as I fled the Italian mafia. We will work together to rescue our son and demolish their network, all while finding love along the way. My name is Mila Starkk, and this is my Screwed Up Love Story.

Three women. And maybe more... Three stories. And more... All soaked in desire that doesn't care about rules, vows, or shame. These aren't tales of love-they're confessions of raw, hungry need. Lust that makes your cünt throb, your cöck twitch, your breath catch. Pages moist with sweat, wet with cūm, dripping with sin. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands-everything presses, slides, and fūcks in ways that make your pulse race. You'll read about pūssies dripping, cöcks hard and throbbing, mouths gagging and sūcking, āss cheeks spread, tongues sliding inside folds, fingers plunging deep. Every page pulses with heat, with mōans you can feel, with bodies colliding and fücking without mercy. Inside, nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. A married woman spreads wide for her forbidden lover. A professor trembles as her student takes her mouth. A stranger is bound and worshiped, every inch of her body devoured. And that's just the beginning. Every filthy craving, every desperate mōan, every secret you've never dared whisper-it's here. Women devour women. Men ravage men. Lovers cross every line they shouldn't. So go on. Pretend your fingers aren't twitching to turn the page. Pretend your thighs aren't already wet. Pretend your cöck isn't straining. But once you give in... once your eyes slide across the first word... you'll feel it- the slow, dirty pull between your thighs, the rush of want crawling through you, your body answering before your mind does. And from that moment- you don't just read it. You become it. Your püssy, your cöck, your jūices, your mōans, your filthy, trembling need-all mine to claim, to taste, to drive wild. So tell me-would you be mine? Would you dare turn these cūm-stained pages?

Without warning, Ezra drags me over to his desk in the corner of the study room and shoves me towards it. There, he rips my dress and pulls my arms behind me, tying both my wrists with the torn cloth. It hurts. I shake my head and a strangled sob escapes my lips. “Part your legs, Alayna.” he growls I try to free my hands but this results in him tightening the cloth further. Ezra presses his himself against my back. “Spread. Your. Legs.” *** The black sheep. The unwanted one. The second choice. Those were the names I grew up with. But when my sister mysteriously vanished on her wedding day, I was forced to take on another name, the Luna. “I never loved you. You’re nothing to me but a substitute.” Ezra's words burn in my mind every night as I lay in his bed, letting him ravage and abuse my body. Tears spring to my eyes with every thrust, with every slap, with every bite of his wolf fangs. It was never meant to be like this, I was never meant to be his Luna, I was never meant to be his whore. He was meant to marry my sister, the beautiful, strong and brave she-wolf of our family. Instead, he ended up with a mute omega; me. My name is Alayna Morningstar. And this is my story.