Stormfront

Welcome to P*rnstation. No plot. No sweetness. No fade-to-black. Just raw, dripping, filthy s*x that will leave you soaking and aching for more. From massive c*cks stretching tight holes to messy cream-filled endings, each story in this collection is designed to make you cum as you read. If you’re ready for wall-slamming f*cks, obscene dirty talk, and shameless pleasure that never stops, this is your station. One-handed reading highly recommended.

Big, sexy bikers who know how to please a lady? Yeah, sign me up for that! Murder, betrayal, and a mystery to be solved? Well, if life gives you lemons and that... Welcome to the city of Fairfax, where deaths are mysteriously covered up, the cops are corrupt, and the only one fighting for justice is the Wolf Riders MC. The Lone Wolf (Cracker's and Steel's story) The She Wolf (Bitpull's and Prez's story) The Rogue Wolf (Rose's and Knives's story)

Get away from me Lucas." Bennett growled, his claws extending. But Lucas grabbed him and turned him around, his clothed bulge pressing into Bennett. "You know you want this, little wolf." And deep-down, as Lucas grinded into him, he realized. He did want this. ~~~ Bennett Cross was born to lead the Wolf Crest Pack, he is fierce, reckless, and loyal to the blood feud passed down through generations. The Storms have always been the enemy. It started with his great-grandfather, poisoned in a border war, and every Cross since then has carried that hatred like a second skin. Lucas Storm, son of the Eastern Howl Pack Alpha, is everything Bennett can't stand. He is striking, arrogant, and maddeningly perfect. They’ve fought tooth and claw since childhood, fueled by the war their fathers never ended. But when fate throws a cruel twist on Bennett’s eighteenth birthday, the enemy he loathes becomes the mate his wolf craves. Bennett doesn’t want him, and Lucas sure as hell doesn't need him. Yet fate doesn’t ask for their permission. Now, two heirs of rival packs are bound by a bond stronger than decades of hate or bloodlines.

Legend says that that one day, far far away a girl would be born. With the greatest power any creature had ever seen. Her hair would be silky, shiny like a diamond and black like coal, her purple eyes will have men on their knees. Nations would fight to have her as one of them. Kings will clash to have. When Storm's foster parents found her as a baby on their doorstep, her purple eyes round and blazing like fire, they took her in, raising her as an ordinary Omega, while trying their best to hide what she was because thye understood the danger that would come with it. So years, when Storm found her mate, the Alpha of the pack..she was rejected and humilated cos she was nothing but a slave. Or so he thought. She sought solace in another pack, where she was welcomed and her second chance mate turns out to be the Alpha too. Storm gets accepted because of her power so how will she grow to trust and love her new mate is she cant tell whether he was sincere or just after her powers? And when her first mate discovers who she was and comes back to reclaim her, what would be of her?

[MATURE CONTENT: DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE] A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," He tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.

On the night the hurricane is about to hit us, my brother-in-law, George Madden, calls again right after the Extreme Wind Warnings are issued for a Category 5 hurricane. When I hear his hysterical sobbing on the phone, I calmly hand the phone to my wife, Taylor Cochran, who is next to me, and continue sealing the balcony. I don't know what he says on the other end of the line, but Taylor keeps responding and nodding repeatedly before putting on her raincoat and turning to me with an apologetic smile on her face. "Honey, George's window just broke, and Ryan won't stop crying. It's hard for him to take care of his son by himself. I'll go and pop by their house and check on him and Ryan. But I'll make sure to be back before the hurricane hits." It's always like this between us. Everything she tells me is always only an announcement with no room for discussion. Things have never changed over the past five years of our marriage. George will always call every time there's a heavy storm or some thunder and lightning, asking for Taylor to go over. He claims it's from some PTSD or something. In the past, I always get upset and fight with Taylor about it. However, she keeps refuting that, "Tiffany died too young, leaving him to raise Ryan on his own. He doesn't have it easy because he knows nothing about motherhood. We should help him as much as we can. "You're a strong man, aren't you? You're fully able to take care of yourself and our Timmy, can't you?" A strong wind blasts right through the glass windows, and a broken shard cuts into my leg, leaving a nasty, bloody gash behind. I stroke the wool sweater next to me that I still haven't finished knitting. After tonight, Timmy and I are not going to need Taylor by our side anymore.