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WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

Do you believe in werewolves? Because I don’t. At least, I didn’t until the night I saved one. I was ten years old, foolish enough to protect a stranger too handsome to die. I didn’t know he was a werewolf… or an alpha. That night, he smirked and made me promise: “When you grow up, you’ll be my wife. And little girl, promises can’t be broken.” Fifteen years later, I graduate and receive a job invitation I never applied for assistant to Malaki, the most powerful man in the city. Everyone fears him. OilTech may be his company, but the truth is darker. Behind the empire hides a mafia boss. Behind the mafia boss hides… a werewolf. The same werewolf my family has hunted for centuries. The same alpha whose pack my father destroyed. Now Malaki wants revenge. And he’s come for me his bride, his possession, his pet. How do you escape a 1000-year-old werewolf who swore you were his?

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I've sculpted a character based on my boss, Jacob Carter, in my smutty novel. Jacob, who's a cold, distant, and stern man in reality, is reduced to a lovesick simp in my novel. Apparently, he's maddeningly in love with me there. But when I tender my resignation letter later on, Jacob rips it into shreds before cornering me. "Oh? Are you planning to leave now that you've finished writing that novel of yours? How dare you discard me as soon as you're done with me! What am I, a cheap escort?"

Every new job comes with trials. But of all of them, I never could have speculated my boss would end up being an alpha. Not the kind that commands a boardroom with his gaze alone, despite the fact he can do that too, but the kind that can't be beneath the shades of a full moon without shedding his human form into that of the supernatural creature. As desperate as I am for this job, I am not willing to put my life in the line for a paycheck to a shadow world beneath our own. However, he thinks independence away from him is the real danger. For it, I cannot escape the peril that certainly follows, along with my growing attraction to him.

I'm at a job interview at a major company. One of the interviewers is my father, Edgar Booker, whom I haven't seen in ten years. He wears a sharp suit and carries himself with an imposing presence. When he sweeps his indifferent gaze over me, he pauses for a rare moment. After the interview ends, the HR manager, Jesse Dorsey, pulls me aside. "You're Mr. Booker's son, right? He says you can start next week." I smile faintly and slowly tear up the offer letter. "No, thanks. I don't want to work with a murderer."