Ambiguous

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

I bought a breathtakingly handsome and sculpted werewolf slave from the magic black market. His rock-hard abs were on full display, and his deep V-lines pointed straight down into his tight, low-slung pants. But once I got him home, it was clear something was very wrong. A low, suppressed growl rumbled constantly in his throat. He stared at me with his golden wolf eyes, looking like he wanted to tear me apart and devour me whole. His body burned like a walking furnace. I thought he had wolfsbane fever and frantically contacted the seller. The seller was silent for three seconds after hearing my description. [My dear witch, is it possible he isn't sick, but just...hungry?] [The kind of hungry...that makes a werewolf want to pin you to a wall and sink his fangs into your neck to mark you?]

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

Since I moved into this apartment, I kept dreaming about a man every time I fell asleep. The man told me he was my husband. However, I had only just started college. When I woke up, my lower back ached, and my body felt sore. My neighbor was a psychologist, and he prescribed some medication to help me sleep. Unfortunately, the dreams became even more real. One night, the man leaned close to my ear and whispered, “You can’t escape me.”

"Coach, please stop. I came here to learn how to drive, not to have an affair." Inside the instructor's car, because I kept failing to control the clutch, Coach Reeves, who happened to be my husband's friend, made me sit on his lap to teach me. The problem was, I was wearing a short skirt that day, and underneath it, I wasn't even wearing safety shorts. Even worse, he actually pulled his member out and pressed it straight against me.

Have you ever heard of this secret, mysterious cruise? On a cruise ship that traverses the expansive ocean on New Year's Eve, rows of beautiful yet blind masseuses wait to be selected. To search for my sister, I pretend to be blind and think of a way to sneak onboard that cruise ship. A bigwig selects me and takes me back to his suite. He tilts my jaw and waves a hand before my eyes. "Are you really blind? Let's try something different, then…"

When news of Tanya Nice's pregnancy is exposed, she's lying next to Luciano Ascrofi, the new Don of the Ascrofi family. Since the ex-Don has already passed away, the paparazzi decide to make Tanya's pregnancy the next biggest scandal. They keep publishing all the romantic scandals related to her while making speculations about whose baby she will eventually give birth to. But Luciano doesn't seem to mind at all. His hand is placed over Tanya's flat belly so that he could feel the tiny life growing within her womb. It's then Tanya rolls on her side to nuzzle into Luciano's chest. Both of them are stuck in an intimate position, as though they are a couple who are madly in love with each other. But Tanya's gaze remains calm. Her voice is tender as always. "Will you kill this baby?" Luciano merely chuckles softly in return. Then, he presses a kiss on her forehead. "Don't overthink it, my darling stepmother."

"Ah… Slow down… My husband hasn't even ended the call yet…" I slump on the floor with my butt raised high. As I listen to my husband's instructions, I continue to shift positions every now and then. Meanwhile, the gym trainer has one hand latching onto my hip while smacking my butt heavily with the other. Under my husband's instructions, he thrusts forward heavily…

I've been pent up for far so long that my hormones are going out of balance. So, I decide to visit a massage parlor that my best friend has recommended to me, hoping that I can completely get rid of the sense of emptiness that's inside me. When the young and well-built masseuse begins caressing me with his scalding palms, I feel the flames of lust burning brighter within me to the point they are about to swallow my rationality whole…