Arti Pampering

I'm a killer who accidentally sleeps with a mafia boss twice. The first time, I walk away without saying anything, leaving behind nothing but a note and a bank card. "Fantastic night. Thanks." The second time, he lands himself at the top of the killer hit list and has a sky-high bounty placed on him. Later, he traps me in his room as I fade in and out of consciousness, drowning in his presence. He holds my hand and aims my gun at himself with a chuckle. "You're shaking so badly. Can you even keep your gun steady?"

After claiming another pack, Kyler Vaughn of the Frostfang Pack was now the most powerful Alpha in the western region. But in all that glory, he seemed to have forgotten someone. Me, his destined mate, Elsa Thorne. Seven years ago, I took a poisoned strike meant for him. Because of that, I never awakened my wolf and was left a weak Omega. A year ago, he promised that once he became the strongest Alpha in the west, we would hold our bonding ceremony. Now that he had achieved it, my heart leapt as I ran to his study, full of hope. The door was slightly open, and I heard his voice. "We'll move forward with the plan tomorrow. Split into two teams, one for the Ember Pack and the other for the Shadow Pack." Another voice hesitated. "But Ms. Thorne..." "Why mention that useless Omega? She'll only slow us down. Enough of her." I froze outside the door, my excitement twisting into a bitter ache. I remembered the times he went on missions, while I could only wait in our territory for his return. So, this was how he actually saw me. A stubborn fire rose in me. I would go to the new territories and prove I wasn't useless. The next day, I disguised myself as a Warrior and stood at the rally point. When asked which team I wanted, the names Shadow Pack and Ember Pack spun in my mind. His disdainful gaze leaving me flustered, I blurted out, "The Ember Pack! I want to go to the Ember Pack!" I didn't know that my rushed choice would throw me headfirst into an unknown whirlpool...

My online boyfriend suddenly sent me a photo of his lunch—a steaming hot steak fresh off the grill. [Praise me, baby! I'm being a good boy and eating my lunch!] I was just about to send 'good boy' when my eyes darted downward, and I saw the conspicuous red letters on the edge of his plate. Mike Tech. What a coincidence—I worked at Mike Tech too… My heart skipped a beat as I froze right then, my mind going blank. But could it be? My online boyfriend, whom I had met over a year ago… was right there beside me?

At the staff meeting, I was singled out and criticized by the supervisor. The supervisor said that someone had reported issues with my work attitude and demanded an immediate explanation. My face was displayed on the big screen at the meeting, subjected to public scrutiny. Just as I was feeling overwhelmed, the face of our boss appeared in my camera frame."Tell me what’s the problem.”

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?]

At a concert, I went wild, shouting at the top idol on stage, “Tony Townsend, spray on my face!” That night, my brother had me pinned against the ancestral altar, a ruler pressing down on the back of my neck. “Lift your head. Tell me, what did you want that idol to do to you?” Later, he shoved me down onto the mattress, his fingertips grinding against my swollen lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

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?"

The first time I shared a bed with a man, it was with my best friend. The next morning, he kissed me secretly and promised to take responsibility for me in the future.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

"Skylar, here's a hundred for the breakup. Don't crawl back." Mack flung the bill at my face like he was doing charity work. "Winona's the Frostmoon Pack's Beta's daughter. She'll save me twenty years of hustle. You? Still drowning in student loans." I eyed Winona's designer bag—logo halfway printed like it gave up mid-stitch. "You're sure this is a breakup?" "Locked in. Engagement party's tonight at Lunara Estate. You can crash if you want a pity plate. Might be your only shot inside." Door slammed. I turned to the hot wolf crouched by the ditch, mid-bite on a rabbit leg. "Hundred bucks. I'm renting you for two hours." He arched a brow, blood slick on his lips. "That's cute. But for that price? You're barely getting a paw."