Bed Wetting Diaper Story

3 years ago, I faked a pregnancy to steal half a million dollars from my mate. I felt as if I didn’t have any other choice as I had to pay my brother’s ransom or let him die. Now, I would rather die than spend another day being treated with icy, bitter resentment. My name is Rachel Flores and I rejected my alpha mate because I’m ready to live, not just survive! *** "Who are you?" I came awake with a jerk, disoriented and aching all over. A heavy male body lay beside me---we were both naked except for the sheet covering our bodies. Embarrassment stained my skin bright red. I searched my memories of the night before, trying to figure out how I had gotten here while attempting to wrap the sheet around my body. I stopped when I realized I'd leave my bed partner totally nude. My skin felt too hot and too tight as I tried to work out how to get myself out of the situation. I wasn't used to being around naked men even if I was a werewolf. We cared about propriety no matter what humans thought! I remembered myself saying over and over, "I'm your mate!" I eased myself off the bed to look for clothes. I tried to be as quiet as I could so I didn't wake up the stranger. I didn't take the sheet to spare his decency, instead sacrificing my own modesty: I'd rather be caught naked than have to face a naked man I'd evidently seduced with all the subtlety of a bitch in heat! His scent was all over me, all over everything really. Rich and masculine...

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

Keerthi felt a hand under her chin ,coaxing her to look up ,as she met with warm brown eyes ,in their darkest shade. Her eyes went to her husband's lips, wetting her own involuntarily, when she felt Vikram's hold tighten. She blushed, looking down, her face felt on fire. Vikram pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Keerthi", Vikram started gruffly ,his voice laced with desire, their lips merely brushing, teasing one another, "We should go to sleep now if you don't want it to continue any further." Keerthi's face flamed at her husband's insinuation. But dammit,she wanted to be kissed. For the first time ever.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

My boyfriend gave me away to his arch-nemesis because he lost a bet. On the same night, I was driven to his arch-nemesis’ house. Before leaving, he expressed remorse, “Anya, just bear with it for a bit. I will come to pick you up in a month.” That night, the man pinned me to the bed and started unbuttoning my shirt. As he traced his cold fingertips against my collarbone, he said, deep and seductively, “So that’s the scumbag you fell for? Why don’t you be with me instead? I can give you everything you want.” I leaned forward and kissed him right away. “Sure.”

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

“F**k me to death if you must, you asshole,” I sobbed. I felt defeated as I lay beneath the Alpha King’s hardened body. He was pressed heavily against me. Tears stained my features and he stared around my face, curiously. He had paused for a long moment, breathless and trembling. Just moments ago, he was ripping my custom-made wedding gown off my thin body and shredding it to pieces. I trembled uncontrollably as he pressed me against his bed, kissing every mark of my body and biting me until I bled. His dark blue gaze had gone wild and at that moment, I truly feared for my life. I feared that the night of my wedding night was going to be the end of my life altogether. The memory of the day invaded my mind as I kept thinking to myself, “how did I end up here?” *** To save her little brother, Hannah was forced to take her stepsister Amy's place in the arranged marriage, marring the cruel Alpha King, Peter. Little did she know, there will be so many dangers await her. Alpha Peter, the most arrogant, cold and strongest man in werewolf Kingdom, he accept this marriage because he needs to find his mate, as it was foretold. Only his mate can save him from his frantic fury. He has no idea that soon he finds himself falling for this little omega girl.

It's considered public knowledge that the CEO of Nextronics, Spencer Ford, is totally and utterly smitten with his wife, Nikita Young. Case in point: the very first digital voice assistant that Nextronics launched was called Nikki. Nextronic's newest launch, a smartphone that would revolutionize the tech industry, was to be named the Niko Ultra. Spencer seemed born to be a perfect husband—loving, devoted, and affectionate towards her. That was until she caught him in bed with his assistant. Nikita snapped out of the haze and realized a startling truth—promises could be broken, no matter how sincere the person who made them appeared. "I want to terminate this pregnancy. I don't want to bring this child into the world." "Give me ten days, and I will leave him."

It's my seventh year of secretly dating Liam Ferguson, my brother's friend. We're about to have our marking ceremony soon. I happily prepare for it, wanting to surprise him. However, during a gathering with friends, I accidentally overhear something. "If you ask me, there's no denying Alpha Liam's good looks and charm. To think he managed to make the Silver Snow pack's Alpha's sister his stand-in lover and bed partner!" "What are you going to do with Maya now that Nina's back, Liam? Andrew won't let you off the hook if he finds out you've been fooling around with his sister…" The following day, Liam takes me to Nina White's welcome-back party. He's gentle, considerate, and affectionate with me. His love for me seems so deep that I wonder whether I'm imagining things. Then, Nina "accidentally" spills scalding soup on my arm and runs out in tears. I'm the injured one, but she feels wronged. However, Liam shoves me aside and runs after her in a panic. I return home with a burned arm and open the door to the basement—Liam has never allowed me in there. I see Nina's photos plastered on the walls. There are even photos of them doing the deed in various positions. He looks so wild. I call Andrew with a heart full of despair. "I've made up my mind about the marriage with the Alpha heir of the Storm Tribe. I'll do it!"

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.