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The Lycan Prince's Fragile Mate

The Lycan Prince's Fragile Mate

“Ah!” I moan, tilting my head to the side as his lips find the sweet spot on my neck. My hands move to his chest, and I undo his buttons with haste while his lips devour mine like it’s their favorite meal, our tongues wrestling for control. I chuck the shirt aside but gasp in surprise when he suddenly pushes me against the wall before resuming his sweet torture on my neck. “You smell so good,” he growls against my ear, his voice sounding inhumane and I don’t know how he did that, but it covers my body in goosebumps. I shiver, moaning loudly while tilting my head to the side to grant him more access and when I look into his eyes, I can almost swear I saw the white disappear, causing me to blink rapidly, my brain turning to mush. "Mm!" I grip his pants, my breathing uneven as his left hand slowly travels past my stomach and slips between my thighs before rubbing circles on top of my last piece of clothing. I become a moaning, trembling, horny mess, desperate for a release, as I sink my nails into his thighs, poking holes in his pants before my body convulses and I come undone. ..... Evaki becomes the first human to be mated to a royal and a Lycan. Despite her newfound status, she faces persistent discrimination and prejudice from those who see her as weak and a disgrace to the royal family. The newly crowned queen is determined to prove herself and win their approval. But what happens when she's dealt yet another blow and her mate is forced to take another, adding to Evaki's struggles as she fights to gain acceptance and prove her worth in a society that sees her as inferior?
106.3K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 164 Times as breathing styles
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Thee Phoenix
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this journey with me. I am truly grateful for your readership. I would be immensely grateful if you could take a few minutes to leave a review to help potential readers discover the book and provide valuable feedback for future readers.
Milagros Phoenix
What a journey! As usual you did not let me down. That's why I will follow you everywhere. You truly are an amazing author. Thank you for another amazing story. I'm looking forward to your next book. Well done!
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Wanting Professor Darwin

Wanting Professor Darwin

"So, what's it going to be, Professor Darwin?" he asked, breathing softly against my ears. "Are you going to punish me or what?" he teased me, his fingers stroking my folds gently. "Fuck you, Jeremy," the cuss word came out thick with moans. "Oh, in a minute," he smirked against my neck, slipping a finger into me and I tossed my head backwards, releasing a wanton sound. Stubborn bastard. •••• Lucia Darwin, in one word, would be a coward but she didn't care. When she saw the perfect opportunity to bolt from her demons and turn the lock on them, she didn't hesitate. Landing the perfect job at Crawford University as a professor and her best friend's wedding seemed like the perfect excuse to flee from Austria. Little did she know that she would have even bigger fish to fry in New York. She had always been a sucker for weddings, but there was an exception. The gorgeous singer who caught her fancy. Maybe the attraction wasn't one-sided because things grew heated after she engaged him in a conversation, and they found themselves buried in each other before the end of the night, sharing a passionate night. What happens at Bethany's wedding, stays at Bethany's wedding, but in Lucia's case, it clung to the hem of her dress like a stubborn seam when she made a shocking discovery that the guy she hooked up with that night happened to be one of her students, Jeremy Hale, Crawford's biggest snub and the hottest boy on campus. A school that frowned upon romantic relationships between teachers and students, a stubborn boy who would do anything to have what he wanted, and a cold-hearted professor whose niche is running away from her problems. The question is, how messy could this get?
1.2K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 47 Times as breathing styles
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A Secret Affair With My Best Friend's Uncle

A Secret Affair With My Best Friend's Uncle

‘An hunter, and his prey. The forbidden fruit tastes the best.’ “Did you want this?” His deep baritone asked, as he straddled her hips on his thigh, with the eyes locked oozing with tame desires that both had been hiding. “I–I–this is wrong.” Cassandra breathed, but her breathing stiffened when she felt the man's hand run through her thigh into her dress, and it was like her body was on fire. “No one asked you what's right, kitten, I asked, if you want this?” He breathed, his hot breath fanning her chest, and her n*pples stood erected. She couldn't think straight, so she decided to forget about her stance, and let herself loose. She wanted the man badly, she was done fighting. “Yes,” she mumbled. “Answer better!” The man teased, as he pinched her butt. “Yes, I want it daddy!” Cassandra breathed, and immediately the words left her mouth, the man crashed his lips on hers. *********************** Cassandra swore she would never cross the line. But the line blurred the moment her best friend’s uncle walked into her life..older, forbidden, and devastatingly magnetic. She told herself it was just lust. A dangerous spark she could smother with distance. But fate had other plans. Work pushed them together, and every stolen glance, every accidental touch, only pulled her deeper into a desire she couldn’t control. Dante Blackwell was no stranger to women. A notorious playboy, he had conquered them all. But Cassandra was different, wild, untamed, a temptation that clawed at his control. She wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to be his weakness. But he found her irresistible. Will they resist temptation, or let passion consume them both no matter the cost?
108.1K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 315 Times as breathing styles
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Dark Chemistry

Dark Chemistry

"Everything of you is a non-existing dangerous drug, Natalia. And I'm addicted to it." He whispered in my ear. He brushed his nose on my neck and then my hair like he was smelling my body and my hair. I stopped breathing and started wiggling. "H-how do you know my name? W-Why am I here?" My voice came out as a mere whisper. "I couldn't stop thinking about you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. Fuck, you looked so fucking sexy in that outfit." He said in a husky tone. His hands fell on my waist and grabbed it so tightly that I could tell it would leave a mark. <3 If you start loving someone from deep down your heart, you will stop caring about the hurts, miseries, anguishes and traumas that he/she once caused in your life. You'll even be ready to sacrifice your own life for him/her. Love can change your miseries and traumas into peace and happiness, love can change an emotionless monster into a loverboy. If you don't want to love or don't want to be loved then love won't wait for your permission. You won't even realize 'where, when and how' you fell in love. Love can destroy you within a blink, love can be your biggest trauma and love can even kill you with no mercy. Natalia Rauf, a simple Bengali girl, lived in a town like many middle class decent families of Bangladesh. She had a beautiful and peaceful life with her family and friends. But her peace and happiness turned into miseries and traumas when the most wanted ruthless psycho killer from Italy came in her life. Stay with the adrenaline pumping, adventurous and romantic journey of a high school girl and a criminal till the end.
1016.6K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 662 Times as breathing styles
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Jaz
After completing this book, it was so enjoyable. There were actions, romance actions, and romance trials. I have to say this is one of the best books to read. I am waiting for the writer to start a new book.
Toxic Bee
Hi! This book is very interesting. It includes adventures, thrilling moments, passion, trust, betrayal, hatred and unconditional love. If you're a dark romance fan, then this book is just for you. The starting may be slow but in every chapter you'll find a twist. Read ahead and enjoy the book.
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They Laughed Hard While I Was Dying

They Laughed Hard While I Was Dying

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.
556 viewsCompletedAdded to Library 11 Times as breathing styles
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Addicted To You

Addicted To You

"Do you miss me Bella...mia" She could recognize that voice even in her sleep. She stood frozen looking at him with wide eyes. "W..what.." she tried speaking but immediately closed her mouth breathing hard. She glared at him HARD while a handsome smirk appeared on his face. "What the hell are you doing in my house?!" she said,his eyes moving across her body especially on her exposed legs. He suddenly stood on his feet and she moved back, his presence affecting her. "What happened to your elbow" he asked. That was actually the first thing he noticed when she stepped out of the bathroom with a red towel wrapped around her tiny frame. "Why should I tell you that. I owe you no explanation" She said feeling uncomfortable under his scrutinized gaze. He took three long strides towards her before pinning her to the wall, his hot breath fanning her neck. Lexi could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes met his ocean blue eyes. She hates to deny it but he grew much more handsome than before. A slow smirk appeared on his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Lexi shook, trying to push him off but he stood gallantly like a statue, his height towering above her. " Let me ..go.. now" her voice hoarse. " I hate repeating myself Lexi. You might wanna start talking" Lexi Thompson, a retired cop, is trapped in a toxic game of cat and mouse with Antonio Saint Claire, a ruthless mafia kingpin. Lexi Thompson thought she'd escaped Antonio Saint Claire's toxic grasp but his obsession runs deep. Now she must play by his rules to preserve her sanity. Will she find a way to break free, or will their twisted love consume them both ?.
102.8K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 104 Times as breathing styles
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kikelomomustapha26
I didn’t like the male lead at first, but wow, this story pulled me in fast. It’s addictive, just like the title. Lexi is such a fiery, defiant queen. I usually avoid ongoing books, but I had to keep reading this one.
Bashirat Zakari
Get ready to be hooked! This ongoing story is a wild ride so far. The characters are great and the plot twists are surprising. I love how the author explores crime vs justice, with dark secrets that will keep you guessing. Can't wait to see what happens next.
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The Bully's Regret

The Bully's Regret

I see her in his arms. Adrian’s hand is at her waist, and she’s looking up at him like he hasn’t spent years breathing the same air as her without ever earning that look. My fingers curl around my glass. Then he says something. I don’t hear it. I don’t need to. Because Wren… giggles. My world tilts. I’ve heard her laugh before—sharp, defiant. But this was different. And it was not for me. Rage claws up my throat, aimed straight at Adrian. I shouldn’t care. Except I do. I fucking do. Then Wren stumbles. Adrian catches her, pulls her back—and their lips collide. Just a peck. Clearly accidental. But it detonates inside me. Something snaps. The glass slips from my hand, shattering, and all I see is red. My body moves before my mind can catch up. Because suddenly, it all crashes into place. Her silence. The loss. It felt like I’d lost something I didn’t even know I was holding onto. And I was the one who did it. My pranks. My cruelty. I was the reason her scholarship got revoked! God! A bitter taste floods my mouth. She cut me off because she had every right to. Because I deserved it. But that doesn’t mean I can let her go. It doesn’t mean I will. If it takes groveling, I’ll grovel. If it takes begging, I’ll beg. Hell, if it takes dropping to my knees in front of this entire fucking college and tearing my pride apart piece by piece just to earn a fraction of her forgiveness. Because she matters. I don’t care about anything except her slipping out of my reach. And I’m ready to burn everything down for her.
328 viewsOngoingAdded to Library 9 Times as breathing styles
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Bewitching the Alpha

Bewitching the Alpha

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.
81.6K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 59 Times as breathing styles
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Take Your Regrets to the Grave

Take Your Regrets to the Grave

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus?” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.
6.6K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 210 Times as breathing styles
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Hot For My New Stepbrother

Hot For My New Stepbrother

I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage. She paid my tuition with his father’s money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I’ll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose. Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me. So I moved into the Hunters’ mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell. Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more. I thought graduation meant freedom from him. I was wrong. Now he’s my stepbrother. He hates that I’m here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me. But hate isn’t clean anymore. It’s tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me, the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I’m shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more. He calls me Little Lamb, I call him every name I can think of under my breath. How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?
10976 viewsOngoingAdded to Library 22 Times as breathing styles
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