Novel & Cerita Chihiro Crying

~ SORA HELL MORGATHOR ~ Since my appointment to the throne, my cousin on paper has fully embraced the role of archnemesis, dedicating every breath to my downfall. He is a walking tantrum in a tailored suit, still crying about a crown that was never going to fit his head anyway. My life wasn’t perfect, but ever since I was adopted into the Hell Morgathor family, staying alive has become a full-time hobby, mostly because every move I make is now at the mercy of men who treat human lives like disposable currency. It’s nice to know I’ve brought the city together; apparently, having me in charge is the only thing everyone can agree is a terrible idea. My cousin on paper views me as the ultimate gatekeeper, Largely thanks to the fact that I have the audacity to keep breathing while he wants my chair, treating my pulse like a personal insult to his resume. ☠️☠️☠️☠️ ~A-JUN HELL MORGATHOR ~ All I want is my family to stop being a shadow. A woman carries the family name, whereas my father is subjected to being the underboss. As if things aren’t bad enough, an adopted female child is coded to be the next Don, and she had the guts to accept the offer. I was fully prepared to end her life, but I was suddenly struck by lightning, or maybe it was just her impeccable skincare routine, and I decided to let it slide, distracted by her face and forgot why I was even holding a weapon. I'm currently temporarily blinded by her sheer audacity to be that gorgeous while I’m trying to work. But until when will I be distracted?

"What is your name?" He asked. "Nyx." "Nyx what?" "Nyx Evander." "Good." He hummed, "I am going to reject you." He said and I felt a stabbing pain in my chest. I wanted to beg him not to, to tell him that I will do anything for him not to reject me. "And you are going to accept my rejection and forget about me, we can never be together! I am an Alpha King, I do not need a mate like you." I cried more as his words rolled off his tongue, "Stop your crying, it is fucking irritating!" He said and I sobbed. "You are going to leave after the rejection and never set foot within my territory again, mutt!" He warned, "Is that clear?" I nodded at him and watched him do what I feared the most. "I, Lycus Dardanos." He began, "Alpha King of the werewolf community, the next in command after the wolf's council and the Alpha of Blackmoon pack reject you Nyx E…" He never got to finish his words as a blinding white light suddenly shone through the room followed with a harsh gush of wind that threw me back against the wall. ****** Lycus Dardanos, The Alpha King had always wanted a mate but she wasn't what he was expecting when he first saw her, he wasn't expecting her to be what he hated the most, a weak rogue omega with a child and also she was the abominable and cursed silver wolf. As far as he was concerned they were of the untrustworthy kind and he wasn't going to have anything to do with them, the only thing on his mind was rejection but the moon goddess had other plans and the power of the mate bond is quite irresistible.

Eighty-five raw, dripping, boundary-shattering stories. Eighty-five ways to get fucked senseless. This isn’t romance. This is pure, merciless sin—cocks stretching tight, dripping pussies, tongues licking where they were never meant to go, and strong hands pinning you down until you’re begging, shaking, and ruined. From forbidden priests breaking their vows to claim you on the altar, to ruthless stepfathers spreading you open on the kitchen counter while your mother sleeps upstairs. From powerful doctors “examining” you until you’re soaking their gloves, to billionaire best friends fucking you raw behind your husband’s back. You’ll be sold at a dark private auction, stripped and displayed like a prize. You’ll pay rent with your holes in the filthiest ways imaginable. Professors, gym instructors, landlords, and strangers in the shadows will take every inch of you—rough, deep, and without mercy. These virgins will have their bellies pumped full of cum. Fingers will rip through tight, wet walls until you’re screaming, crying, and begging for more. Public fucks, forbidden touches, gangbangs, and nights so dirty you’ll need to shower twice—only to touch yourself all over again. Get your towels. Get your toys. Get ready to be wrecked by every filthy fantasy you’ve ever had… and a hundred more you didn’t know you craved. If you can’t handle raw, dripping-hot, mind-corrupting sex—close the book now. If you want your pussy aching, your ass red, and your mind utterly ruined… welcome to Sinful Surrender.

I've gone to the church to pray for my son, Robert Scott. On the way home, my carriage is overturned because the horses suffer from a shock. When I wake up, I look at my family gathering around my bed. Then, I decide to pull a prank on them. "Sorry, but who are you?" I do my best to suppress the smile that threatens to appear on my face. I want to see how my family is going to comfort me now that I have "amnesia". Will Mom and my husband, Jeremy Scott, take my hands comfortingly? Or will Robert lunge at me while crying out to me? What I don't expect is to see my family breathing sighs of relief after their initial shock has faded away. Mom is the first one to speak up with a hint of relief coloring her tone. "Since you've already forgotten all about us, then it's fine. Maisie, you're actually the adopted daughter of the Liddell family. Amber is the actual heiress of the Liddell family." Jeremy points at me while telling Robert, "Robbie, you must address her as Aunt Maisie." Before I can recover from my shock, I see my own son, whom I'm willing to sacrifice my life to protect, running over to hug Amber Liddell, the fake heiress, happily. "Mom, I've spent the whole day playing outside! Oh, I miss you so much!" So, it turns out that my case of amnesia is exactly what this family wants. In that case, I might as well abandon this farce of a family.

I had been engaged to Atlas Payne, a powerful CEO, for five years. This was the 21st time he had canceled our wedding ceremony. The first time, his secretary, Jasmine Scott, sprained her ankle. He left me by the roadside and rushed to the hospital. The second time, Jasmine cried and made a scene on the eve of our wedding, so he left me alone on the red carpet. The Payne family was powerful, while I was merely the daughter of a housekeeper. Therefore, everyone advised me to just deal with his mood swings. Every time Atlas left me behind, he would solemnly apologize and promise me that the next wedding attempt would definitely go smoothly. I kept believing him. Even though I was not the family's legitimate mistress, I still handled all the family affairs for him. I waited and waited, but the wedding ceremony never came. All I received was news that Jasmine was pregnant. This time, I had no reason to convince myself to stay. "I will never let you leave my side. If you ever disappear, I’ll make sure to use my family's influence to find you." The sweet words he once said to me were now a cage that trapped me. On Christmas Day, I prepared to leave him for good. I started a fire at home. Even the most powerful family would not be able to find someone who was supposedly dead. Years later, I unexpectedly came across Atlas kneeling at my ‘grave’. He was always so stern, but now, he was crying and begging me to come home and see him again.

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

At my three-year anniversary dinner with Vincent Hartwell, his secretary deliberately poured red wine over my head. I finally reached my breaking point and slapped her in front of all the guests. That very night, the incident spread like wildfire through high society circles. When my mother saw the leaked bedroom photographs of the two of them, the shock triggered a heart attack. She collapsed and died on the spot. When I learned the news, I sank to the floor and cried all night. Meanwhile, Vincent stayed by his secretary's side, comforting her. When he came home, he brushed past my disheveled state without a glance, loosened his tie, and spoke in that careless tone of his. "I've already buried the story. Don't let it happen again. "I have a meeting tonight. Pull yourself together and get to the villa within thirty minutes. Madison needs you." As he walked toward the door, he added over his shoulder, "She's fragile right now because of the pregnancy. If you do anything to harm my only child, I won't forgive you." I listened without crying or arguing. However, after he left, I pulled the divorce agreement from my drawer that I had prepared weeks ago. Beneath it lay my own positive pregnancy test. 'Vincent, I'll leave to find my biological father in three days.' This time, I was really leaving. I would make sure my father paid for every grievance I had endured over the last few years.

..."Fucking take my cock like a good little slut." Jenna could only sob and cling to his shoulders as he fucked her into the mattress, too overwhelmed by sensation to do anything else. She could feel Alex behind her, suddenly, rubbing his own sticky cock between her ass cheeks, teasingly. "Please," she whimpered brokenly. "Need you both..." One midnight train ride turned Jenna into a dripping, hole-wrecked mess. A brutal stranger fucked her raw in the aisle until she squirted across the seats. A bathroom quickie left another man’s cum leaking down her thighs. Then the Syndicate came for her. Now she’s collared, caged, and passed between powerful men who stretch every hole past breaking. Electro-clamped nipples, inflating plugs, double-cock DP marathons, throat-fucked until she’s crying cum-bubbles, and public gangbangs while strangers watch and film. She was supposed to escape. Instead, she begs to be filled again… and again… and again. Begging unleashes hell; electro-clamps fry swollen tits to gushing orgasms; inflating plugs stretch pussy/ass to tearing screams; caged like a bitch as Master's paddle cracks welts bloody-red. MMF savagery explodes, where dual cocks grind through her thin walls in DP creampie marathons, throat-bulging face-fucks choke her on twin loads, and every hole is plugged/leaking/stuffed in endless breed-chains. Collaring brands her eternal Syndicate cum-pet, public gangbangs, zap-torture squirts, and piss-soaked submission. Raw, relentless, and hole-ruining ecstasy. Will Jenna escape the Syndicate's cock-collar... or beg to be their forever-drenched fucktoy?... Or get trapped back to David?

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]