Collar Drawings Novels & Stories

This isn’t a love story. It’s a dark, addictive descent into forbidden obsession that will leave you breathless, heartbroken, and begging for more. What kind of daughter desires her step father? Charlotte is a beautiful 20-year-old with dangerous cravings. While her mother Stacy chased stability by marrying the wealthy, commanding Sebastian, Charlotte has been quietly consumed by fantasies of her stepfather ruining her. One stormy night, drunk Sebastian sleepwalks into her room. Charlotte knows she should send him away. But she doesn’t. One reckless, forbidden night spirals into an obsession neither of them can outrun. But when Stacy uncovers their secret, the fallout will be devastating — divorce, scandal, and a betrayal that shatters everything. Torn between love and obsession. She must choose the collar that owns her, or the arms that might save her. She can only choose one.

"Dont- DON'T TOUCH ME!" His frantic voice rang out through the store. Why now? Why did his heat have to come NOW?! Rayan Neel is a mistake of nature, a male omega. Omegas make up less than 5% of the world's population, and only about 1% of them are born male. Omegas in general are looked down upon as the lowest social class, and have only recently, as far as political timelines go, been given rights as citizens. The collar he wears both labels him and keeps him safe, but it doesn't make life easier. He doesn't need any help. He's perfectly capable of supporting himself, in spite of what he is. Sure, there's not much room for luxuries, but it's an okay life. No time for romance. Well, maybe just a little...

Maturity Warning ⚠️ This story is a dark romance intended for mature audiences (18+). It contains explicit sexual content, predatory behavior, power imbalances, blackmail and taboo themes. Reader discretion is advised. **He's my Professor. He's my Step father. And he's the only man who devours me at night.** I am a science student who failed every course and was hated by my professor. But on one faithful morning my mum announced a heartbreaking information. She was going to marry the professor I lusted over. The one man I had imagined one day he would pin me down to his bed. Mr Chadwick is cold, brilliant, and sexy. He hated me for being dull and feminine but behind those eyes filled with fury, his darkest desires loomed around me. In public, Mr Chadwick is the perfect academic and the perfect step father. But behind closed doors of the study, he is a predator who had discovered my darkest secrets: a sketchbook filled with obsessive drawings of him. Now, the lessons have changed. Chadwick doesn't want me to study books; he wants me to study him. It was supposed to be a punishment. He curses me on the outside but claims me like a hungry lion every night. Under my mum's roof. It was supposed to break my spirit. But he found out, he lusted over the very thing he hated.

When I was three and a half, the system sent me back to my dad's high school days. The good news—the brooding villain destined to destroy the world was still just a blond guy. The bad news—there were way too many blond guys at that school, and I could not tell them apart. Hence, every time I saw one, I called him 'Dad'. By the time I got to the 101st, I was robbed. He grabbed me by the collar with a fierce look on his face, like he was about to hit me at any second. The long-dormant system suddenly spoke up, "Kiddo, the one walking out of the school right now is your dad!" I sniffled and shouted, "Hey, you'd better be careful! I'm telling you, my dad's almost an adult! Right, Dad? Elliot!" Elliot Smith froze for a second and pointed at himself. "Who, me?"

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

Every anniversary, Mark had some twisted surprise for me. Our tenth? He strutted into the ballroom holding hands with an escort wearing straight up lingerie. "Jenna, she's cold. Hand over your dress." Then, like that wasn't sick enough: "And the lingerie. She likes your vibe." I clutched my collar, trying to keep it together. He didn't care—just yanked it open. "Cut the act. Your dad sold you to me, remember? That slutty look you used to give me—I still see it." Everyone stared, waiting for me to break. So I did the one thing I could. "I want a divorce." Again. Mark just laughed and chucked a stack of photos on the table—me, covered in marks, curled in bed, a total mess. "You say that every year. And every year, you're back in my bed. Think your mom keeps that hospital spot if these get out?"

A warlord with fire in his veins. A captive princess with nothing left to lose. When the Dragon Warlord seizes her crumbling kingdom, Sera expects death—not a collar of gold and a vow of possession. Claimed as tribute, she is taken to the heart of the mountain, where fire breathes and ancient magic sleeps beneath the stone. Rhazien is ruthless, monstrous, and terrifyingly divine. But he is also bound by something older than war: the need to claim. To protect. To own. Sera refuses to break. But as power shifts and passion ignites, she learns that dragons don’t ask. They take. And this warlord doesn’t just want her obedience—he wants her heart. And if she gives it to him, she may never survive the fall. The Dragon Warlord’s Bride is a dark fantasy romance full of possession, power struggles, and slow-burn heat. Perfect for fans of monster lovers, mating bonds, and morally unhinged kings who’d burn the world for their queen.

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

I signed for my sister's dinner. Not for love. Not for glory. Just so she wouldn't go to bed hungry again. Now I'm carrying his heir — and Clause 7 says I'll never see this baby's face. Elara is an omega with nothing left. So when Alpha Kael Blackwood — cold, haunted, called the Ice Alpha — offers her a contract, she doesn't hesitate. One year. One heir. $200,000. Live in his house. Carry his child. Leave when it's over. What the fine print hides: Clause 7. If the baby is a male heir — a True Alpha — Elara's parental rights end at birth. No visits. No goodbyes. Just a check and a locked door. She discovers this at fourteen weeks. After the morning sickness. After the first kick. After she's already named her daughter. Kael Blackwood is not a good man. He buried his entire pack at nineteen. He hasn't smiled since. But Elara sees the cracks. The hallway light he leaves on because she's afraid of the dark. Her sister's crayon drawings taped to his fridge. The way his hand hovers over her stomach — never touching — when he thinks she's asleep. He's not supposed to care. She's not supposed to want him to. When an old enemy discovers Elara's pregnancy carries the prophesied heir, the contract becomes a death warrant. Kael must choose: Follow pack law and lose her forever. Or burn his legacy down — and keep her. The Ice Alpha's Contract is a complete standalone dark werewolf romance. No cheating. No non-con. Pregnancy from Chapter One. Guaranteed HEA. ---

I died on my wedding day. My fiancé's hand on my back, my best friend's laugh in my ears, and then nothing. The Moon Goddess gave me one more chance. Same dress. Same date. Same monster waiting at the altar — and this time, I know exactly what he's planning to do to my family the moment I say "I do." So I say "I don't" instead. Before the chaos even settles, the doors explode open. Black armor. Silence falling over the hundreds of guests at once. And a man every Alpha in the room is terrified of, walking straight toward me like he's been waiting his whole life to collect something that was promised to him before I was even born. I thought I was choosing my own fate for the first time. I just traded one collar for another — except this one calls me his Luna, and he's not planning on ever letting go.