Command Sentence

I should be dead, my fiance proved that to me after he stabbed me on our engagement day, pregnant, I bled and almost lost consciousness but fate gave me another chance in the arms of four gorgeous hockey brothers.. "On all fours, Reese," they command sharply, I drop to the ground and spread my legs wide open for their eyes to feed, my folds already wet and ready for them. Knox, Finn, Nolan, and Cole— the four hockey brothers—surround me in the locker room. Knox is the captain. He grabs my hips and slides his thick cock deep into my pussy. It stretches me wide and hits a deep spot in and I moan loud. Finn is the enforcer. He rubs lube on his big knot and pushes it into my ass as It pops in and fills me up tight. I gasp as he starts thrusting hard. Nolan is the playmaker. He kneels in front of me and shoves his long cock into my mouth. I suck it deep, tasting his pre-cum as he fucks my throat fast. Cole is the goalie. He lies under me and licks my clit with his hot tongue. He sucks it hard while his fingers rub my wet folds. They fuck me all at once. Knox pounds my pussy. Finn rams my ass. Nolan fills my mouth with cum. Cole makes me squirt on his face. Their knots all swell inside me. Hot cum floods my pussy and ass. I cum so hard I convulse and scream. Now I am their Luna. They hunt me every night and fuck me raw. In the locker room, on the ice rinks, anywhere. They knot me, fill me with their hot cum, and share me forever. Warning: Heavy on mature contents

"Do you really think someone like you is worthy of love?" he whispered in Eleanor's ear, making her body shudder in fear. "I... I don't know," she stuttered, her voice trembling, eyes fixed on the ground to avoid his piercing gaze. "I would never love a weak wolf like you, an aberration," he spat with disdain, his words filled with anger. "You shame our kind, Eleanor!" She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his intense gaze. "Do you hate me for this?" she asked, her voice faltering. "Hate?" He tilted his head, a cruel smile forming on his lower lip. "Hate is too soft a word. I feel repulsion towards you, disgust at being tied to such an insignificant being." Eleanor fought back tears as she heard his next words. "I, Asher Bennett, future Alpha of the Bloody Moon Pack, reject Eleanor Parker as my mate!" he growled angrily, turning away with contempt. "Never dare to say you're my mate again, You have a choice, Eleanor. You can bow down and accept your miserable fate... or you can fight, like the fool you are, thinking you have any chance." "A miserable fate for a wretched girl, what more could Eleanor Parker expect? After being brutally rejected by her mate and betrayed by her stepsister, sold like an animal by those who wished her dead, she rises from the ashes beside the great and supreme Alpha King Lynca, the cruelest of all werewolves capable of killing anyone who dares to disobey him. "I thought I signed my death sentence with the bloodthirsty Alpha King, responsible for hundreds of deaths. Yet, he became my rebirth, making me feel alive. Love drew me toward the abyss between us, where I could easily lose myself." Eleanor sighed, meeting his mesmerizing arctic blue eyes.

Adelaide should have died on Selection Night. Instead, the Devil carried her across the veil—bleeding, furious, and burning with magic she shouldn’t possess. They're bonded, like it or not. Her power destabilises his realm. Their desire threatens to consume them both. As Hell twists and reshapes itself around her presence, one truth becomes impossible to ignore: Adelaide isn’t just his chosen. She’s the spark that could remake the underworld… or rule it. If she survives him long enough to claim the crown. ****Excerpt**** Adelaide hung suspended in the Devil’s ropes—breathless, trembling, every inch of her alive with flame. He circled her like a predator savouring the final moment before the kill. But he wasn’t hunting her. He was devouring the sight. “Look at you,” Apollo murmured, touching a glowing fingertip to the curve of her hip. Her body jolted, heat spiralling through her so sharply her vision blurred. “My Little Flame… you burn so beautifully.” The ropes tightened at his silent command, lifting her chest, arching her spine. Her breath broke. Magic crackled between them, alive and ravenous. He dragged a slow trail of fire up her ribs. She shuddered. “Tell me you feel it,” he whispered against her ear. She hated how fast the answer came. “Yes.” His grip closed around her throat—not harsh, but claiming—and her pulse leapt into his palm as if reaching for him. “You deny me with your mouth,” he said, “but your body kneels.” Heat built—pressure, light, something too big for her ribs. “Apollo—please—” “Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Give in.” She did. Her flame erupted in a blinding burst, racing along the ropes, lighting the chamber in gold. Apollo inhaled sharply, awe and hunger twisting his features. “Good girl,” he breathed, ruined by the sight. “Burn for me.”

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

“You fucking bitch, I told you to stay here, and I will think about what I can do for you to not assassinate you, but you're just being a bitch” He yelled and turn my back like always I did whenever I was punished by a stick. "Bitch” He yelled throwing stick after stick, I felt my body turn numb getting to continue beating. “This time I won't let it go easily” He yelled, tearing my cloth. My body jerked back, his cold hand roamed my back. “I teach you today what happens when you just disobey my single command,” He said, turning me, removing a thin cloth from my body. "No, Liam" I screamed. “Why, It was always meant to be mine. Right?” His face had an evil smirk on. “Please no, Liam. Not like that…” I whispered, hugging myself with my hand hiding my naked self from his burning eyes. “No Amber… This will only happen like this, You fucking bitch tried to deceive me” He said, taking a fistful of my hair with enough grip to make me cry. “I won't do that again, Promise,” I said showing him my pinky finger like always we seal our promise. “Amber…” He sighed, like controlling himself. “Promise…” He said, taking my pinky finger with his finger. “This time promise will be sealed with my way baby” He smirked, bending my pinky finger. His eyes were like some beast that just want to hurt someone so badly. Author Note : This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Update on weekends

All her life Gia had known she would be married off to the oldest heir of the Armani family but when he suddenly dies weeks before the wedding, she is handed over to his youngest brother, Vito Armani. Vito Armani is the next head of the Italian Mafia after his brother dies. He's cold, unfeeling and completely emotionless. When Gia comes into his life he can't resist her. She's delicate and innocent and he wants to ruin her and taint every inch of her. However there are obstacles in their ways; the truth about Gia threatens to break their relationship. Gia's arrangement to marry into the Armani family was calculated by Giovanni, Vito's father. He wants to use her to hurt her family and to destroy them for a crime her father committed against the Armanis, but Vito wants to protect her and shield her from everything. Vito is Gia's sexual awakening, pleasuring her in ways she didn't know existed. She is a virgin, and her innocence and purity is what draws Vito to her. Beyond her body and the intense pleasure she gives him, he falls in love with the shy little girl inside. Massimo Armani, Vito's older brother falls in love with Gia as well, finding her at her weakest moments and giving her the care she desperately needs. When Vito's mistress finds out she's pregnant with the first grandson of the Armani Clan, everything comes crumbling down. Gia finds comfort and consolidation in Massimo's arms again. Will she give up on Vito, or stand by him like he stood by her? . . . Vito's eyes rover all over my body. "Strip." His voice was a command, dominant, rough and it made my panties dampen a little more when I thought I couldn't possibly get wetter.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

J'avais oublié de ramener la maîtresse de mon compagnon, la laissant seule dans la nature pendant trois heures. Fou de rage, il m'a jetée dans un vieux puits abandonné, en pleine campagne. « Toi aussi, tu dois goûter à la souffrance qu'a endurée Ria. » Le puits, profond et étroit, m'obligeait à me recroqueviller sous ma forme de louve. L'air me manquait. Je lui ai demandé pardon, j'ai supplié qu'il me sorte de là — mais tout ce que j'ai obtenu, ce sont ses reproches indifférents. « Repens-toi comme il faut. Il faut que tu comprennes, une bonne fois pour toutes, les responsabilités d'une Luna. » Il a ordonné qu'on scelle l'ouverture du puits avec une lourde pierre. J'ai hurlé, désespérée. Encore et encore, j'ai essayé de grimper, mais chaque fois je retombais. La paroi du puits s'est couverte de traces de mes griffes, témoins de ma lutte acharnée. Jusqu'à ce que ma gorge, brûlante de soif, ne puisse plus émettre le moindre son. Deux semaines plus tard, en découvrant le cadeau d'anniversaire que j'avais commandé pour lui, son cœur a flanché. Pris d'un élan de remords, il a décidé d'enlever ma punition. Mais il ne savait pas qu'au fond du puits, mon cadavre, déjà dévoré par les vers et les serpents, n'avait plus rien d'humain.

“Someone will hear,” I whispered, the words breaking into a tremor. His family and the entire Castillo group were gathered just down the hall. Smack. My gasp tangled in my throat. “No, they won’t.” His palm landed again, sharp and claiming. Smack. “Do you want to know why?” All I could manage was a desperate, breathless sound. “Because you’ll stay quiet.” His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Won’t you, Abigail?” He rubbed the spot where he’d struck, the heat of his touch spreading like fire under my skin. Pins and needles rushed through me, making my breath hitch. I bit down hard on my lip, fighting the sound clawing its way up my throat. “Good girl.” His praise slid over me like sin, a command and a reward all at once. ***** Abigail swore off love the night she caught her boyfriend tangled up with the neighbor’s daughter. Relationships were nothing but heartbreak—until he came along. One touch from her new employer’s grandson, Christian Castillo, awakens a hunger she thought she’d buried forever. She knows it’s forbidden. She knows it can’t last. But desire has a way of burning through reason, and with Christian, surrender feels inevitable. Then her world shatters. Her employer is murdered, and the blame lands squarely on her shoulders. With prison looming and her only lifeline being a man who refuses to forgive her, Abigail is trapped between ruin and a marriage she never chose. But she won’t go down quietly. Someone is pulling the strings, and she’s determined to expose the truth—even if it costs her freedom, her heart, and the man she can’t stop craving. A story of love, betrayal, and the courage to fight for forgiveness—and for the truth.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"