Novel & Cerita Crimson Gown

" What about her?" His inquire came out softly and lazy. Ayla's eyes suddenly contracted fiercely and rolled to her brain! She thought she might collapse any moment from now! No! She can't be known! Her identity can't be revealed! The senior nun must not reveal my identity! " Errr......that's Ayla, the wolfslayer's daughter." Damn! The atmosphere dropped to a freezing point and Alpha Darius felt his lips twitched for a second. He looked back at the senior nun, snapping his brows coldly and back at Ayla, whose legs was already trembling violently. " You mean Morgan and Arnold's daughter?" He hissed, finding it hard to believe. " Yes." The senior nun replied. " We found her not too long when her father was set ablaze." Darius unexpectedly chuckled dryly, and his eyes lowered. " The slayer's daughter hun?" He approached Ayla even closer, gazing at her keenly like she was his prey and he lifted her chin, allowing her nervous dim eyes to met his. " Then, I guess my bride is in front of me." ****** A war was coming and it is predicted there might be no survivors. With this, Darius, a heartless, dangerous and crazy Alpha king of the Crimson moon, who was feared by all, set to get a bride who would give him an heir. Their pack was cursed, making it impossible. This led them to a downtown church, where ladies are sold like slaves and nuns, to seek bride. However, he encountered the least person he thought! The daughter of the wolves slayer's? This was going to be fun! But would something change between Ayla's hatred for the wolves and Darius vengeance on Ayla? What would fate write for them?

Sloan Vale isn’t just a billionaire—he’s a king in a world built on whispered names, silk-bound power, and decadent sin. By day, he’s untouchable. Polished. Controlled. But by night, he rules The Crimson Order, a secret society where the elite indulge their darkest desires and make deals sealed with blood and pleasure. He’s never had a reason to break his own rules. Until her. Ivy Sinclair is a broke, brilliant art student just trying to survive. When she delivers a painting to an exclusive event, she stumbles into a hidden world she was never meant to see. Sloan’s world. The moment he lays eyes on her, he knows she doesn’t belong. Too innocent. Too pure. Too tempting. She should have run. He should have let her. But instead, he offers her a choice: walk away and forget what she saw… or surrender to him and learn just how deep the rabbit hole goes. Ivy agrees but she’s not as innocent as she seems. As Sloan draws her deeper into his dangerous orbit, he finds himself addicted to her softness, her fire, her secrets. She awakens something in him that’s been dormant far too long. Obsession. Protection. Lust. But Ivy didn’t stumble into his world by accident. She’s running from something darker. Something deadly. And when her past collides with his empire, both of them will have to decide what’s worth more: power or passion. Vengeance or love. In a world where everything comes with a price… will she be his salvation, or his ultimate ruin?

My blood-mate, Lord Lucien, found out. I gave the “Moonlight Blood” treaty, the one I bled to secure with the werewolf packs, to his new pet, Celeste. He thought it was the result of his decade of cold neglect. A sign I had finally shattered. So, he offered to take me to the centennial Crimson Feast in Venice. But when Celeste heard, she flew into a jealous rage and threatened to leave his clan. Lucien, who catered to her every whim, panicked. He spent three days and nights soothing her ego, even giving her his prized Elder Blood. Then he left me behind again, using a border skirmish with our rivals as an excuse. He gave her my invitation—the only one. Later, he explained himself, lounging on his sarcophagus with a careless air. "Love is a luxury we can't always afford, Octavia. The clan's survival is everything. I am their Lord. I have responsibilities." "You are my blood-mate, Octavia," he said. "You'll support me. Won't you?" A thrall presented a magic mirror. In it, Celeste pressed her pale cheek against Lucien’s shoulder. They embraced under the moonlight, their lips meeting as they exchanged blood. I said nothing. I just nodded. Lucien thought I had finally learned my place. A satisfied smirk curled his lips as he promised to buy my silence with a trinket from his private collection when he returned. But he didn't know. I had already cut ties with the clan. And he had already signed the dissolution papers with his own blood. There was no "us" anymore.

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

As I was about to leave The Crimson Curtain, my brother Corvus's elite vampire club, a woman who claimed to be the manager stopped me. "Ma'am, you just helped yourself to a priceless vial of Elder's Blood. You have to pay." I looked at the unfamiliar face, sensing the weak blood of a lesser vampire. She must be a fledgling, I thought, new to the club and unaware of who I was. "Your boss approved it," I said flatly. "Take it up with him." But the woman just sneered at me. "Plenty of women try to get close to our boss. If every one of you took what you wanted, how would we stay in business?" She shoved a copy of the club rules at me. Anyone who takes Elder's Blood without permission pays with three times the amount in heart's blood. Or they don't leave. Vampire guards started to close in, some even drawing silver blades, ready to take me down. I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. I couldn't believe Corvus's club had such an insane rule. "I am the Lord of House Volkov. Corvus's own sister. If he needs compensation, he can come to me himself." But her mockery only sharpened. "You look like some low-born stray. Claiming ties to a noble house? Pathetic. Hand over the heart's blood. Now." My patience snapped. I sent a message to the family elders through our bloodline. "Tell Corvus to either make this woman disappear forever, or I'm taking back ownership of this club. All of it."

Just one week before my marking ceremony with Lucien, I discovered his heart already belonged to someone else. His secretary, Anika, walked out of his office with a smirk that was a little too knowing. Her blouse was askew, her usually neat hair a tangled mess, and only the faintest trace of her crimson lipstick remained. My heart seized in my chest, and my fingers went cold on the doorknob. Two years ago, she had been a timid girl fresh from the countryside. All that pretense of innocence had vanished, replaced by a brazen ambition written across her face. Her relentless eagerness around Lucien had always grated on my nerves, and I had asked him more than once. "Lucien, can't you replace her?" His smile would always fade. "Anika saved my life," he'd say. "I can't be so heartless." Now, that single triumphant smirk was all it took for me to understand. What others once envied in me had already been trampled beneath her heels. My phone vibrated. It was a new proposal from the event planner. [The marking ceremony plan is nearly perfect. Can we finalize it?] I refused to be consumed by sorrow. I wiped a tear from my cheek and made one last adjustment to the document.——Replaced the bride's name withAnika I didn't want a false love, or a fake Alpha Lucien. Let them have the marking ceremony. Let Anika stand at his side as his Luna, his chosen mate. In seven days, I would be gone with my pup.

BOOK 1 OF THE FATED LUNA SERIES Lennox Haney was born for greatness, but all of that was taken away from her the day her father mysteriously died. After that she became nothing more than a slave to her stepmother and stepsister. Growing fed up with their daily torture she decides to escape so that she can one day come back and reclaim all that was once meant to be hers. Six years later she returns stronger than she was as a child and determined to take back everything that belonged to her while destroying the two women who took it all from her in the first place. However all her plans are turned upside down when she meets the dangerous and handsome alpha of Crimson Tides. "He isn’t good enough for you." He whispered, sending fire racing through my very veins. "And he won't be able to help you achieve what you're trying to achieve." "And you can?" I demanded, pulling away. "Sure," he responded easily. "Under one condition." "Condition?" I repeated, frowning. "That's right, sweetheart." Remaining silent, I considered what Silas was saying. I wasn't sure if I should even allow him to go any further, but it was a little unnerving that he seemed to know what I came here to do. Maybe I could hear him out. "I'm listening." I said slowly, bracing myself. "What's that condition?" "It's pretty simple." He beamed, causing my heart to constrict painfully. "All you have to do is pretend to be my fiance. What do you say?"

Slippery Cravings In the shadows of glittering cities and private sanctuaries of sin, desire doesn’t whisper — it devours. Slippery Cravings is a scorching collection of ultra-intense erotic tales where powerful, dominant men take complete control and willing women surrender everything in raw, unapologetic pleasure. From a seductive stranger in Montreal who edges a beautiful tourist against rain-streaked glass until she’s begging and shaking… to a forbidden onsen in Hakone where a mysterious Japanese master uses crimson Shibari rope to bind and torment an expat until she squirts violently across the steaming deck… to a rain-lashed Chicago penthouse where a ruthless billionaire keeps a bartender helplessly bound while he wrings multiple shattering orgasms from her helpless body… to a scorching Vegas pool villa where a billionaire developer ties a dazzling dancer to the railing and pushes her beyond every limit under the neon desert sky. Each story is drenched in exquisite sensory detail — the cool kiss of glass against fevered skin, the rough bite of rope, the thick scent of arousal mingling with steam, rain, and night jasmine. Extended, merciless edging sessions build unbearable tension until explosive, vision-blanking climaxes rip through bound, trembling bodies in powerful, gushing waves. Raw dirty talk, total power exchange, Shibari bondage, and intense post-orgasm dominance push every boundary. These women don’t just submit — they break beautifully, sobbing, thanking, and begging for more as they are claimed, used, and ruined in the most delicious ways. No limits. No fade-to-black. Only wet, relentless lust, exquisite torment, and shattering release. For readers who crave dark, immersive erotica that leaves you breathless, soaked, and aching — Slippery Cravings is your new addiction.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

I was ten when my Omega mother mated the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. My stepbrother, Draven, never let me forget how I’d diluted their pure blood. With his silent blessing, the entire pack became a weapon to carry out his hate. During a full moon hunt, he gave the nod. That's all it took. His followers "accidentally" pushed me in front of a raging stag. I felt its antlers rip my shoulder open. He looked down at me, his golden eyes dripping with scorn. “Don’t think you’re one of us just because your mother latched onto my father. Weaklings get culled. And I’ll be the one to kick you off my land.” At his command, they'd ruin my offerings to the Moon Goddess. They shredded my coming-of-age gown with silver blades. Through it all, my mother would only look at me with shame. My stepfather, the great Alpha, just saw me as a troublesome brat. I made myself small, desperate for a scrap of kindness. But it only made me the pack outcast. Hated and completely alone. Until Draven’s best friend, Liam—the Alpha heir to the Rage River Pack—showed interest in me at the werewolf academy. For the first time ever, Draven left me alone. I thought Liam was my only light in the darkness. On my birthday, I gave myself to him completely. The next day, I overheard him talking to Draven. Draven’s voice was low, laced with venom. “Did you get the video? Of the half-blood losing control mid-fuck?” Liam chuckled. “Of course. Gotta admit, she feels amazing. So soft… a real temptation. Almost got me hooked. But just in bed. The thought of her dirty blood…If it wasn’t to help you get even, I would’ve never touched a weak-blooded Omega like her.” I clamped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. My only hope was a lie. But they didn't know. I’d already applied to the Valeriana Werewolf Institute. And I wasn’t coming back.