Cristiano Ronaldo Teeth Novels & Stories

“You think you hate me now?” I said, brushing the blood from her mouth with my thumb. “Wait until you start craving me in the dark.” Kyra Ferguson. Daughter of the Alpha who stole everything from me. The female whose blood sings to mine. My prisoner. My mate. My Enemy. She was supposed to suffer then die. I brought her here to ruin her, strip her of pride, dignity, and control. And yet, every time she bares her teeth, I want to taste her defiance. Every time she resists, my body aches to conquer her. She’s fire wrapped in thorns, untamed even in chains. And I hate her for how badly I want her.

Legend tells of the hidden wolf-people who live among the forests. They have mighty claws, large teeth and become human with the moon. But, to Lucia Perez, the wolf-people are a myth her grandmother told her during her childhood to scare her into going to bed. When Lucia discovers her best friend, Cody Colfax turns into one when the moon is full; things get complicated. When Cody mysteriously goes missing, and Lucia gets blamed for his murder, many unfortunate events have her fearing for her life. A mysterious ghost haunts the citizens of St. Maria and creates a rift between the human world and the spirit one. When the two worlds are unbalanced, Lucia finds herself going on an imposs

Five years ago, I was the rising star of the nation’s top chemistry research lab, but on the eve of publishing the results of my study, my husband’s crush, Grace, killed me. She made several people violate me and cut my face up. Then, she injected sulfuric acid into my stomach, crushed my teeth and bones, and discarded my body without anyone’s knowledge. At that time, I was three months pregnant. But she told everyone that I stole the project’s research results and fled to another country. Jim, my husband, personally wrote a report to the government to label me as a globally wanted criminal. Five years later, a livestreamer who did nighttime explorations found my dried-up corpse

“Congratulations on your wedding! Although we must have missed our invite in the mail. We’d like to catch up with…” There’s no reason to keep reading the mail beyond that point. It’s a variation of the same kinds of mails I’ve been receiving since the wedding three weeks ago. I pause at the door to his study, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing his signature scotch to his lips. I can’t take this anymore. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man li

His iron grip fastened around her waist with every second she tried to push him off. "Let go of me," she gritted. "Why should I let go?" He asked devilishly. Nibbling her earlobe "Have you forgotten you're my mate." "It's about time everyone knew you're mine." He teased with his now exposed teeth gently nibbling her skin. "Mine." She heard him growled out before his sharp canines bit into the crook of her neck... In no time she felt a strange heat dripping down her neck, it was blood gushing out from his bite. "Oh, My God! I can't believe Edward just marked me." She pondered.

Once childhood friends, now reluctant strangers—Lady Clara Valdemont and General Darrell Storm are bound by an arranged marriage meant to unite two feuding houses. Once allies, the Storms and Valdemonts were torn apart by betrayal and bloodshed. Now, the kingdom’s fragile peace rests on the shoulders of a bride and groom who barely speak. As Clara walks down the aisle, memories of the boy who used to tease her and teach her how to fish clash with the man waiting at the altar—stoic, cold, and unreadable. Darrell has not forgotten the past, nor has he forgiven it. Their vows are spoken through clenched teeth, their first kiss a mere brush on the cheek. This is not a love story born of fa

“Stop this.” I so desperately wanted to die of embarrassment as the heat and dampness from my panties brushed against my skin. My worry that he would see my soaked underwear was outright replaced by his large palm coming down on my poor, innocent bare flesh. I howled in more fury than pain this time, the insult to my pride feeding that fury. “My house, my rules. And this body of yours is now mine. So my body, my rules.” “You... you don’t own my body.” I managed to stutter, but that only earned me another round of punishment. “My body, my rules,” he said again, and this time I sank my teeth into my bottom lip as hard as I could. “Are we clear?” “Yes."

A fresh out college mess decided to have a few harmless drinks before going to see her father. Well, a very irresistible stranger wasn't so harmless so why not risk it. Little did she know that he was someone close to her father. Her father's best friend. *********** “Tell me what you want,” he demanded. “You,” I gasped. “Harder. Please.” He gave it to me. Relentless. Possessive. One hand pinned my wrists above my head; the other gripped my hip, angling me exactly how he wanted. “You’re mine tonight,” he said against my throat, teeth grazing skin. “Say it.” “I’m yours,” I breathed, lost in him.

Panting harshly he grabbed your jaw while your chest got heavy, having tears in your eyes you feared this man to the core. You felt your knees weak whenever he was around you! "Brother-in-law, you are hurting me!" You spelled trying to shake his touch away while he gritted his teeth at your stubborn traits. "I am done waiting for my brother to throw you away to get you, seems like that bastard won't do shit so I have to snatch you away from him!" He spoke grabbing her wrist earning a hiss from her mouth. Her eyes were still teary made his heart burn. "You are mine more than him!"

Raw and Ruined: Short Erotic Sins Step into a world where desire doesn’t ask permission and shame is just foreplay. Several merciless, sweat-slick stories that don’t seduce—they take. No slow burns. No sweet nothings. Just skin slapping skin, nails carving lines down backs, mouths full, thighs trembling, and the kind of orgasms that make your vision white out and your voice break. These stories are greedy. They bruise. They stain sheets and memories. They leave teeth marks and handprints and the delicious ache of being used exactly the way you secretly always wanted. These are not love stories. These are lust stories. Short. Sharp. Unapologetic. And they will leave you throbbing