Cutting Teeth

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

On my birthday, one of my husband’s subordinates leaned close to him and whispered in Russian, “Sasha has a surprise prepared for you tonight.” My husband smiled at me as he finished cutting my cake. Then, in the same language, he replied, “She has quite a few tricks in bed. I’ll see her later. “Just don’t let Madam find out, or I’m afraid I’ll get thrown out.” Everyone around laughed and assured keep it quiet. None of them knew that I’d been fluent in multiple languages since I was a child. What they also didn’t know was that I’d found the hidden phone he kept in the false drawer, where all the filthy videos of him and Sasha were saved. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I contacted a few remaining connections in the Vegas and had them prepare a new identity for me. In three days, Claire Vega would no longer exist, and he would never have me again.

She fell in love with him at first sight, but loving Nathaniel Cross was the beginning of her heartbreak. Once, he had crushed her beneath his indifference, stripping her of dignity, love, and hope. He was ruthless, cold, and distant—never giving her a chance to fight back. His cruel words were like blades, cutting deep, and his rejection left wounds that never truly healed. But fate was not done with them. Years later, Nathaniel Cross returned—not as the untouchable man she once feared, but as someone desperate to right his wrongs. She wanted to forget him, but he refused to let go. He had already given up everything for her once, even if she never knew it. And now, he would stop at nothing to bring her back into his life—no matter what it took. Would she be able to forgive the man who once shattered her? Or would she walk away forever, leaving behind the love that refused to die?

A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," he mutters. He roughly tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  I gasp. He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.

"I'm carrying your child, Alpha Donavon," I said, watching his reaction from the ground I sat on. "Repeat what you said," he said, and he walked towards me while I stood up from the ground to face him. "I'm carrying your chill..." I barely completed when I felt his hands on my throat, gripping it hard and cutting me short of breath. This cannot be my child! Because I'm impotent," he said, spat on my face while throwing me across the room, with my body sprawled on the ground.   When the daughter of Alpha Donavon's arch enemy tells him she's carrying his child after a night with her, he rejects and disposes of her claims because he's impotent. What happens when, years later, Alpha Donavon realizes that he's not impotent and Zuri is carrying his child when he sees them? Does he claim them as his, and does Zuri give him the chance to?

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!"

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.

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, aching, and reaching for someone—or something—to ruin you next. Raw and Ruined: Short Erotic Sins Because sometimes the dirtiest thing you can do… is let yourself be devoured.

He slammed her back against the closed door making her grit her teeth as she glared at him. “Camellia,” his voice was dripping with controlled fury yet that endearment rolled off his tongue in a raspy growl. “I don’t like other men touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing her jaw, his fingers firmly pressing into her cheeks as he made her hazel eyes look into his dark greys. “I’m not yours,” she said with gathered-up bravado though his intimidating presence made her feel so timid. He leaned closer as her eyes fell on the camellia flower that was inked on his neck. His hot breath tickled her lips as his intense stare lingered on her lips. “You’re mine, Camellia. Mine!” With a low growl, he crashed his lips on hers. DARK ROMANCE!

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.