Die Inside

"Little mouse thought she could run from us, but look at her now—spread open, begging, taking every inch like she was made for it." My toes curled as Caspian's deep octave sent shockwaves through my body, pussy dripping with every brutal thrust he made deeper into my cunt. My back arched off the bed, and my lips parted… body trembling as every stroke pushed me closer to shattering completely. Zavian's hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to steal my breath. "Tell him how good it feels, pet. Tell him who owns this body now." *** I didn't mean to surrender to them, but I did. And one night of reckless abandon,born from heartbreak and humiliation, suddenly became my new addiction. It should have been nothing but a drunken mistake… but what happens when your biggest mistake refuses to let you go? When the men who once made you cry now make you scream their names in every hidden corner of the city… right under your ex-fiancé's nose? I should not crave them. I should not melt when Zavian's fingers dig into my hips while Caspian's mouth does sinful things between my thighs. I should not ache for the way they unravel me completely, turning me into a desperate, trembling mess who can't remember why she ever tried to resist… but I do. And they've made damn sure I understand that my body doesn't belong to me anymore. It belongs to them.

I was just a married woman trying to survive my husband’s debts. But when I took the job as a maid for three powerful, controlling, dominant men. I walked into something far darker than dusty shelves and dishes in the sink. They don’t just want their floors spotless. No, they want me bound and bent over on their bed. They say I’m too pretty to be stuck with a loser and too sweet for plain sex and too soft to resist them. And they’ll stop at nothing until they ruin my marriage, break me open and make me theirs. Even if it means dragging me into a world where dominance is law, and obedience is survival.

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

Vous trouvez 2020 compliqué ? Essayez de vivre avec un démon à l'intérieur de votre corps dans un monde où ils sont nos plus grands ennemis. Afin de trouver ma place dans ce monde, j'ai décidé de rejoindre la garde en espérant fuir ma famille et peut-être en savoir plus sur l'origine de ma naissance. Ma vie n'a jamais été facile mais je n'avais vraiment pas besoin d'un crétin égocentrique de se mêler à l'équation.

Angel Hale has spent her whole life worshipping one man. Vincent Hale. He was the man who adopted her after her parents died in a mysterious cold blooded murder by their enemies. To Angel, Vincent is perfection. His deep voice dampens her panties, his presence makes her knees go weak. She calls him Daddy, not by blood, but by obsession, desire, and the twisted bond she built around him since childhood. But Vincent has a dark secret, one that will turn Angel’s world upside down. Now she is stuck between two daddies. Uncle Daniel who wants to ruin her and Daddy who tells her she is his. Only his. But Angel cannot resist the desire of both men who want to claim her. Can she defy the Daddy she loved so blindly? Or will Daniel pull drag her back into his darkness forever? And even more terrifying… What will Daniel do when someone tries to take his doll away? Even if it’s his best friend. The war between Daddy and Uncle is coming—and Angel is the prize both are willing to spill blood to claim. PLEASE NOTE: This book is an extremely DARK EROTIC romance with HEAVY EXPLICIT scenes, torture, human trafficking. The main characters are the villains you don’t want to cross paths with. Be warned!!!

"Choke on my dick, baby girl," Daddy growled, fisting my hair as he shoved his cock down my throat. "This what you wanted?" he growled. "Your uncle's cock inside you? Fucking you while your parents sleep upstairs?" • She’s young, dripping wet, and utterly fucked the moment they lay eyes on her. In YOURS, DADDIES, one insatiable woman gets claimed hard and without mercy by older, dominant men who know exactly how to break her open and make her beg. These aren’t gentle lovers—they’re rough, experienced daddies who growl “Mine” while pinning her down, stretching her tight holes with thick cocks, and filling her until she’s leaking their cum and screaming their names. From the ruthless CEO who bends her over his desk, spanking her ass red before fucking her throat raw and calling her his perfect little slut… to the tattooed brothers who take turns pounding her in every position, double-penetrating her until she’s a trembling, cum-drenched mess, sobbing “Yes, Daddy, harder.” Every story is packed with filthy daddy kink: choking grips on her throat, praise mixed with degradation (“Such a good girl taking two cocks like a whore”), rough breeding fantasies, light bondage, and group scenes where multiple alphas use her body like their personal toy—edging her, denying her orgasms, then ruining her with explosive releases. No vanilla bullshit here. Just raw, sweat-soaked, pussy-pounding obsession. She gets marked, owned, and ruined in the dirtiest ways possible—left gaping, bruised, and addicted to being their fucktoy. If you can’t handle getting soaked just reading the warnings… walk away now. But if you crave being utterly destroyed by possessive daddies who won’t stop until you’re theirs forever—open wide, baby girl. They’re coming for every hole.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

My mother-in-law, Daisy Rothbart, gets pregnant around the same time I do. We even give birth to baby boys via cesarean sections on the same day. However, her infant dies later, and that's when she suddenly starts showering my son, Casey Dyson, with all her love and attention. After Casey officially takes over the family business one day, my husband, Jerome Dyson, and I die in an accident out at sea. However, my spirit remains close to Casey even after my death, and that's when I find out that he starts calling Daisy "Mom" while crying in relief. It is only then that I learn that the son I'd been bringing up for 20 years had been secretly switched at birth by none other than Daisy. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'd traveled back in time to the day when Daisy and I were both scheduled to undergo cesarean sections at the hospital.