Dirty Rowdy Thing

Amerta is just a trash and satiation for Alpha Fred's power ego. Their meeting at that night, when Amerta was the only wolf left in the fire of her pack settlement which was brutally slaughtered, turned out to not be the end of Amerta's bad luck. After the death of her family, all members of her pack, even her mate, Amerta lived the life as an useless trash wolf in the Kingdom of Black Moon pack—Alpha Fred's power pack. Until when Alpha Fred realized the Moon Goddes reason sending Amerta from him, Amerta decided to leave him. He lost his wolf powers ahead of the big Red Moon Night war, and Amerta was no longer able to be his Luna. How could he fix the mess of his pack kingdom and bring back Amerta as his luna? When a dark secret known, everything turns out into broken pieces, will their love be repairable?

At the annual company banquet, the boss had the tables and chairs from the logistics department removed, leaving only a stainless steel dog bowl in the center of the stage. "Logistics is just the company's watchdog," he said coldly. "Since when do watchdogs sit at the table and eat?" The top sales champion laughed as he dumped leftovers into the bowl. The boss casually slipped a black garbage bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're the company's living trash can. Catch it properly." Laughter erupted across the room. Amid the jeers, I silently tightened my grip on the universal access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's special approvals for water and electricity—and all its property management connections—were maintained by this very "dog face" of mine. I tossed my ID badge into the dog bowl and turned to leave. Let's see how long you last once the new year passes—without logistics there to hold everything together.

"พราว พราววลิน" หญิงสาวผู้เกิดมาพร้อมกับความสมบูรณ์แบบ เธอสวย เธอเก่ง เธอเพียบพร้อม และไม่ยอมใครแต่จะมีใครรู้ล่ะว่า "นางร้ายในคราบของนางฟ้า" เบื้องหลังความสำเร็จของเธอจะผ่านเรื่องราวอะไรมาบ้าง

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.

My boyfriend said that art held no restrictions, so he used my provocative paintings to enter a competition. Amidst a row of classic ceramic figurines, I became famous. He shot to fame, landing in the top ten of trending searches, while I was humiliated by the entire internet and mocked as a “ceramic influencer.” When I confronted him, he looked at me with disappointment. “They don’t understand art, and neither do you? I thought you would support my work, but I didn’t expect you to stir trouble! You’re so immature!”

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

Some lines aren't meant to be crossed. We cross them anyway. A struggling artist signs a contract to become a billionaire's live-in muse, in exchange for her to surrender her body, and even her soul. A college student watches his best friend's father through the window. The father watches back. And puts on a show. A therapist knows every trigger point of his patient's body. Late-night sessions become something far less professional. A man confesses his darkest desires to a priest who's bound by vows to only listen. The priest's restraint shatters. A photographer's lens captures more than boudoir photos. Eventually, he puts down the camera. Two stepbrothers' best friends steal moments in a house full of people who can't know. The risk makes it hotter. A student loses a dare and brings a vibrator to her strictest professor's class. He hacks it. Control it and own her. Two rival lawyers hate each other in court. In hotel rooms, they work out their aggression the only way that satisfies. This isn't romance. This is an obsession collection not for the faint hearted. GET WET. GET WILD. GET LOST IN THE FORBIDDEN.

“Sign it!” Marcus didn’t even look at me when he tossed the divorce papers onto the bed—not at the husband he had lived with for two years, not at the man he pulled from a collapsing life, not at the man who the world was against marrying. He only said, “He’s back,” and that was enough to end everything. So I signed the papers, regretting knowing the man who taught me what it felt like to be wanted again and walked out of the mansion we once shared. A year later, the headlines screamed the unthinkable: CEO of Hale Enterprises, Marcus Hale, Loses Everything. I realized it was the perfect time to exert my revenge on him. But I didn’t expect to find my stepbrother on his knees, broken, desperate, and still looking at me like I’m the only thing he has left. Then a message appears on my phone:Do you want to know the truth about your mother’s death? Now I’m trapped between the past I ran from and a man I swore I would never forgive. As secrets surface, lies unravel, and desire refuses to die, I realize this divorce was never the end. It was the beginning. And this time, my stepbrother will regret choosing anyone.

Every chapter gives you something new, secret affairs, risky relationships, and characters who crave hard and love harder. Think Mafia, Landlord, Alpha, every dirty fantasies you can think of. Professor and student. Neighbor crush. Master and submissive. If you’re 18+ and ready for filthy, wild, messy passion then this ride is for you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 'Confess more while I absolve you.' His fingers plunged into her pussy, still slick from earlier, pumping roughly. Isabella gasped, gripping the kneeler. 'I... I rode his cock, bouncing until he spanked me. Oh God, your fingers... deeper.' Miguel added a third, stretching her, thumb on her clit. He leaned in, whispering, 'Did he make you cum as hard as I did?' She nodded, moaning. 'But not like this. Not in God's house.' He withdrew his fingers, slick with her arousal, and smeared them on his cock before pressing the head to her entrance. 'Kneel properly, face the screen.' She did, ass out toward him. He thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in one go. The booth shook slightly with the force. 'Continue your confession,' he ordered, pulling back and slamming in again. 'Javier... he fingered my ass while fucking me,' she panted, pushing back onto his cock. Miguel growled, jealous fire fueling his thrusts. He grabbed her hips, pounding harder, the wet sounds obscene in the sacred space. 'You're a slut for cock, aren't you? My slut.' His hand snaked around, rubbing her clit in fast circles. 'Yes, Father! Fuck your slut while I confess.' She reached back, spreading her cheeks, inviting him deeper. He spat on her asshole, working a finger in alongside his pistoning cock.

Vampires only ever took one mate in their lifetime. And yet, my vampire husband refused to acknowledge me—his human wife, bound to him through an arranged marriage. On the night of our tenth wedding anniversary, Jason brought another woman into my bed. She was wearing my nightgown. She was carrying his child. And in my hand, I held a pregnancy test I'd just had confirmed. "Be reasonable, Elena. Jessica just conceived my child. She needs me." "Go sleep in the guest room. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." My husband shielded the other woman, his smile polished and gentlemanly, though his eyes held the same icy indifference they always did. When he saw me frozen in the doorway, Jason assumed I was going to do what I always did. Scream. Cry. Demand to know why he kept doing this to me. But he didn't know—this time was different. The ten-year contract had come due, and I was finally leaving him for good.