Does Might Guy Die Novels & Stories

"Stop it, Dad! I'm your daughter-in-law!" Ever since my husband fails to get his willy up due to an accident, I keep bawling my eyes in the middle of the night. My father-in-law, Anthony Clarke, climbs into my bed at midnight out of sympathy toward me. "Natalie, you'll only hurt yourself if you keep using those toys. Here, let me help you." After that, he lifts my legs roughly.

Elle Smith is struggling. She's flat broke, in between jobs, and the only one providing for her nephew. The only job offer for her is stripping, and she's so desperate she might take it. Recommended by a friend, she then enters a strip club, where she catches the eye of Trevor Gomez, and she's not sure if that's a good thing. He's mysterious, handsome, and controlling. Then here comes Drake Saber; he is grumpy, strict, and protective. But when Elle’s life falls apart, she realizes that these two men might be the only ones who can keep her safe. Until when will she let her innocence last?

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

"That’s it, baby. Take Daddy’s thick cock like the good slut you are,” My husband's father growls, pounding inside my pussy while my husband thrusting into my ass with brutal force. “Yes... Fuck her, Daddy... Wreck that greedy cunt.” I’m trembling, impossibly full, their cocks grinding against each other inside me, stretching me to the breaking point, every thrust sending electric shocks straight to my clit. “Beg for it,” his father snarls, his fist tightening in my hair until tears prick my eyes. “Beg your husband and your Daddy to breed this slutty holes. Tell us exactly how bad you need our hot cum leaking out of both your wrecked openings for days.” **** These aren't your typical dirty daddy stories—these filthy fantasies shatter boundaries, ignite hidden kinks you didn't know you had, and leave you dripping for more. One taste, and you'll be begging for Daddy's cock all over again.

On the night of my wedding, my fated mate cut my heart out of my chest for his lover. I should have stayed dead. Instead, the cold, crazy goddess stitched me back together and gave me a choice: I have to tempt the Alpha King during his trial, Make him fall, Or die for real this time. So I did the unthinkable. I touched him. I pushed him. I teased him. I made the most dangerous man in the world want me and when he finally kissed me- some curse struck and I swapped bodies with him. Now I’m stuck in the Alpha King’s body for the rest of the trial, trying to hold his kingdom together while he’s trapped in mine. And when we finally switch back, the scandal is worse than either of us imagined. He wants me dead so he can stop the chaos I have caused. I want to live so I can exact my revenge. The curse isn’t done with us either, because we keep switching at the worst possible times, forcing us to feel everything the other feels. The heat. The hunger. The fury. The maddening desire. We can’t stop switching. We can’t stop touching each other, and I can’t tell if we’re going to kill each other first… or burn the kingdom down in his bed. He might be my curse, I might be his downfall.But the goddess didn’t give me a second chance just to die for him.

The day I learned the truth about my husband, Duke Alistair, and his adopted sister, Liana, I left. I abandoned my title, my home, and returned to my father's palace. A year passed. Then came news of chaos in the duchy. The servant Alistair sent spoke with desperation, “Your Highness, the Duke and your son are lost to reason. If you don’t return, I fear they will burn everything to the ground.” I looked at the blood I'd coughed onto my handkerchief. I nodded. "Fine. I'll go back." The doctor had already given me my diagnosis. Consumption. I had only a month left to live. So I went back. And I played the part of the perfect duchess. I no longer demanded Alistair's loyalty. I even found him three new mistresses who looked just like Liana and sent them to his bed after he had sent her away for me. I no longer made Damian study the arts of statecraft and not forced him to master his courtly duties. Instead, I supported his ridiculous dream of joining the Expeditionary Force. I took the pain they gave me. I wrapped it in the "understanding" they always craved. And I served it back to them cold. But it drove Alistair mad. He threw out the mistresses. He crushed me in his arms. His kiss was a punishment. He bit my lip, drawing blood. "I sent Liana away! What more do you want from me? How can I earn your forgiveness?" Damian cried and clung to my arm. "I'll never call Aunt Liana 'gentle' or 'beautiful' again! Mother, please. Just stop." They didn't understand. I wasn't making a scene. I just wanted to live out my last month in peace. And then, I wanted to die.

I gave him my loyalty, my body… even a kidney to save his life. And how did he thank me? He set me on fire.” Sheila thought she understood love. She believed in marriage, in sacrifice, in standing by the man you build a life with. But the man she trusted faked his death, stole her organ, and left her drowning in debt. Then, when she was of no use to him, he burned her alive to erase her from his perfect world. Only, Sheila didn’t die. She woke up in the bruised, broken body of another woman; a coma patient who had been struck by a powerful doctor now living with guilt. He tends to her. He doesn’t know who she truly is. And she’s not here to be saved. She’s here to settle the score. Disguised as a maid in her ex-husband’s house, Sheila keeps her head down and her eyes open. His new mistress is carrying his child—his secretary, the one he always said she was "crazy" for suspecting. The deeper she digs, the darker it gets. Money laundering. Organ trafficking. Even her kidney? Sold. But the past can’t stay buried forever. One night, he sees the birthmark on her thigh, the same one his wife had. The same one that died in the fire. He starts to unravel. She starts to rise. And when she returns to him fully reborn, fearless, and armed with evidence, he’ll finally understand: She’s not the weak wife he silenced. She’s the reckoning he never saw coming.

BLURB Aira accepted one night for money. Four men. One room. Masks on. No names. It was meant to end when the door opened. The next morning, she discovers the men she shared that room with now share her home with two stepbrothers, her stepfather, and a man who knows them all too well. None of them know they touched the same woman. Yet. As memories resurface through scent, proximity, and fractured restraint, Aira is forced to live inside a secret that grows more dangerous by the day. Because the masks are gone. And the truth is getting closer.

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

On the day of my wedding, I was stabbed, left to die... and forgotten. While I bled in my wedding dress, my fiancé married my sister. And my adoptive family, the people who I thought loved me never even looked for me. They all moved on like I never existed. I thought my world had ended. But I refused to stay a victim. Benjamin Grey, CEO of Grey Global found me, saved me, and helped me rise again. When I thought I would get my revenge, I found out that my biological mother who had been missing for fifteen years was alive, and held captive by my adoptive parents. The more I try to find peace, the more trouble comes in. And I wished I had died that day. Maybe death would've been easier than living with everything I now know. Maybe I won't have to face all these traumas. But life had other plans.