Fast Movement

They are both wondering: Can they truly move on, or will the embers of their past reignite into something far more dangerous?

Augustina Darius never planned to marry—especially not a man known for breaking enemies without mercy. But refusing Alpha Kael Dravaryn isn’t an option. It’s a death sentence. Bound by pack law and political necessity, Augustina is forced into a marriage where obedience is survival. In public, she plays the perfect Luna—quiet, graceful, compliant. Behind closed doors, she walks on invisible fault lines, knowing one wrong step could destroy her. Kael Dravaryn is everything the rumors claim: powerful, ruthless, and emotionally untouchable. His mansion is ruled by silence and secrets, and the shadow of his late wife lingers in every corridor. There are rooms Augustina is forbidden to enter. Questions she is warned never to ask. A past that refuses to stay buried. Then Kael’s five-year-old son says something that turns her blood cold. “I still see my mommy at night.” What begins as a child’s whisper becomes a trail of impossible truths—hidden doors, locked memories, and a death that may not have been an accident at all. As Augustina digs deeper into the Obsidian Vale estate, she realizes the greatest danger isn’t her husband’s reputation… It’s what he’s protecting. Because some secrets don’t just ruin marriages. They kill the women who uncover them.

Lorraine is an innate lesbian. She has no séxual attraction for the male gender, it has been that way since she was old enough to know what séxuality means and where she fell into. But, just because she cannot feel that level of attraction for the male gender does not mean she hates them. And that's where Dane comes in. Lorraine likes her guardian angel. Her best friend. Her legal guardian. Her Billionaire. Her...everything. His name is Dane. Dane who has been with her, since her parents died at the age of twelve. Dane, who's so protective of her and never likes to see her hurt. She can't live without him. Their friendship is rock solid. But, what Lorraine does not know is that Dane harbors feelings for her. One that goes beyond friendship. Beyond ward-and-guardian feelings. The love he has for her so strong, with an even stronger sexual attraction. Dane has no idea when he started having these feelings but he knows that it's hopeless to have them for her. Lorraine is a Lesbian. Not Bi. Not transitioned. A full-fledged honest-to-God right-from-birth Lesbian. He stands no chance. Or does he? What kind of journey awaits these two people who loves themselves so much but in a complete different way? And what happens when a jealous ex-girlfriends rears her ugly head with danger practically trailing behind her?

"All because you are incredibly attractive doesn't give you the right to be fucking pompous and arrogant." Red slapped her hand over her mouth but it was too late, the words were out. "You find me attractive Red." He stepped closer to her, real close. His mother and friend still watching them. "I..d..on't." She stammered. Daniel took her chin in his hand and lifted her face, "Don't even think of falling for me or getting attracted." His voice was harsh, "I am not your type and would never look your way." The slap that landed on his face wasn't expected. _______ She was the girl without a surname, a terrible con artist and also the infamous petty thief on New York streets. 21 year old Red decided to find a Job and change to be a better person, the moment she walked through those big wooden doors her life changed drastically plus the bonus of having the perfect boyfriend, Capri lorenzo. He was New York's most eligible bachelor with riches and looks to die for. Daniel Hart was a cold hearted boss who worked endlessly to keep up his perfect image. That Monday morning when she walked into his office looking like a tornado, he hated her. he knew he had to be rid of her before she ruined his life. They hated each other and all it took for their lives to change was one heartbreak, a kiss and a steamy night.

Three women. And maybe more... Three stories. And more... All soaked in desire that doesn't care about rules, vows, or shame. These aren't tales of love-they're confessions of raw, hungry need. Lust that makes your cünt throb, your cöck twitch, your breath catch. Pages moist with sweat, wet with cūm, dripping with sin. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands-everything presses, slides, and fūcks in ways that make your pulse race. You'll read about pūssies dripping, cöcks hard and throbbing, mouths gagging and sūcking, āss cheeks spread, tongues sliding inside folds, fingers plunging deep. Every page pulses with heat, with mōans you can feel, with bodies colliding and fücking without mercy. Inside, nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. A married woman spreads wide for her forbidden lover. A professor trembles as her student takes her mouth. A stranger is bound and worshiped, every inch of her body devoured. And that's just the beginning. Every filthy craving, every desperate mōan, every secret you've never dared whisper-it's here. Women devour women. Men ravage men. Lovers cross every line they shouldn't. So go on. Pretend your fingers aren't twitching to turn the page. Pretend your thighs aren't already wet. Pretend your cöck isn't straining. But once you give in... once your eyes slide across the first word... you'll feel it- the slow, dirty pull between your thighs, the rush of want crawling through you, your body answering before your mind does. And from that moment- you don't just read it. You become it. Your püssy, your cöck, your jūices, your mōans, your filthy, trembling need-all mine to claim, to taste, to drive wild. So tell me-would you be mine? Would you dare turn these cūm-stained pages?

In a world where fairness should reign, injustice often holds sway. It's a place where the innocent suffer, where hard work doesn't always lead to success, and where privilege trumps merit. It's a world that can break hearts, crush dreams, and leave scars that never fully heal. Yet, amidst the darkness, there's still hope – hope for change, for empathy, and for a future where fairness isn't just a distant ideal, but a lived reality for all. But maybe that's not for me. After exchanging the rings I heaved a sigh of relief thinking that could be true, maybe there's truly hope somewhere. " You may now kiss the bride", the priest permitted. Every step he took towards me made me feel nervous, my heart pounding as fast as it could, and slowly he lifted my veil. I could bet I saw a smile for a second but it was immediately replaced with that of disgust on seeing me and he nearly puked. I thought this would be the beginning of dreams and not a nightmare but this would even be my worst nightmare. Wedding days are supposed to be the happiest days right? But that's not the case for me. Who said this world was ever fair? That was a big lie, if it is, to what extent?

Serafina Vale didn’t want love anymore, she wanted war and a husband to help her start it. Her ex-fiancé slept with her stepsister and proposed to her on camera, in front of everyone. So yeah—she needed to hit back, fast and publicly. With help from her best friend, Rhea, she was supposed to meet a broke model at a diner. Sweet guy, easy to handle. Just enough to stir drama and ruin the happy couple’s fairytale. But she sat at the wrong table and accidentally proposed to the wrong man. Dorian Everhart was the opposite of harmless. He was cold, unreadable and terrifyingly rich. He absolutely had no business saying yes. But…he did. He married her the same day with no questions asked or rules attached either. She thought she was the one using him. But he didn’t seem to bulge, and now, she’s starting to wonder, who really set this up? Why does her stepsister flinch every time Dorian’s name comes up? and why does he know so much about her family? What the hell does he want from her? And worse….why does a part of her want him to take it?

“Next question.” His eyes locked on her. He was close. Too close. Emily raised the tablet between them. “If your brand—” Scott pressed down on the tablet. Emily backed into the desk. Nowhere left to go. Scott placed his hands on either side of her, caging her in. His face inches from hers. “Scott—” “Next question.” His voice was rough. Emily’s breath caught. Heat flooded her body. “If your brand was a person,” she whispered, “how would you describe her—them?” His eyes dropped to her lips. “Resilient.” His thumb traced her jawline. “Beautiful.” His breath warmed her skin. “Irresistible.” The word hung between them. Emily’s heart pounded. One movement—one inch—and his lips would touch hers. She wanted it. God, she wanted it. “I should go.” Her voice shook. Scott’s jaw clenched. But he didn’t move. “The contract says no physical contact.” His blue eyes burned into hers. “It doesn’t say anything about wanting to.” Emily’s arranged marriage to Ian Hunter was a transaction—his family’s money for her father’s freedom. For three years, she endured his coldness, his cruelty, his mistress. The day his grandmother died, Ian filed for divorce and walked away with everything. Emily’s business collapsed. Ian’s empire grew. Now, she’s desperate enough to make a deal with the devil’s half-brother. Scott Hunter is pitched against his half-brother to claim his billion-dollar inheritance. One of the three requirements is a wife. Emily needs capital to rebuild—and revenge on the man who destroyed her. It shouldn't be. It's unheard of. It's supposed to be a simple contract: one year of marriage, no feelings, no complications. Except Scott can’t stop touching her. And Emily realizes she’s stopped pretending.

On campus, he was the most well-behaved student in the entire department. Oversized hoodies, black-rimmed glasses, quiet enough to fade into the background. Even when facing the notoriously strict Professor Elliott, he would only lower his head, clutch his books, and murmur a timid, “Professor.” At night, he became the most intoxicating dancer in the club. He wrapped himself around the pole, bent low, rolled his hips—each movement driving the men below into a frenzy. Bills were stuffed into the strap around his thigh as they shouted his name. To cover his obscene tuition fees, he took a private party offering an equally obscene payout. Inside the VIP room, he straddled the pole, bathed in dim, hazy light, fingers reaching for the final restraint he was meant to undo. Suddenly, the man lounging on the sofa stubbed out his cigar and stood. The light swept across his face— It was Elliott. The very man he feared most by day. He walked onto the stage step by step, then slammed him hard against the pole in full view of everyone. “Can’t even breathe in front of me during the day,” Elliott sneered, “but at night you’re here shaking your ass, begging men to f*k you?” His mentor wrenched his arms behind his back. Hot lips brushed his trembling earlobe, his voice low and dangerous. “Noah,” he murmured, “if you’re that desperate for money… why didn’t you just come to me? How much—per night?” He panicked and tried to struggle, but Elliott forced his legs apart with his knee, pinning him against the cold metal. “Don’t hide,” Elliott said softly. “Now. Take off the rest—right in front of me. And if you perform well…” A pause, deliberate. “I’ll pay you ten times tonight’s fee

“Kiss me.” The words tumbled out and Lex stepped back instantly. He turned away from her and Isis felt her pride being butchered. “Isis, I-” His voice travelled through the room. It was laced with uncertainty. His back was still to her. "I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I-uh. Good bye, Mr. Greyson.” Isis replied as she slid off the desk. She needed to leave, before her embarrassment killed her. Isis grabbed her bag and stalked off towards the door. A grip like iron encased her shoulder and she was spun around to face Mr. Greyson, he pushed her against the door and dropped her bag onto the floor. He pinned her body with his, a hand around her waist bringing her body against his and his other hand cupping her face. He ran his thumb along her lower lips and took satisfaction in her shuddering. He drew her hands up and anchored them above her head, pinning them to the door. His mouth slowly covered hers and moved teasingly. Isis gasped at the skillful movement of his lips against hers. He possessed her fully, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted her, devoured her and nothing was sweeter for Lex. He fought to control his natural instincts firing to life and focused on giving her this but he was certain he would gain the most pain from it. He knew he would never forget this kiss, never meet its equal. He pulled away from her, their breath labored. He rested his forehead against hers and committed the moment to memory. He leaned off her, let her hands drop to her sides, he handed Isis her bag. "Good bye, Ms. Davenport.” He replied with some pain as he turned the door knob and allowed her to leave.