Filed Teeth

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.

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.

I was randomly proposed to by an attractive billionaire who has never been known to be in any kind of relationship; he was every woman's dream man. He wasn’t just any incredibly handsome billionaire; he was New Yorks most eligible, and most fantasised-about billionaire bachelor. So when he asked me to marry him out of the blue, without even knowing my last name, I couldn’t say no. Any woman would have jump at the chance if she were in my place at that moment. But little did I know that my living hell was about to begin. Despite living in luxury, having access to money I had run out of ideas on how to spend, and being the wife of Aldwin Ellison, the insanely handsome billionaire whom influential women had clung to in the hope of being his, I still felt unloved and unhappy.. In his eyes, the only thing I was good for was satisfying his dark sexual desires; I was only meant to please him, not receive love. Determined to end my misery, I filed for a divorce unaware that the marriage contract I signed with Aldwin had a hidden clause: “The marriage comes to an end If, and only when, Aldwin Ellison says so.” I had signed away my rights to becoming his plaything.

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it. Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married. I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship. I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them. I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive. Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application. After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously: "So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?" I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart— This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application. After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced. But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

“When a devil falls in love, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever. And you should be terrified, for he will go to the depths of hell for her.” What happens when Xena Remington , a shy girl who was often termed as a loser and unconfident but actually has a smart mouth has been dating a man who is working in the Lancaster enterprise for years and helps her get a job there as the HR? Axel Lancaster was a devil in disguise with the most beautiful face and body of an Adonis. He was known for his cruel and lethal ways. Everyone in the country knew he was a bad man, but nobody, not even the cops tried to bother him. It was a known fact that he was the CEO of an enterprise which was just a cover-up to smoothly run his mafia business. Xena was terribly scared of Axel Lancaster, the name itself would make her shiver in fear as she remembered all the horrid tales she has heard about him, but she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. She hoped she would never have to meet him. What happens when due to a lawsuit filed against Axel Lancaster, Xena has to come face to face with the man she has dreaded to meet?

On the night of our eighth anniversary, I cooked everything Ethan loved. He didn't come home. I sat alone at the table until the food went cold. Then I did what I always did. I opened Selene's profile on the pack network. New post. One hour ago. A photo of Ethan, shirtless, building a fire in her den. Her hand on his shoulder. Her face turned toward the camera with a smile that showed too many teeth. The caption read: Grateful for old friends who drop everything when you need them. Even their marking anniversaries. I stared at it until my eyes burned. Then I liked it. Filed the bond-dissolution request. And started packing the trunk I'd kept ready for months. Ethan didn't believe it when he found out. "She's throwing a fit," I heard he told his packmates. "Give her three days." "I'll crook my finger and she'll come running back." "She always does." What he didn't understand was why I always came back. It was because I loved him. That was gone now.

[MATURE CONTENT: DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE] 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 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.  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’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.