Filth

I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage. She paid my tuition with his father’s money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I’ll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose. Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me. So I moved into the Hunters’ mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell. Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more. I thought graduation meant freedom from him. I was wrong. Now he’s my stepbrother. He hates that I’m here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me. But hate isn’t clean anymore. It’s tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me, the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I’m shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more. He calls me Little Lamb, I call him every name I can think of under my breath. How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?

"You can scream. Nobody's coming to save you." His c^ck is buried so deep I feel it in my ribs. My wrists are tied above my head with his belt while another man feeds his c^ck into my mouth. I'm gagging, drooling, mascara running down my cheeks, and my pussy is clenching so hard the one inside me groans. * * * This book contains extreme sexual content on every page. Gangbangs. Breeding. BDSM. Knotting. Choking. Double penetration. If your pussy isn't throbbing by the end of this warning, this book isn't for you. If you want something filthy. Something with thick cocks and rough hands and a voice that growls "good girl" while he's buried inside you. Something you'd never say out loud but your body responds to so hard your panties are wet before the fantasy even finishes playing. This book is that fantasy. Ten times over. C^cks shoved down throats until she's choking and drooling and begging with her eyes because her mouth is too full to speak. Pussies stretched around men so thick her walls ache for days. Two c^cks inside her at once while a third fills her mouth. Knots swelling and locking, pumping her so full her stomach feels heavy. Faces slapped mid-thrust while she whispers "again." Men who spit in her mouth, cum inside her raw, and don't let her clean up before the next one takes his turn. No slow burn. No fade to black. No soft landing. Just raw, graphic, unfiltered filth that starts on page one and doesn't let up until the final sentence. If the thought of being pinned, stretched, filled, bred, and used until cum is running down both your thighs makes something tighten low in your stomach, open the book. They're waiting. And they don't play gentle.

The cold seawater engulfs me, its relentless pull dragging me into the abyss. I kick desperately, my lungs burning, but the surface drifts farther and farther away. "Save me, Kane… save our child…" Pain lances through my body as I clutch my stomach, shielding the fragile life within me. The child I never thought I'd have, the child who was supposed to be our blessing. Through the watery haze, I see Kane Porter standing on the jagged cliffs above the shore. His tall, commanding figure is framed by the moonlight, his golden eyes burning with hatred. The alpha of the Nightfall Pack, the man who once whispered my name with reverence, now looks at me like I'm filth beneath his feet. His voice cuts through the roaring waves, sharp and merciless. "Don't think I don't know what you've done, Selene." The currents tug me deeper. My strength wanes, but his words stab deeper than the water ever could. "You drugged me with a philter, hoping to make me mark you—hoping to force your way into the position of my Luna. Because of your selfishness, Arya is gone. You destroyed her mind, pushed her into madness!" A shadow of despair twists across his face, but it vanishes beneath pure fury. "She fell from that cliff because of you." I shake my head, but I can’t speak. The sea is swallowing my voice. "Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day in torment? To live knowing the woman I loved died because of you?" His eyes glint like a wolf ready to tear out his prey's throat. "I want you to feel every ounce of that pain. I want you and your cursed child to die with her." The waves crash above me, and darkness claws at the edges of my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day Kane's philter takes effect. He approaches me, his face flushed and his breathing rapid. He's already undone his buttons. "Hang on, Kane. Arya will be here soon!" I back away and open the door behind me. Then, I run off.