Filth

"You think you have a choice?" Vittorio squeezed my nipples with his hand and my sanity with the other. “ You were never going to be anyone else's from the moment I set eyes on you”. His voice a deadly whisper His words cut through me making my chest tighten with fear "You’re Ours, kitten," he continued, his gaze locking onto mine and stealing the breath from my lungs. "You will be claimed, used, and Fucked however I see fit. Do you understand?" "I... I understand," I whispered, feeling my resistance crumble under his dark, green eyes. "You will lay before me, Katarina," he commanded his voice a low growl. "Spread your swollen pussy wide, and show me how desperate you are for me to fuck you." Katarina Delgado was supposed to belong to another man. Sold like property to Mafia Don Giordano, her virginity was payment for a debt her father couldn't afford. But when her brother Mateo tries to save her and fails, she ends up in the hands of a deadlier monster: Vittorio De Luca, the brutal mafia king who cages her, collars her, and whispers filth like love. Now, locked in a war between cartels, Katarina is the prize. But not just for Vittorio. Valentino De Luca, his missing twin, has returned. Sharper. Slower. Unhinged. And he doesn’t want to steal her. He wants to share her. Together. In a world of cages, kings, and betrayal, the only thing more dangerous than being wanted… is being wanted by both of them.

“Hold her mouth open, she’s too polite to ask for it.” A firm hand grips my jaw, keeping it wide, as another man groans above me, thick and pulsing, his cock sliding against my tongue with punishing rhythm. She was supposed to be a transaction. One night. A girl forced to sell herself for money, and three men who could offer more than she’d ever dreamed, for a price. But Harper isn’t like the others. When she steps into that hotel suite, fragile and brave all at once, she isn’t just agreeing to pleasure. She’s agreeing to surrender. And something about her, about the way she flinches, the way she obeys, the way she doesn’t ask for more, makes them all pause. They own a club built on power, discipline, and unshakable rules. But she doesn’t know any of that yet. All she knows is what it feels like to be touched like she matters, just once. When they ask if she wants more, she says the wrong thing. “I’d have to ask Mark.” What should’ve been a second arrangement turns into a revelation. Because they know what Mark is. And now they know what he’s been doing to her. Two days later, they offer her another night. Same price. Only this time… they don’t plan on letting her go back. “Good girls take it. All of it. Even when it hurts.” I scream into the pillow as one thrusts deeper, harder, while the other presses his weight against my back, whispering filth into my ear and slapping my thigh until I shake.

His fingers were already at the lace between my thighs when he pushed me against the marble vanity, breath hot, voice darker than sin, his arousal pressing against my throbbing core. "Open your legs for me, Mrs Valentino." He didn’t wait. He plunged into me roughly, his mouth trailing down my neck like he owned it. I hated the way my body arched for him. I hated even more that he smirked when it did. I was supposed to be terrified, not trembling for the man who forced a ring onto my finger two days after abducting me. Before Dante Valentino touched me like that... before he whispered filth and promises into my ears, I was Valentina Morrison: a quiet girl, psychology graduate, volunteer counselor blissfully unaware that my entire life was a lie. I didn’t know the truth about my parents. I didn't know my bloodline belonged to a mafia empire that their hands were filled with blood. I only knew one thing the night I witnessed a murder in a Manhattan alley and it was that I was going to die...until he showed up. Dante, the most feared Italian boss in New York. He was ruthless and calculating. He didn't save me, he claimed me. Only because I’m not just some civilian. I'm the last surviving Castellano heir, the one piece of leverage that can rewrite the entire underworld. So Dante forced a marriage to protect me. To control me. To bind me to him in pleasure and law. And somewhere between running from gunfire and running from him, I made the worst mistake possible: I let the devil touch me. I let his hands teach my body a language my mind despises but my body craves. I let him explore me.

They abused her. Used her for their dirty work. Humiliated her publicly. Treated her like filth on their shoes. They called her an omega. A servant. A mistake. But the Moon never forgot her name. Daeira (Day-rah) *Dee* to her friends, doesn't remember the night her family was slaughtered. She doesn't know she's the last living heir of the Seralyn Pack, sacred white wolves descended from the Moon Goddess Selene. Blessed with lunar & healing magic, divine power, and moon fire in their blood. All she knows is cruelty, hunger, and survival in the most ruthless pack in existence. Raised by the wolves who killed her bloodline, Daeira has spent her life in the shadows, beaten, starved, silenced. She hides her strength. Hides her power. Hides the truth of what her wolf really is. Until the night she turns eighteen... and the Moon wakes her. Her wolf rises in a blaze of silver flame, and for the first time, Daeira sees what she really is, chosen, divine, and deadly. But when her fated mate, the Alpha's son, rejects her in front of the entire pack, everything shatters. She doesn't beg. She doesn't break. She runs. Because Daeira isn't the broken little thing they raised in a cage. She's the prophecy made flesh. And the world has no idea what's coming. An ancient evil is spreading through the wolf realm. The rift to the hell realm has cracked wide open. Demons walk the earth. Angels are falling from the skies to stop them. And Daeira? She's the only one who can close the breach. The wolves who cast her out are about to learn: The Moon doesn't bless without purpose. She sure as hell doesn't forgive. ✅ Reverse Harem/Dark Romance ✅ Rejected mate ✅ Dark Magic/Demons ✅ Hidden goddess bloodline

When last did you cum? Because this collection of sins will have you on your bed—lights dimmed low, music turned up, and fingers buried deep in your soaking wet pussy—screaming yourself hoarse as you cum over and over like a good little girl. This isn’t a book. It’s a one-way descent into every dark, forbidden craving you swore you’d never entertain. Stepbrothers who watch you bend over in short skirts. Stepdaddies who linger at your bedroom door. Priests who break every vow just to taste what they shouldn’t. And possessive, brutal men who don’t believe in sharing unless it’s you, stretched wide and ruined between them. Where desire meets defiance and surrender. Forbidden love stories with dominant men that have you on your knees, gasping, throat stuffed, body hot and begging for more. To be used, to be abused, conquered. These men don’t ask. They take. They drag you into their world of sin and make you like it. You'll cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache. Beg for their hands, their mouths, their cocks—anywhere, everywhere. They’ll whisper filth into your ear while your legs tremble. Force you to admit how wet you are, how badly you want it. And you’ll obey, because good girls don’t keep secrets. They don’t care if they’re your stepfather. Your priest. Your brother-in-laws. Your best friend’s brother. Or all of them at once. They’ll spit on your morals. Corrupt your innocence. Fuck you until your name’s forgotten and only theirs remains. So light the candles. Get the toys. Say your prayers, if you dare. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you—It owns you. And you’ll love every wicked, filthy, degrading second of it. FB Page: Ireti.

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.

To save the merfolk from slaughter, I seduced the vampire lord himself-Lazarus. He still loved me after all. For three days and three nights, he drowned himself in my body, unwilling to let me out of his arms for even a second. I roused from the haze of fleeting bliss, only to have a searing, corrosive liquid poured mercilessly over my head. "You with eternal healing can taste the sting of agony？" "Yet your trivial suffering pales in comparison to the loss of my kin you brought upon me. It is nothing at all!" "This is merely the beginning. Refuse to reveal where my parents lie hidden, and you shall never break free from this castle." He was convinced that I alone had destroyed everything he held dear. Holding the entire merfolk’s lives hostage, he confined me within the castle. Time and again, he tore open my chest by force, wrenching out my pearl of the mer, feeding its essence to Isolde to mend her frail flesh. He condemned me to sleepless nights, forcing me to cleanse the filth he left behind. Barefoot, I was made to dance the mermaid’s lament upon razor-sharp silver blades, writhing in pain to lull Isolde into slumber. Later, Isolde feigned a pregnancy. Driven by false tenderness for her, Lazarus took to slicing chunks of my immortal mermaid flesh with cold blades, brewing them into nourishing potions for her. Hatred for me burned deep in his bones, yet whenever I was on the brink of death, he would still force his own blood down my throat to keep me alive. "You presume too much on my lingering love for you, choosing silence over the truth, do you not? Aurora… tell me, what became of my parents?" I endured in silence, bearing witness to his love torn between hatred and longing. Soon, I would no longer need to guard that fatal secret. For a mermaid who dwells on land for three years shall wither and perish, severed from the sea that gives her life. Only three days remained until my final breath.

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.

On my fifth birthday, my parents showed up at my birthday party later than usual. They brought with them a skinny little girl who couldn't seem to speak at all. I rushed over, hoping to hug Mom, only to get knocked down by her. That was how I fell into the ten-foot cake that my parents had specifically picked out for me. Buttercream filled my nose and mouth, suffocating me to no end. When I managed to climb out of the mess, I burst out in tears and asked Dad to cuddle me. But Dad retracted his hands while looking conflicted. "Don't blame your mom, Willow. From now on, you must take good care of Maple, your little sister. As long as Maple is happy, your mom will be happy." Later on, the mean kids in the neighborhood shove Maple Thompson, my new little sister, into a pile of sand. I rush over to protect her immediately. Once we get home, I mimic my parents by drawing a bath so that I can clean Maple up. That's when Mom suddenly barge into the bathroom and slap me heavily across the face. "You've already enjoyed our love for the past five years! Why are you still greedy for more? I can't believe you're trying to drown Maple right now!" Mom's eyes have gone bloodshot. She drags me by the hair and stuffs me into the washing machine. "Only a washing machine is capable of cleanse that filth out of your soul! You can only scramble out of the washing machine and apologize to Maple once you've decided to quit bullying your sister!" In the living room, Dad lowers his voice. "Keep your voice down when you're chewing Willow out. Maple is about to fall asleep. Don't go around waking her up now." Mom doesn't want to look at me anymore. Instead, she slams the lid onto the washing machine forcefully. I can't get out of the machine. What she doesn't know is that the washing machine will activate. "The 212-degree-Fahrenheit wash cycle has been activated." Scalding hot water is soon dumped onto my body. It hurts so much that I gradually lose my consciousness. Will Mom love me again once I'm squeaky clean after the wash cycle?