Gacha Table Novels & Stories

In the shadows of forbidden nights and the blaze of stolen moments, pleasure knows no limits. This scorching anthology delivers pulse-pounding tales of raw lust, tangled limbs, and hearts racing toward ecstasy. From a dominant CEO who claims his innocent assistant on the boardroom table, to a seductive stranger who unlocks a married woman's deepest, darkest cravings in a moonlit hotel suite, every story drips with sweat, sin, and satisfaction. Feel the heat rise as rivals become lovers in a rain-soaked argument that ends with clothes torn and bodies colliding. Shiver with a shy bookworm who surrenders to the commanding touch of her mysterious professor after hours. Burn with the intensity of a reunion that reignites old flames into an all-consuming inferno of passion, toys, and breathless multiple orgasms. These stories don't just tease—they devour. Explicit, unapologetic, and deliciously filthy, it will leave you aching, flushed, and desperately wanting more. Perfect for late-night reading... or sharing with someone who can help you act out every wicked scene. Warning: Extremely hot. Proceed with damp p*nties and an open mind. Ready to dive in? Your next favorite fantasy awaits.

Ellie thought she had hit rock bottom. A mountain of debt. A mother's house slipping through her fingers. A future that looked hopeless. Then he walked into the diner where she worked. Liam. Quiet. Mysterious. A stranger who knew everything about her. He slid an envelope across the table and changed her life forever. The deed to her house. Free and clear. No strings attached. There was just one condition. Marry him for thirty days. She said yes out of desperation. She did not ask questions. She did not Google his name. She definitely did not expect to wake up in a penthouse overlooking the entire city. Because Liam is not just Liam. He is the richest man in the country. A reclusive billionaire who has never let anyone close. And now Ellie is his wife. But thirty days is a long time. Long enough to discover his secrets. Long enough to question her own. And long enough to break the only rule she made for herself. She promised she would not fall in love with him. The question is whether he will let her go when the thirty days are over.

Aurora Ashwood was supposed to be a Luna. Instead, on the day she was meant to be claimed, Damian Blackwood rejected her in front of the whole Mooncrest Pack for the crime of being "wolfless". That same night, in a city she'd never seen, she fell into the bed of a masked stranger who left her with two things: a crowned-wolf cufflink, and a son. Five years later, that son is dying — and the cufflink belongs to the Lycan King. Kael Draven doesn't remember her. He remembers the night he buried his grief in a woman whose name he never asked. But the moment he sees the boy with his frown and her silver eyes, the math is done — and the marriage contract is on the table before she can refuse. What neither of them knows: Aurora is not wolfless. She is the last of a slaughtered line. Their son carries a bloodline that has never existed before. And the man who arranged the slaughter twenty years ago has just realized that the rejected girl who walked into his king's tower is the woman he has spent two decades hunting. The Lycan King will give her a crown. But she's going to take a throne.

Richard Lorde’s childhood friend had just become a widow. On our fifth wedding anniversary, he brought his childhood friend and her daughter into a karaoke box and removed my ring right before everyone. “Lily needs a proper status right now. It’s no longer right for you to wear that ring. “Resign from your job tomorrow and take care of Lily and her daughter.” Everyone in the room fell silent as they waited for me to blow my top off. But I said nothing. I calmly brought out the divorce agreement I had already signed, put it on the table, and left. My best friend stood up to advise me against it, but Richard just swung the wine glass and snorted. “Let her. She’ll come begging for my forgiveness before tomorrow.” When I slammed the door shut, I heard laughter from the room. What they did not know was that half an hour ago, I had received a message telling me that my visa application had been approved. The person in charge of picking me up had been waiting at my house ten minutes ago. This time, I was not turning back.

Ericka Matthews has been in love with her roommate for two years. The problem? Dominic Anderson made her sign a contract when she moved in: no romance allowed, or she's out. She's respected that boundary, hidden her feelings, and watched him from across the breakfast table every morning without letting on. Then Dominic kisses her. And immediately tells her not to kiss him back. Heartbroken and humiliated, Ericka decides to disappear. She has a backup plan, savings, and an apartment lined up. She'll be gone before he even notices. But when she collapses on campus and ends up in the hospital, Dominic is forced to confront what losing her actually means. The contract gets torn up. Confessions are made. And it turns out their mothers have been running a secret spy network dedicated to getting them together for three years. Now they just have to survive Sunday dinner with both families and Aunt Linda's unopened Christmas presents. A contemporary romance about two idiots who wasted three years pretending to be "just roommates," the meddling families who saw right through them, and the kiss that finally broke all the rules.

After my year-end bonus came in, I immediately transferred 10,000 dollars to my husband to buy New Year’s gifts for both our parents. I even told him to get the very best, especially that case of whisky for my father. On New Year’s Eve, I rushed home to have dinner with my parents. However, at the table that night, Dad, who had always loved his drinks, was sipping tea instead. I was confused. “Dad, it’s the holidays. Why didn't you bring out the liquor?” I smiled as I rose to my feet to grab the case. “Kevin went out of his way to get this. I heard it tastes amazing.” “Don’t touch it!” Dad slammed his teacup against the floor. His face was flushed dark red. “Zeena, don’t send this stuff anymore. I know it’s not easy for you to make money in the city. But even if our Collins family is poor, we still have our pride! People in the village are talking behind my back, saying I’m putting on airs!” I was completely stunned. I opened the bottle and took a sip, then froze for a moment. This was not whisky at all. It was just plain water.

My wedding starts at 12:00 pm on the dot. There are 58 tables, each table costing 8888 dollars. 120 bottles of premium liquor have been opened. 300 packs of top-tier cigarettes are unsealed. At 2:30 pm, all the guests have left the scene, leaving nothing but a huge mess behind. That's when a server hands me the bill. "It'll be 510 thousand dollars, miss." I'm left gobsmacked. "I'm a wedding guest, not the organizer." The groom is Charlie Humboldt, my ex-boyfriend. At the moment, he takes his pregnant bride, Sasha Fitch, by the hand while sneering at me. "Since you're here, you might as well foot the bill. Think of it as your way of compensating for my youth." Charlie's mother, Melissa Carlton, moves to block the door. "If you're not paying the bill, then you can forget about leaving. No one wants you anyway, so you might as well stay here and pay off your debt by working as a dishwasher!" As I stare at the shameless family, I dig out my phone quietly. What they don't know is that this five-star hotel is a gift from my dad to me.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

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?

I'd been bonded to my mate, Brandon Blackstone, the Alpha heir of the Blackstone pack, for three years. But I'd never been allowed to attend his family dinners. Every full moon, I could only stay home alone. Brandon said it was a centuries-old tradition of the Blackstone pack. Only after passing a long probationary period, proving absolute loyalty to the pack and one's mate, would someone be allowed to attend the Alpha's family dinners. I'd believed him for three whole years. But now, I'd found three photos in his car. In the background, I could see a long table laden with a variety of fruits and delectable dishes. The Alpha and Luna raised their glasses beside the statue of the Moon Goddess, standing quietly to the side. And beside Brandon stood a beautiful she-wolf. Moonlight spilled down, and I could clearly see how close they were standing, their fingers tightly interlaced. That was when I finally understood. Not being allowed to attend the dinners was never about some probationary period. It was because Brandon, or rather the entire Blackstone pack, believed that the person qualified to stand beside the future Alpha would never be me.