Gojo Rings Novels & Stories

On the last day of the deadline for the loan repayment, I went to Liam Sommer's stepsister, Christine Sommer, to ask for the 300,000 dollars I had lent her. The next day, Liam threw a ledger I had never seen before in front of me. Liam said, "On your birthday last year, I transferred 8,100 dollars to you. On our tenth anniversary, I transferred 108,000 dollars to you. Also, at the beginning of every month, I transfer 20,000 dollars to you for your living expenses. You must pay me back by the end of today." I froze, but Liam smiled without a hint of warmth. "What’s wrong? You can't afford to repay me? Evelyn Lancaster, you shouldn't have given Christy trouble. This is my lesson to you. If you don't pay me back today, let's not meet for the next three years, and don't come looking for me." Over the next three years, I never saw Liam again, nor did I go looking for him. While he and Christine traveled around the world and wore couple rings, I married my childhood friend in front of our family and friends. While he and Christine walked along the beach and kissed, I moved into a new house with my husband, our cat, and our dog. Everything was moving along smoothly, but why was Liam standing under the window of my house in the middle of the night, crying and saying that he was unhappy?

The Filthiest Collection You'll Ever Read WARNING: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT They say some lines should never be crossed. This collection crosses every single one. Behind the altar, Father Michael discovers Sister Claire on her knees—but not in prayer. His fourteen-inch cock and her broken vows create the most sinful confession the church has ever witnessed. In the strip club's champagne room, ownership takes on new meaning when the boss claims his newest dancer in ways that blur every professional boundary. Money talks. His fifteen inches scream. The megachurch reverend with the monstrous sixteen-inch secret destroys his young secretary across his Bible-covered desk while his wife leads worship downstairs. Hypocrisy has never been so hard. Married bosses fuck their secretaries on desks still warm from morning meetings. Divorce lawyers claim vulnerable clients on the same couch where they signed papers. Addiction counselors enable relapses—the sexual kind. Therapists finally act on years of inappropriate desire when the final session becomes anything but professional. From nuns breaking vows to brides cheating the night before their weddings, from politicians risking everything to doctors violating every oath—these twenty stories explore the darkest desires we're told to suppress. Wedding rings stay on. Consequences are real. The sex is brutal, explicit, and described in devastating detail. Size matters—twelve to sixteen inches of it—and these encounters leave permanent marks on bodies and souls. No redemption. No excuses. No limits. Just raw, forbidden passion that destroys everything in its path. Are you brave enough to read what shouldn't be written?

After I had helped our law firm win nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a row, my husband, who had kept our marriage hidden for years, finally agreed to hold a wedding and make our relationship public. However, I waited until nightfall, and he never showed up. Instead, I saw a photo of him and his female assistant kissing in front of everyone at their wedding on Instagram. Her caption read, [I was just being mocked by my coworkers for being a bachelorette no one wants, and then my lawyer hero came to save me. From now on, I’ll be his perfect employee during the day, and he’ll be my loving husband at night.] In the photo, the wedding rings on their ring fingers were impossible to ignore. For a moment, everyone expected me to break down and make a scene. However, I simply smiled and left a comment under the post. [When are you two having a few kids? I’ll be sure to send over a big gift.] The very next second, my husband, who had been unreachable all day, finally called me. “Brit got pregnant out of wedlock, and the man who did it abandoned her,” he said coldly. “Her parents are extremely traditional. If this gets out, they’ll kill both her and the baby. As a lawyer, don’t you have any compassion for her at all? “Delete that comment right now. Apologize to her personally,” he continued. “Once she gives birth to the child and everything settles, I’ll hold another wedding with you.” I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand. Then, I let out a soft snicker. “No need,” I said. “Mr. Larson, just wait to receive our divorce case.”

“You can hide from anyone—but not from the devil who owns you.” There are choices that make us and others that break us. For Alessia Rivera, her worst mistake became her only way out. Alessia Rivera's world came crashing down the night she found her fiancé with her best friend in bed. Trust has been broken, humiliation dumped on her, everything ripped apart. But her family was concerned about power, not her pain. The marriage between her and Damon was politics, not love, and if she refused to play along, they would let her father rot in jail. One desperate night, Alessia sought escape in the arms of a stranger. A mistake. A secret. A fire that should not have happened. But Dante Moretti is not a man you forget. He is danger wrapped in a tailored suit, the kind of man people fear to whisper about. Cold. Commanding. Obsessive. And weeks later, Alessia learns the truth that rip her world apart: she is pregnant…And Dante is the father of her unborn child and he is also the mysterious new partner of her family’s empire. Now she is trapped in a cruel game. Marry the man who betrayed her to protect her father, or confess the truth to the devil who already marked her as his. To Dante, he doesn’t care about vows, rings, or the lies she hides behind. He wants one thing—her. And he will burn her world to ashes to claim what belongs to him. Because to Dante, love is not tender. Love is possession. Love is war. And Alessia is the only one that can quench this fire. The question is, how does one resist the devil who already owns her soul?

After Iris Miller ditches me at the altar for the seventh time just to be with her childhood sweetheart, Aaron Trent, the Millers personally show up on my doorstep so that they can apologize to me properly. "We'll add on another 11 pounds of gold, three buildings in the south-western district, and nine stores located in prime locations of the city center on top of the current list of wedding gifts in order to make it up to you." Before Daniel Miller is done speaking, Iris, who's listening to the conversation from her phone, lets out a light scoff. "As if Jasper deserves all these gifts. Believe me when I say I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand with just a pebble I randomly pick up on the street. Grandpa, I might as well invest these wedding gifts in Aaron's art gallery." Daniel quickly ends the call before looking at me in embarrassment. Soft mocking laughter rings out around me. Everyone is waiting for me to quietly endure all the humiliation, just like before. But I've already received such compensation six times in the past. I'm no longer interested in them. Heck, I'm no longer interested in Iris as well. After thinking for a moment, I glance at the crowd with a raised brow, where I find myself staring at Taylor Miller, Iris' most hated half-sister due to her illegitimate lineage. "Mr. Miller Senior, you mentioned that whoever I marry will become the future heiress of the Miller family. This promise still stands, right?" It's fine if Iris refuses to marry me. Plenty of women are dying to marry me anyway.

When my body is engulfed in flames, my firefighter father is watching a new movie with my sister. My mother is baking them a cake. I hear laughter in the living room, and I can smell the caramel popcorn in the kitchen. Today is my family's weekly family day—it's a day for my sister and parents to be with each other. The doorbell rings, and the perpetrator gives me a chance to ask for help. My limbs are bound, and stones fill my mouth. I stand at the door and desperately wait for my parents to open it. They don't get up. Instead, they sit on either side of my sister and hug her. "We promised you we'll only be with you on our family days. No one can disturb us." "What if it's Danica?" Ravenna Sutton, my sister, asks. "Her? She hasn't answered her phone in days—who knows where she's off being wild? I'll think of her as dead if she still doesn't return tomorrow!" Ravenna giggles. Mom feeds her some popcorn, and Dad discusses the movie's plot with her. The perpetrator drags me back upstairs and laughs mockingly in my ear. "Looks like I did something unnecessary. They genuinely don't care about you." Smoke permeates every corner upstairs, and the flames start to lick at my body. Mom and Dad protect Ravenna as they run downstairs. They have no idea their birth daughter is screaming in pain amid the blazing fire.

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

Three days before my wedding, I found out that Shane Dawson had changed the venue from Grandma Mae’s home in the South to Castillo de Sol, the Spanish castle that Tania Collins, his childhood sweetheart, adored. I confronted him, only to overhear him complaining to his friend, "Thank God Tania has taste. Otherwise, I’d be laughed at for life." His friend reminded him, "Didn’t you promise her you’d hold the ceremony at her grandmother’s house? Aren’t you afraid she’ll get angry and refuse to marry you?" Shane just laughed, sharp and dismissive. "The Quinns are on the verge of bankruptcy. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble. I’ve already asked the planner to call her. She’s probably scrambling to change her flight right now." Anger and humiliation burned in my chest. I bit down on my lip and, in the end, turned away. Three days later, the castle wedding went on as scheduled, but I didn’t reschedule my flight. I didn’t show up. Instead, I stood in Grandma Mae’s old courtyard and exchanged rings with another man. To this day, Shane doesn’t understand. I never married him for some so-called escape route. I married him for a love that lasted ten years. However, once the dream was over, it was time for me to choose a different path.

She did the unthinkable for love and paid for it with eight years of silence. Evelyn married Anthony knowing his heart belonged to someone else. She told herself it was enough to be near him, to be his wife in name and raise their son. Meanwhile she forgot that love without being loved back is a slow kind of poison, and Evelyn has finally run out of time to pretend. The divorce papers are signed. The chapter is closed. Anthony spent eight years blaming Evelyn for the life he never wanted. He lost Sylvia, the woman who owned every corner of his heart, because of a single night he cannot take back. Now, with the ink barely dry on their divorce, Sylvia is back in the city, and Evelyn is suddenly a stranger wearing a cold, unreadable face he has never seen before. When Anthony reaches for the past he lost, a gunshot rings out at a memorial gathering, and a secret buried eight years ago begins to claw its way to the surface. A secret so ugly such that it will force every single person in this story to question what they thought they knew. Who really destroyed this family? Who has been lying from the very beginning? And when the truth finally breaks open, will Anthony choose the woman his heart never forgot, or the woman he never truly saw? Shattered by Choice is a gripping tale of betrayal, buried love, second chances, and the dangerous cost of choosing wrong. A story about the lie we call sacrifice, the truth we call love, and the day the two collide.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.