Hades Rings Novels & Stories

WARNING: EXTREMELY EXPLICIT CONTENT For mature readers only. This collection will soak your panties, harden your cock, and leave you breathless. SHADES OF WETNESS Step into a world where forbidden desire burns hottest. A grieving son returns home and claims his seductive young stepmother on his father’s desk while the lawyers wait downstairs. A respected professor bends his favorite student over his marital bed and fills her with cum while his wife is away. A billionaire catches his wife riding his best friend’s cock… then joins them, turning her into their shared, dripping toy. A powerful stepdad finally snaps and fucks his teasing 19-year-old stepdaughter while her mother sleeps in the next room. A rockstar pounds his young backup singer on the tour bus as the rest of the band parties just feet away. From risky office quickies and dangerous doctor examinations, to hate-fueled step siblings fucking, secret MILF affairs, and raw public encounters that could destroy everything, these stories don’t hold back. Filthy dirty talk. Dripping creampies. Panties pushed aside. Moans barely muffled. Risk that makes you throb. No gentle romance. Just pure, nasty, addictive sin. Open the book… if you dare. But be warned, once you start, you won’t stop until every hole is filled and every page is soaked. Shades of Wetnes: Where the line between wrong and irresistible completely disappears.

Warning: This is not your regular love story. This is a collection of explicitly sinful acts. Confession, forbidden deeds, Raw, vivid. DON’T READ IN PUBLIC. Unless… you enjoy the risk of being caught. It isn’t just a book. It’s an experience that will make your body burn. Every story in this book is fast, wild, and full of heat. Bold women take what they want. Dominant men fight their urges. Every touch, every look, every whispered word will make you crave more. As you read, your heart will race. Your body will react before your mind can catch up. You’ll gasp, shiver, and ache for pleasure. Each story is written to make you move your hand as you read, to feel every word. We have it all—MF, MM, FF, MFM, FFM, MMMF, and everything in between. Every fantasy you can imagine. Every kind of desire. Every risky mix of heat. The thrill of being caught. The rush of secret wants. The pull of power and lust. It’s all here. You’ll imagine being there, feeling every touch, every kiss, every deep push. No holding back. No rules. Just raw, hot desire. Your eyes read the words. Your hand follows your body’s needs. You’ll touch yourself, tremble, and feel the heat grow. By the last page, you’ll be breathing fast, shaking, and wanting more. And the stories won’t leave your mind. They’ll stay with you, making you ache for the next word, the next touch, the next release. This isn’t just reading. It’s indulgence. One hand holds the phone. The other? That’s up to you. Are you ready to give in?

My mom is an HR professional. She uses KPI to determine my entire life. "If you get into the top ten of your grade, you'll receive a B grade as well as a bonus of 500 dollars. If you can achieve a ranking at a state-level competition, you'll receive an A grade as well as a bonus of 1,000 dollars. Of course, if you can get into a top-tier university after scoring well in your SATs, I'll give you an S+ grade as well as a year-end bonus of ten thousand dollars!" I work my ass off in my studies and manage to earn the offer letter to a top-tier university. But that's when my mom puts a contract in front of me. "Congratulations on getting hired. From today onward, your allowances will be determined by the total of your base salary, KPI, as well as your full attendance award. "Your base salary is 500 dollars. It's to make sure that you won't starve to death, at the very least. In order to help you adapt to workplace stress in advance, I'll check on your progress randomly. If you don't meet my requirements, I'll deduct your salary." When I'm down with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit, my mom deducts my full attendance award, claiming that my physical attributes aren't up to par. In order to catch up on my studies, I've completely forgotten to submit my weekly report to my mom. Because of that, she suspends my allowances. So, I have to sell my blood to a hospital behind her back just so I can survive. At the end of the school term, I show my mom my grades as well as the certificate to my scholarship, thinking that I'll be eligible for the highest KPI and the bonus. But that's when my mom tells me coldly, "The company has decided to give your S+ bonus to your younger brother as a form of investment. After all, he has more potential to achieve better results compared to you." As I gaze down at the 200-dollar consolation prize, I can't help but laugh. It turns out that I'm not even worthy of being recognized as a good employee in my mom's company.

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began calculating the costs in front of my sick bed instead. "Your hospitalization costs 300 dollars. On top of that, you have a 200-dollar medical bill to settle. All of these costs will be reflected on your wedding gifts in the future, Emily." But when I turned my head, I saw a student sitting on the bed being fed chicken noodle soup by her own mother. Said mother was so heartbroken by her daughter's illness that she kept shedding tears as well. At that moment, my outlook on the world, that I had been maintaining for 18 long years, finally crumbled into dust. It turned out that not all children needed to work hard just to feel their parents' love. After getting discharged from the hospital and returning home, I finally sobered up the moment I noticed the sneakers that my younger brother, Arnold Baird, wore that cost several thousands of dollars. Then, I tore the family portrait into pieces and didn't hesitate to fill in the university that was located the furthest from home when it was time for me to submit my post-graduation details. Ten years later, my mom calls me on the phone. She starts crying to me how Arnold has swindled her out of her pension. Apparently, he's even sold the house just so he can elope with his girlfriend. Not only is my mom alone now, but she doesn't have a place to stay as well. I just smile as I throw her a piece of rag. "You want to live with me, huh? No problem. You'll earn 50 cents for every window you wipe. You can earn your rent like this."

My father was a senior HR executive. He used KPIs to define my life. "Rank top ten in your grade, and I'll give you a B, with a bonus of 250 dollars. "Place in a state-level competition, and you'll get an A, with a bonus of 500. "If your SAT score hits Ivy-level, I'll give you an S+ and a 5,000-dollar year-end bonus." I studied as if my life depended on it, and in the end, I got the acceptance letter. My father slapped a contract down in front of me instead. "Congratulations on onboarding into the next phase. Starting today, your allowance will be structured as base salary plus performance plus attendance bonus. "Base pay is 250 dollars a month, enough to keep you from starving. "To prepare you for a high-pressure work environment, I’ll conduct random inspections. Fail, and your pay gets docked." When I ran a 104°F fever, he cut my attendance bonus, saying my physical resilience didn't meet standards. When I forgot to submit a weekly report because I was buried in schoolwork, he froze all my money. To stay alive, I went behind his back and sold blood at the hospital. At the end of the semester, I held my transcript and scholarship certificate, thinking I had finally earned the highest rating. But my father looked at me without a trace of warmth. "Your S+ bonus has been reallocated. The company decided to invest it in your brother, Harry. He has more potential." I looked at the 100-dollar "consolation prize" he handed me and laughed. So in his company, I didn't even qualify as an "outstanding employee."

My father raised me on one principle: fair exchange. If I wanted anything, I had to earn it myself. Fifty cents for washing the dishes. A dollar for mopping the floor. Five dollars for a perfect score on a test. To buy the pair of white sneakers I had been dreaming of, I spent three months collecting recyclables. In that house, I lived like a pieceworker, paid by the task. It was not until my senior year of high school that everything began to crack. I collapsed during morning study, my body worn down by years of malnutrition. The doctor said I needed better nutrition. My father stood by my hospital bed and started doing the math. "Three hundred for the hospital stay. Two hundred for medication. Chester, this all goes on your tab for the future." I turned my head and saw a boy in a school uniform in the next bed. His father was feeding him spoonfuls of chicken soup, his eyes red with worry. In that moment, the world I had known for 18 years fell apart. It turned out not every child had to earn their parents' love. After I was discharged, I went home and saw the pair of designer sneakers on my brother's feet; it was worth thousands. That was when I finally woke up. I tore up the family photo and, without hesitation, applied to the college farthest from home. Ten years later, my father called me in tears. My brother had taken all his retirement savings, sold the house, and run off with his girlfriend. He was left with nothing. No home. No one. I smiled and tossed him a rag. "Want a place to stay? Sure. It's 50 cents per window. Earn your own rent."

"We both know that this match is not our will, for that I offer you a contract." my eyes widened in surprise Henry's words, an open offer from a man she had met for the first time. What the average family couldn't do, this sort of thing happened easily with the righ folks I went over several points of the written agreement there. *Do not intervene in personal life * Maintain the confidentiality of the marriage contract agreed to by both parties *The marriage lasts at least two years, but if the separation is still difficult to implement, it can be extended until circumstances permit. I read some interesting points. Although this type of contract is not natural for a couple who is about to get married. For me, the prenup made me more prepared than having to guess what would happen later when she became part of the Marcus family. "I deliberately left the last page blank, please write your wish" Henry swung his finger lightly. Skillfully, Henry's assistant handed me a ballpoint pen. * Appreciate parents on both sides as a family *No physical contact *Stay in separate rooms *** I am someone who prefer being alone and I have never had a boyfriend and she dont care. Unfortunately, my sister who does have a boyfriend has been betrothed to a billionaire's son who she will now be forced to marry. I pitied my sister and decided to replace her... Well, Henry, the billionaire's son doesn't want to marry someone he doesn't know so he proposed a contract to me. I found that helping, huh? Two years later, we will file a divorce and that will be the end of us or so we thought.

The woman dreamed of sleeping on an incredibly soft and comfortable bed. Her skin was pampered by the smoothness of the vast expanse of fabric. Perhaps she was lying on a giant fluffy marshmallow. The pleasure made her smile, a wide grin that revealed her white teeth. Her hands moved around on the bed, enjoying the comfortable touch between her skin and the oh-so-soft fabric. When was the last time she enjoyed such a soft and comfortable bed? She wasn't sure. Maybe it was during her last business trip to London. Back then, Big Boss had rented a luxurious suite for her to stay in with his only child who couldn't be far from his daddy. The business trip felt more like taking care of a toddler. No, actually, she was taking care of two toddlers - Big Boss's favorite child and Big Boss himself, the big baby who was more troublesome than his little daughter, Nora. Hmn! The difference was that on this comfortable bed, she could get a good quality sleep. There were no interruptions from Big Boss's children, no annoying single daddy shouting.

She is human. He is an Alpha who rules by blood and claws. When fate drags a fragile human girl into a world of werewolves, rejection isn’t the worst thing she faces, survival is. Bound to an Alpha who sees her as weakness, she must endure cruelty, desire, and a bond that should never have existed. “Please, Alpha… I’m just human.” But mercy has never been an Alpha’s strength.

He rejected her. He tried to kill her. And he called their unborn child an abomination. Now, Emily Reed is under the protection of the most dangerous Alpha she's ever met-a man who doesn't play by the rules. One thing is certain: in Ethan Carter's world, fear is currency, and she just became priceless