Hand Knuckles Weapon

Agatha Simon, a lady with a heavy burden on her shoulders, made a life-altering decision by signing a contract that would change her fate forever. Her father's debt had become an insurmountable obstacle, and in order to pay it off, she agreed to become a slave. However, this agreement came with a catch - the only way to break free from her enslavement was to seduce the one and only billionaire, Lanceil Grim. As she embarked on her mission, Agatha found herself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she was determined to succeed and gain her freedom. On the other hand, she couldn't help but feel drawn to Lanceil's charm and charisma. As their relationship deepened, Agatha found herself struggling to balance her desire for him with her need for independence. Could she really pull off such a daring feat and escape the clutches of her contract if love and lust interfered? The stakes were high, and failure was not an option.

His hand slipped beneath my dress, fingers teasing, testing. My breath stuttered as he dragged his lips over my throat, his voice a rough whisper against my skin. “You’re soaked for me,” Hades murmured, his other hand tightening around my waist. “I could take you right here, make you forget everything but my name.” I clenched my thighs around him, desperate for relief. “You already do.” His low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Then let me remind you.” — The Lycan King is cruel, dangerous, and utterly captivating. But to Davina, he is also temptation incarnate—the one man who can unravel her with a touch. As war looms and enemies close in, their passion becomes both their greatest strength and their deepest weakness. Because in a world where power is everything, loving him might just be her downfall.

I was a retired mercenary. A middle-aged man like me, without any ‘proper’ skills, could only work as a stockkeeper at a private company. On my first day at work, the warehouse lost an important item, and I was accused of stealing it. My new colleagues scoffed. "Hand over what you stole, you penniless loser! This warehouse hasn't lost anything for eight years. If you hand over the stolen item, we'll submit an appeal letter on your behalf when you get arrested by the police." I stepped forward to look at a mark left behind in the corner. "I can find what was stolen." The entire warehouse fell silent. When my boss arrived after hearing the news, he scrutinized me condescendingly. "If you can find the stolen item, I'll give you half of the company shares. If you fail, you'll have to pay with your life!"

Ten years ago, he was forced to escape from a rich and powerful family. From then on, he drifted away like an ant, and everyone could bully him. Until that day, he dialed the familiar yet strange number. If you hold my hand, I will make you proud...

His dick continued pounding into her. He had gone harder, stretching her even more. She couldn't help but moan. This sound had him losing his mind. He went even faster, his finger stuck in her hair. "Fuck!" He cursed as his breathing turned rapid. His hand went down to spread her legs apart as she tried closing them, not being to take all he was giving her. "Don't close them!" He said between grunts. His hand went to play with her clit. It had turned swollen. With each thrust, his hand went in a circle on her. His rough fingers were soft on her, going soft but at the same time, hard. He knew his techniques. Her legs began shaking more as she was on edge. She was ready to cum. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began to drool slightly. His thrust remained in pace soon her walls began to tighten. She was near. " Oh yes!" She screamed as she came hard on his dick. She tried catching her breath, short of air from their sex. Quickly, he rolled over and she ended up on top. His dick was still inside her, hard and twisting. That was when it hit her, he hadn't had his release but she still asked. "What are you doing?" "We aren't done yet. You are going to ride me, hard and fast."

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

On the day of the mating ceremony, a crazed witch bursts in and points straight at me, shrieking, "Six years later, your Alpha will betray you!" Troy Hudson, my soon-to-be mate, turns livid. He swats the purple-glowing crystal ball from her hand, shattering it on the floor. "Nonsense! Estelle is my fated mate! I'll only ever love her in this lifetime!" After that, he becomes even more devoted to me. At the Moon Goddess' altar, he drapes the Luna shawl over my shoulders. He marks me with his scent so the entire pack knows I belong to him. Every full moon, he deepens the mark on my neck, whispering that I am his forever. I believe his love is unbreakable until our sixth anniversary. A box waits at our front door. Inside lies a pair of lace panties and a photograph. In the photo, Troy is pressed over his foster sister, Rue Youngblood, the wolf tattoo on his body glowing faintly. His hand grips her waist, his eyes burning with the same heat I've dreamed of a million times. And Rue? She's wearing that same pair of panties. On the back of the photo, written in ink as red as blood, is a line of pure provocation. "The Alpha's heart may belong to you, but his body belongs to me." Agony ripped through my chest, yet not a single tear fell. Instead, I rest my hand on my belly and quietly send word to the Witch Association. "I accept your invitation. Please help me vanish."

“I don't know anything. P-please...let me go.” She pleaded with her eyes half closed as her lips trembled due to his close proximity. She could feel his warm breaths on her face. She whimpered feeling a hand grip on her hair yanking her face up. Her entire body was sore and shaking from all the torture she had endured from this man. “Angel,...” Sylvester whispered in her ear. “Are you telling me the truth?” Lucia could feel the coldness of the mouth of the gun plastered to her temple and she broke into more sobs looking up to meet his dark eyes. “I swear...I-I don't know anything a-about Lily...she...” Her voice ceased when she felt his hand at her chin. “I believe you angel. But it seems that bitch has left us something behind to take with us as compensation.”

[TRIGGER WARNING: Reader's Discretion Is Advised. This book contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, dark romantic elements, and strong language. It is intended for adult audiences(18+). Proceed with caution.] He placed a hand on my leg, and my breath caught. His hand slowly began stroking my thigh, sending a strange wave of sensation through my body. My fingers tightened against my dress as my pulse quickened. His hand moved slowly higher, sliding deeper into my thigh. My body stiffened as his fingers brushed against my panties. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. Is Master doing what I think he’s going to do? I thought, panic slowly rising inside me. He leaned slightly closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Try not to moan,” he whispered, my breath hitched. I tried my best to stay still, forcing myself to keep my expression calm as the men around the table continued their conversation. But under the table, his fingers kept teasing the fabric of my panties. My breathing grew uneven, then his fingers suddenly slipped inside. A small cough escaped my lips as my body jerked slightly from the sudden sensation. Several heads turned toward me. “Are you okay, Mrs. Enzo?” one of them asked with concern. My face burned with embarrassment. “Is something wrong? Did you choke on the food?” another man asked. “I think she choked on the food,” Enzo said calmly as he looked at me, his eyes held a warning.

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.