Hogged Books Novels & Stories

Ethan pulled the top down and sucked hard on her nipples while she fucked herself on him. The couch creaked softly with every move. Wet sounds filled the dark room — her soaked pussy sliding up and down his thick shaft. Ethan gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks. One finger teased her tight little asshole. “Next time I’m taking this too,” he whispered. “Gonna fill every hole.” Lila moaned softly and rode him harder. She was close. Her pussy squeezed him tight. Suddenly, footsteps in the hallway. Alex’s door opened. Lila froze, Ethan’s cock still buried deep inside her. Her heart hammered.

but there's another identity for me which no one knows except me. I write novels under the pen name 'phoenix' My novels are about werewolves attacking humans. Since I don't like werewolves I started writing about them in a bad way to vent out my anger on them. Recently, I've been working on a book named, 'Desire for thirst' in which werewolves attack their prey when they are in rut. My work in this genre has been gaining more exposure because I've made it very clear that I don't like werewolves. I believe people can read this as a novel but in reality the author just wants to expose their readers to the monsters they see in other worlds.

Dannie picked up another joint from her room and went to the library. Among the ancient books was one of the largest collections of werewolf history in the world. If there was anything on Balric or the black book it was there. She gathered a variety of titles that looked promising and lit the joint. Taking a hit, Dannie opened the first book. Inside was mostly what she already knew.

I also prayed earnestly that he didn’t forget me here. I spotted a bookshelf at the far end of the room and decided to look through it in hopes of finding something to read. The majority of the books were about werewolves and the pack’s history. There were also books about politics, war, and governance. I would have loved to pick up the book that contained information on all members of the Crescent Moon Pack, but I decided against it. It would seem like snooping. I finally settled on a book titled ‘The Art of War.’ Not that I was a fan of violence but I was curious to know why the author had referred to war as an art. It was such a controversial claim.

Instead, I decided to go to the library that I hadn’t been to yet. I walked in and there was no one there. So people could just go in and take a book if they wanted, but there were tables and chairs, computers and couches set up everywhere. It was actually a really big library for an army base. I started searching through the books until I finally found the ones that I was looking for. The books that had documented white wolves over history. Werewolves were notorious for keeping records and I was glad that they had these books on white wolves.

I mumbled with a full mouth. "There's extra in there. Let's keep moving." We turned the corner into another street lined with low brick buildings. One had a dusty window and a sun-faded sign that read Dog-Eared Pages. "This place is a little gem," Robbie said. "If you ever want to read up on modern stuff written for wolves from the old packs—this is where to do it. They even have books on magic you won't find in human shops." That piqued my interest immediately, but—

Rearranging the books, I found a small brown book wedged behind them, but it didn’t have a title or seem to belong to the library. While putting the library books up, I took the unmarked book and opened the cover to see if something was inside to help me figure out where the book went. The cover had nothing, so I flipped the page and saw it was a journal. The handwriting looked familiar as if I had seen it before. Flipping the pages, I skimmed the contents and saw that it discussed microchips. It was also about changed wolves. I took the book to the loft to find out if it was related to the same thing I wanted to create.

“These symbols... they’re from the Old Tongue. They speak of something sealed—something powerful.” “The Crown?” I asked, stepping closer. “Maybe,” she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But this inscription mentions a key. Whatever’s hidden here, we won’t find it without that.” Before I could respond, a faint growl echoed from the shadows. We both froze. The sound grew louder, followed by the scrape of claws against stone. My grip on my blade tightened as two pairs of glowing eyes emerged from the darkness. Rogues. Their mangy fur and emaciated frames marked them as exiles—wolves with nothing to lose.

she continued. I didn’t wait for further directions and headed that way. Sara was right. The library was crammed with books so rare that I didn’t even think they existed. I ran my fingers over them and stopped at the supernatural section. Werewolves. The variety of these books was astonishing. A Hidden History or Under the Full Moon. But the one that caught my attention was The Grim Howl.

There was a table. Books stacked on it. Not like the ones I used to see at home. These looked older. Some of them had markings on the covers I didn’t understand. I walked closer. My fingers hovered over one of them before I touched it. The cover felt rough. Worn. I opened it slowly. The pages were filled with symbols. Not letters. Not words I knew. Shapes. Lines. Things that looked like drawings but weren’t. I frowned. “What is this…?” I flipped a page.