Jaw Titan Falco

"Sign the papers, Zack. Three years was the deal. I’m done being your sanctuary." Zack stared at the man who had dragged him out of the dirt and taught him how to breathe again. Nathan Durand, the crown prince of the Cocolink syndicate, stood like a monolith of ice, his silver eyes devoid of the heat that usually scorched Zack’s skin in the dark. "Is it because of her?" Zack’s voice was a jagged glass fragment. "Because Madeline is back?" "It’s because you’re a liability," Nathan snapped, his jaw tight enough to crack bone. "I need a partner who carries a blade, not a ghost who jumps at shadows." THE BLURB Broken. Sold. Silent. Zackary Moreau spent a decade rotting in a basement, a secret prisoner of a man who used his rare bloodline as a laboratory experiment. When he finally breaks free, he doesn’t find liberty—he finds Nathan Durand. The lethal heir to the Cocolink mafia empire is everything Zack should fear: possessive, violent, and cold. But Nathan offers a bargain Zack can’t refuse: three years of marriage in exchange for a name that keeps the world at bay. Saved. Owned. Obsessed. For three years, they lived a lie that felt dangerously like a life. Nathan turned the shivering boy into a man of the syndicate, protecting him with a brutality that bordered on madness. But as the contract’s end date looms, the shadows return. Rival bosses want Zack’s blood, and a woman from Nathan’s past is back to claim the throne. On the eve of their anniversary, Nathan delivers the final blow: he wants a divorce.

"Are not you going to spread these pretty legs for me like you did before on our first night?"- his dark eyes spoke as those venomous words fell from his mouth tearing my heart into million pieces, his eyes roaming on my half body ditching every shame. I still didn't make any move, only stood there like a statue, clutching my hands on cloths as if my life depend on it and indeed it was, my eyes again and again filled with tears as I blinked them away, he took his steps closer to me, " What are not my little obedient ?" he again asked , his lucid stare burning my entire being, a smirk making its way onto his lips. His eyes sparkled seeing the uneasiness in my eyes, he loves to witness of my tear, my pain as if it satisfy his inner self, he was a monster in a human form. The chill runs down in her spine, she was feeling her legs are getting weak, he held her jaw roughly with his left hand and pressed himself on her core making her scream in fear, "Ryan..Please..." I try to plead, came it out at whisper, before I can say anything he threw my body on the soft couch bouncing leaving my mind numb, as I heard him spoke "Take off your cloths before I lost my each and every sanity, and believe me if I took lead you will done with your this life." *************** Mature content ahead.

When Prince Aurelian is dragged before the Alpha King Vael, bloodied and shackled, he expects to die. Vael’s pack razed his kingdom, slaughtered his people—and now, Aurelian is nothing but a spoil of war. But fate is cruel. The gods made Aurelian his mate. Vael should kill him. Instead, he stares at the prince’s trembling lips, the delicate curve of his throat, the fire in his eyes, and all he can think about is how cruel the gods are and badly he wants to ruin him. "You hate me?” Vael murmured as he loomed over me, brushing his lips over the edge of my jaw and to the tip of my fingers too slow, too deliberate. One hand pinned my chest. The other dragged down his body until he gripped the base of his cock, still slick and half-hard, veins bulging like it hurt to hold back. “Good,” he growled. “I want you weeping when I take you—cursing me through clenched teeth while I fuck the fury out of your bones.” But Aurelian is not some broken thing to be claimed. A voice calls to him in the dark, a forgotten god whispering promises of power, revenge and freedom. All Aurelian has to do is surrender. Let it in. Let it take control. As rebellion brews and lust poisons every breath between them, Vael’s wolf wants to claim. Aurelian wants to destroy. But the bond is stronger than hate—and hunger always wins.

They couldn't be my mates. Not them. Not my stepbrothers. "Welcome to your official hell, Anna." Lorenzo's smile was cruel as he stepped closer. I stepped back — and hit a wall of solid chest. I spun around. Alexander's dark eyes met mine. His hand shot up, gripping my jaw with bruising force."Time to pay, Princess." *** Anastasia's life has been nothing but survival. An abusive father. A pack that treated her like nothing more than a servant. And just when she thought it couldn't get worse... fate delivered its cruelest blow. The Moretti brothers—her stepbrothers—returned for revenge. With vengeance in their veins and hatred in their hearts. Her father escaped but she remained trapped. Now... They had her. And they swore to make her pay for what her father had done to their family, they wanted repayment. From her. Not knowing she, too, was a victim of the same despicable man. Their only goal was to make her life a living hell. They hated her. Craved revenge. They tortured her, broke her, made her suffer every second of the day... But then came her first shift—the night that turned her life upside down all over again. Because she learned the truth. They were her mates. Alexander and Lorenzo—the very men who had sworn to destroy her—were bound to her by fate. Now trapped in a deadly game of hatred and destiny... What will happen to Anastasia? Will she survive them? Or will they succeed in destroying her—just like her father destroyed their mother?

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn. ----------------------- "Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me." "Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare. "You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?" My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes." "Say it. I want to hear every word." "I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..." He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?" The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl. "So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his cock—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he fucks my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but fuck, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and cum, red rooms equipped for flogging, bondage, edging, and total power exchange. Expect graphic, immersive scenes of throat-fucking, ass-pounding, breeding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

What do you want from me? ’ she finally managed to ask, her voice trembling. Logan’s lips curled into a dark smirk. ‘Since you were the one who took those photos that damaged my reputation,’ he said, his voice dripping with disdain, ‘it’s only fair that you face the consequences.’ Alessia’s heart beat wildly as she tried to comprehend the meaning behind Logan’s words. Before she could gather her thoughts and ask what kind of punishment he had in mind, Logan’s hand clamped down on her jaw, holding her firmly in place. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath caught in her throat. In an instant, Logan lowered his head, capturing her lips with his own in a possessive and demanding kiss. *************** After a fateful night, Alessia awakens to the realisation that she has given her virginity to a stranger. With only a note and a bundle of money as clues, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery and motherhood. Years later, Alessia finds herself navigating the cutthroat world of paparazzi reporting while raising her genius son, Milo. Her quest for a scandalous scoop leads her to the enigmatic billionaire CEO, Logan Wilde, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to her son. As she dives deeper into Logan’s world, she can’t deny the magnetic attraction between them. Logan, suffering from a haunting secret, feels the same way. Determined to know her, he makes an unexpected proposition...

He was supposed to be a stranger. A bruised, scarred, filthy-mouthed stranger who pinned me against a bathroom wall and made me forget the boy who broke my heart 20 minutes earlier. I walked away first without his name or number, and I didn't look back. Then I found out my mom was engaged. To his dad. Rhys Maddox. Number seventeen. 6'3" of tattoos, bruised knuckles, and the kind of jaw that makes good girls do stupid things. The most dangerous player to ever step on our ice. My one-night stand. My new stepbrother. He doesn't follow rules - he breaks them. On the ice. In my bed. Against every surface in our parents' house while they eat twenty feet away. He calls me "sis" just to watch me squirm. He watches me like he already owns me. And the worst part? He does. Publicly, we're fake dating - a deal to keep my ex-bestfriend away. Privately, we're a stepbrother and stepsister who can't keep our clothes on the second we're alone. It's our biggest secret. Now the boy who I once considered my best friend suddenly wants me back. And the stepbrother who wasn't supposed to mean anything won't let me go. One wants to protect me. One wants to destroy me. And I can't tell which is which anymore. --- For readers 18+ who like their men possessive, their romances FORBIDDEN, and their chapters dripping with filthy, unapologetic spice.

Her back hit the cold wall before she could even breathe. Damian’s hand slid to her jaw, tilting her face up to his. His voice was a low, trembling threat. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me, Aria?” Her heartbeat stuttered. “You’re my sister’s husband…” “Exactly,” he whispered. “That’s why I shouldn’t want you.” He leaned closer, his breath brushing her lips. “But wanting you is all I’ve done… every damn day.” *** Aria Hale has spent her life unseen, ignored by her father, used by her sister, and taught that her feelings don’t matter. But everything changes the day she moves into her sister’s penthouse… the same home ruled by Damian Cross. Thirty-six. Billionaire. Cold. Married to her sister. And quietly, obsessively fixated on Aria. He watches her too long. Stands too close. Speaks too softly for a man with no heart. He looks at her like she’s the only warmth in his frozen world. Aria tries to avoid him. Tries to reject him. Tries to pretend she doesn’t feel the air tighten when he enters a room. But Damian does not let go. He corners. He interferes. He destroys anything that dares approach her. Because wrong or not, forbidden or not— he has already decided she belongs to him. And when the truth behind his obsession finally comes to light… Aria will learn that some desires, once awakened, are impossible to escape.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.