Konjiki No Wordmaster Translation

When desire knows no boundaries, every moment counts. Untamed Desire brings you a collection of provocative short stories exploring forbidden touches, secret cravings, and unexpected connections. From strangers trapped in a storm to tangled love triangles and power plays, these tales explore lust and longing in all their raw, intoxicating forms. Each chapter is a standalone story—perfect for quick, sultry reads that ignite your imagination and leave you wanting more.

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

Three years into my marriage with Shawn, I found out I was pregnant. I nervously but joyfully prepared to surprise him with the news. Yet what I received was the news of Shawn’s accidental death. Devastated by the blow, I miscarried the child and killed myself in despair. However, after death, I saw him drinking and mocking me with his rowdy friends. “Samantha is so dumb. I can’t believe she really fell for that prank. Does she really think I’d be fooled by her? I’m not an idiot like her. What, she’s pregnant? If she was going to make up something to fool me, she should have at least made it more believable.” But our child really was gone, and I had really died.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

Clara Mallon experiences a moment of intense frustration after getting stood up by her boyfriend. This frustration left her emotionally charged and seeking an escape; one that she regrets after finding out who the stranger is. How can she move on from this stranger when he’s more tied to her life than she can ever imagine??

Every time my husband, Dave Tarrett, spent the night at his ex Maggie Gorringe's place, he bought me another building. Two years into our marriage, I owned 285 commercial properties across the country. Which also meant Dave had screwed me over 285 times. After the deed to property number 286 landed in my hands, Maggie sent me another smug little video. "So what if Dave throws money at you? I'm the one who gets his body and his heart. You might be some international supermodel, but you still can't get your own husband into bed." I didn't bother arguing. Instead, I mailed her the newest Victoria's Secret set from my latest runway show. When Dave found out how "generous" I'd been, he rewarded me by taking me to some elite social event. During a party game, Maggie lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy's thigh. She grabbed a wine bottle, smashed it, and shoved the jagged edge against her neck. "Dave, I'm not letting anyone humiliate me like this!" Dave—usually cold as ice—instantly panicked. Then he turned to me. Of course he did. "It's just whipped cream," he said softly. "Do this for her. I swear I'll go home with you after." Everyone waited for me to lose it. But I stayed calm and agreed without a word. He didn't know this was the 287th time he'd hurt me. And I was done being his pet. Once I paid back the debt I owed him for saving my life, we'd be done for good.

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

Rejected by her fated Alpha on the night she was to become Luna, Saelaith Night is cast out from the only home she’s ever known. But this is no ordinary exile. Hidden within her veins flows a forgotten bloodline tied to the Moon Goddess herself; a power that could shake the foundations of the entire werewolf world. Now hunted, betrayed, and armed with ancient secrets, Saelaith must rise from the ashes as the rogue Luna; stronger, fiercer, and more determined than ever. But Alpha Vaeron Stone, the cold and ruthless leader who rejected her, is not done with her yet. Their broken bond harbors dark magic, deadly enemies, and a love neither can forget. In a world where packs vie for power, secrets breed betrayal, and the Moon’s prophecy spells doom or salvation, Saelaith faces a choice: surrender or claim the throne by any means necessary. Will she become the Luna of no one; or the goddess they all fear?

After I get reborn, I've returned to the moment my mother wants me to pick out my future mate. This time, I don't choose anyone at all. Instead, I've decided to travel to the rural mountain area as a healer. In my previous life, the Alphas of the packs based in the northern meadow and the western coast had requested to form a marriage alliance with me to my mother. Similarly, I had feelings for both of them. But while I was conflicted as to which Alpha I had to choose, I happened to stumble upon them going into their rut earlier than expected due to them being drugged. The Alphas pinned me down on the bed. That was how I ended up spending the night with them. But it was precisely that night that left me with pup. Since we had no idea whose pup I was with, my parents decided to let me take both Alphas in as my mates for the sake of my pack's reputation. But on the day our mating ceremony was set to begin, the Alphas' first love, Julia Cooper, left her pack out of anger when she found out about their mating ceremony with me. Unexpectedly, the pack that Julia had gone to was invaded by another pack. She was exiled from the pack as a Rogue, only to get tormented by other Rogues till she drew her last breath. After her death, both Alphas laced my food with wolfsbane, which led to my death. On the second before I lost my consciousness, I heard their furious voices. "You have no right to be living a good life when Julia has died a terrible death!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day both Alphas have gone into rut.

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.