Novel & Cerita Liv Mckenzie Scream

“DON’T LET ANOTHER MAN TOUCH YOU UNTIL I RETURN. YOU ARE MINE." 358 days. That’s how long I have to obey my husband’s one rule. That’s how long until the ruthless Supreme Alpha—the man who left me untouched on our wedding night returns to claim what’s his: my body, my soul, my everything. 358 days should’ve been easy. Then his sons came home. Kade, the charming leader. Keziah, the quiet storm. Thorne, the dangerous rebel. Three alpha triplets who look at me like I already belong to them. Three stepsons who make my wolf scream “MATE” every time they get close. Three devils who’ve made a game of breaking me before day zero. Every touch is a test. Every whispered promise is a trap. And with each day I cross off the calendar, the line between loyalty and desire blurs. Day 1: They watched me. Day 30: They touched me. Day 100: I stopped saying no. My husband left me a virgin omega aching for something I’ve never had. His sons are determined to give me everything he didn’t. And with each passing day, I’m less sure I’ll make it to the end without breaking his one rule completely. 358 days to stay faithful. Three alphas determined to make me theirs. The countdown has started. And I’m already falling.

WARNING; This story contains mature contents not suitable for readers under 18 and may be triggering to others. Dark themes like BDSM, dub con, drug abuse and human trafficking and others are mentioned. It has a happy ending, but the journey will not be a pretty fairytale that's why it's dark romance. If you choose to read further, please don't complain and I hope you enjoy my story. Thank youuu!!! * All she wants is a better life, but she keeps going from frying pan to fire. From an abusive father, to a human trafficking syndicate just to find her lost sister. A man whose name was whispered in fear among the most feared becomes her saviour. Their only history was a night of no holds barred pleasure after she was rescued by him in a dirty alley on a cold November night. He says he’s not a hero, and everyone calls him dangerous. But he was the only safety she had ever known. ~ "I want you on my bed at all times, always ready for pleasure. I want you to only think about how good I make you feel, and I want you to scream my name so loudly you’ll lose your voice. That’s what makes me a villain. I want everyone to hear and know that you’re mine, only mine. I am not a hero, and you don’t need a hero. A hero would sacrifice you for the greater good, I would burn the world for you. All you need to do is ask.”

"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.

⚠️ WARNING: 18+ ONLY. Extremely Explicit. Dark Themes. This is not a "sweet" romance. _____ "Call my name, Ariana" Mateo’s breath was a scorching sin against her ear, his hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back to expose the pale, trembling line of her throat. He didn't wait for her answer. He bit—a sharp, possessive claim that made her arch against him, her fingers digging into his expensive suit. "M-Mateo," she brokenly whispered, her dignity dissolving in the dark of his library. "Again. Tell me who owns you." ___ Ariana Cole came to Madrid to be a nurse. She came to save lives and build a future. But the moment she collided with Dr. Mateo López, she realized she wasn't there to save anyone—she was there to be consumed. He is the "Ice Surgeon." Twenty years her senior. Her boss. And her best friend’s father. He is a monster in a white coat who doesn't believe in "no." He doesn't want her heart; he wants her submission. He wants to hear her scream his name while his daughter sleeps just down the hall. This is a hostile dance of power, denial, and filthy, intoxicating lust. Every sterile hospital hallway is a hunting ground. Every midnight encounter in his mansion is a lesson in how much she’s willing to lose. Her career? Her best friend? Her sanity? Mateo is going to take it all. And Ariana? She’s going to beg him for more.

I glared when his hand reached again to my neck. Our faces only an inch apart. His big hand was almost wrapping it whole. His thumb massaging my throat like a feather. "And when I thrust inside of you, I want to hear you scream my name. Every name of mine." "Dante. Adriano. Sol. Di. Angelo." His thumb stroking the center of my neck while uttering every name he owned. His eyes hooded in heat, lust clouding the windows of his soul. "And when you cum, it'll be Dante you moan." --- Hailynn Fleury is a talented painter. Growing up as an orphan, she and her best friend Ethan, always wanted to get back to the people that helped and cared for them. When one of her friends convinced her to auction her paintings at one of her charity events, it didn't take much persuasion knowing the money would go to the orphanage. On the night of the auction, her future took another turn when she saw a handsome man holding a gun. Later finding out that he was a mafia boss with an intention of keeping her from thereon. Witnessing him pulling a trigger to someone would have been the mafia boss' wisest decision to never let her go. Except that he couldn't touch the girl knowing the promise he had with his cousin. Dreams of bedding the girl is no longer an option. But how will he treat his ragazza, really? Find out how both of their lives took a turn- with the aspiring artist and the Italian mafia boss.

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS Palermo does not forgive. Neither does it forget. When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm—but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city. Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named. The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings. The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother’s resolve. But whispers spread faster than steel through the night—rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart: Guerrero Valenti. The father who abandoned him. The legend whose name alone commands obedience. The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire. And when he comes, Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall. Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood. This is the story of survival. Of fire and steel. Of a mother and her son. Of a father’s return. Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood … the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a “BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI. And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .

I've been married to the prince of the underworld for ten years and have endured countless life-or-death situations by his side. My hands, once trained to play the piano, are covered in calluses from holding guns and stained with blood. But at 28, my husband ends up falling for a young woman from the slums. She's as delicate and pure as a chamomile. She's his well-kept little secret—until I run into them at the woman's prenatal appointment one day. I storm up to him, demanding an explanation, only for him to nonchalantly hand me divorce papers. "Sonia is a devout follower of the church and can't have a child before marriage. I must make an honest woman out of her. Sign these, and you'll get 40% of the company's shares." I refuse to do as told, so he corners me. In the end, he has my crippled younger brother tied up and forced under a hydraulic compression machine. "Sign the papers, Maeve, or watch your brother become a human mince pie. The choice is yours." I fall on my knees and beg him to stop. As the machine turns on, my hands fly to my aching lower belly, and I scream as I lose consciousness. When I wake up again, I'm back in the hospital, in the same spot where I ran into my husband and his mistress at her prenatal appointment. This time, I don't confront him. Overnight, I make arrangements with a sanatorium abroad, get divorced, and run away from home. Yet the moment I truly disappear, my husband loses his mind.

Lucia had never believed in rebirth. She had read about it a few times in books tucked away on her shelf, but she never imagined it could be real. Yet, here she was—reborn. This time, she swore she wouldn’t let kindness be her downfall. She would make them pay. Her so-called best friend and husband had used her, drained her of everything, and left her with nothing. They manipulated her, deceived her, and when they had no more use for her, they poisoned her—leaving her to suffer in agony for over a year. What a vile couple. On the night of her death—her own birthday—they stood before her, laughing as they confessed their betrayal. They had taken everything from her, and now, they wanted her to know the full extent of their cruelty. Her husband and best friend, her supposed confidants, had been lovers all along. Worse, they had killed her true mate. Lucia had wept until there were no more tears left to shed. Too weak to fight, too broken to scream, she watched as they reveled in their wickedness, even making out right in front of her as she lay dying. That night, amidst a raging storm, Lucia took her last breath. But when she opened her eyes again, morning light streamed through the window. "Is this heaven?" she whispered, confused. A familiar voice answered. "Lucia, you’re awake! Let me get the doctor!" Brittany exclaimed before rushing out of the room. In that instant, Lucia knew the truth. She had been reborn. And this time, she would make them pay—for everything they did to her and her family.

Sweet warning, my darling sinner… These pages are dripping with the kind of temptation that will make your thighs clench and your prayers turn filthy. Once you start reading, you won’t want absolution—you’ll beg for more sin. Reader discretion is strongly advised. In shadowed confessionals and candlelit cathedrals, forbidden desire ignites again and again… She kneels in nothing but a sheer black lace nightdress that barely hides her hardened nipples, wrists bound in leather and silver chains. “Forgive me, Father,” she whispers, voice trembling as the cold rosary beads slip between her slick folds. His deep voice answers from the darkness: “No forgiveness tonight, little lamb… only my cock teaching you how to worship.” Another night, another altar. A different priest’s strong hand slides under her nightdress, fingers circling her swollen clit while his lips brush her ear: “You came here to confess your sins… but your dripping pussy already told me everything.” And in the moonlit sacristy, she’s bent over the holy table, nightdress hiked up, collar tight, as he growls against her neck, “Every time you moan my name, another angel loses its wings… now scream for me, baby girl.” Ten scorching stories. Ten powerful priests. One deliciously wicked collection of priest-sinner BDSM romance that will leave you wet, breathless, and aching to be ruined. Leather. Chains. Rosaries used in ways God never intended. Unholy pleasure has never felt so heavenly. **Indulge. Submit. Sin.** Ready to kneel for every single story? Turn the page… and let them all ruin you.