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Alpha Kai's Son. My father's shadow still dominates the BloodCrest Pack I'm trying to lead; even becoming Alpha didn't change a damn thing. So I take my anger out on any poor bastard put in the steel ring with me. It calms me, but only for a few hours; because blood-red rage follows me everywhere I go. It follows me into the cage the night I'm pitted against an opponent half my size. An opponent with a bigger chest than your average gym buff. A woman... I think I'm doing the right thing by refusing the fight because I know this woman will meet Death at my hands. That is, until my wolf growls the word I never expected to hear in the middle of a fight. MATE. With a name as sweet as her scent and a right hook to match, I know I can't accept Cherie as my mate. Not with the beast I inherited from my tainted bloodline - a Lycan with a thirst for blood… So do I reject sweet Cherie to protect her, or do I indulge in the whims of my beast and claim her? * Cherie I didn't expect to meet my mate when I decided to step into that ring that night. But the second my wolf recognized its mate, I knew it wouldn't be over. Creed Volkov is every bit as terrifying as they say, but I won't allow myself to be bullied by another man. I've come here to win; I NEED to win in order to protect those close to me. Running away from Creed seems like the logical choice, I find myself in that ring with him again. Why can't I bring myself to say the Rejection Vow? And why am I suddenly having dreams about a red-haired woman?

"After hiding from me for three years, I've finally found you," I say to her, my eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I wasn't hiding. I was simply living my life without you," she scoffs at me, crossing her arms. "It doesn't matter anyway, because here you are now. You look beautiful." "Mr Partridge, I'd appreciate it if we kept things between us strictly professional." There she goes again, calling me by my last name, which was once her own. "We're not working right now. Let's just talk." "Mr Partridge, have a good evening." As she walks away, I'm so captivated by her confidence that I only stand in place and watch her the entire time. I see no trace of the vulnerable woman who was once my wife. Not only is she bold and beautiful, but she hates me. ~~~ Three months after her miscarriage, Layla is served divorce papers by her billionaire husband, Nathan. He wants her to leave because he's reconnected with the girl of his dreams. This leaves Layla shattered and no amount of begging can make him change his mind. Though she starts from scratch in a new town, they meet again three years later. He's now her new boss and this time, he's desperate to win her back With only a thirst for revenge in her heart and a new man in her life who's also a billionaire, is there even the slightest possibility of Nathan getting a second chance to make things right with her? Or is he too late and will live the rest of his life wishing he should've cherished her?

🔥 Dark Sex Confessions 🔥 A sinful collection of taboo, dominant, and dangerously hot stories. Warning: 18+ only. --- “Is this what you wore to distract me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers trailing up my inner thigh beneath the flimsy excuse of a skirt. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked into my office dressed like that.” I bit my lip, heart racing. “Maybe I just needed some... extra attention.” His chuckle was dark. Dangerous. Desperate. He pushed everything off his desk with one sweep, pulling me forward so my legs dangled open in front of him. “You’re about to learn your most important lesson,” he said, sinking to his knees between my thighs. “How to beg properly.” His mouth met my soaked panties, tongue pressing through the thin fabric until I gasped, arching against his face. He groaned like a man starved, ripping them aside and licking into me with a hunger that made me cry out. “God, you’re so wet for your professor,” he growled between licks. “Dripping for the man grading your papers.” My fingers tangled in his hair as he sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue lashing me like punishment and reward all at once. My thighs shook, heat building fast and deep. “Come for me, right here, right now,” he ordered. “And then I’m bending you over this desk and fucking every A+ out of that tight little body.” And I did. Exploding on his tongue, moaning his name like a filthy prayer— Knowing this was just the beginning of the most sinful semester of my life.

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

He watched her in the distance, his mind clouded over in confusion. How could he, one of the coldest Alphas in the country, have a mate?The thought of having to take care of someone for the rest of his life haunted him. He always thought he was meant to run the most powerful pack that had no weaknesses; once his wolf becomes attached to hers, nothing can tear them apart. It is known to be the cause of the deaths of many great Alphas, and yet here he stood, unable to tear his eyes away from her.Her soft, shimmering lips stood out to him from across the clearing, occasionally being grazed by her soft, silky golden hair. Her delicate fingers brushed a strand from over her crystal blue eyes as they continued to gaze over the leather-covered book resting in the center of her lap.A soft breeze flowed over her bare shoulders, sending her scent right in his direction. A shiver traveled up his spine as his eyes rolled back into his head. A low growl erupted from his chest, wondering why she was all alone in an empty clearing. She seemed like a prize he had yet to win. (Complete

Daniel Knight lives for two things — running his empire and watching Sexy Red burn up the stage. The mysterious, red-haired dancer with a body made for sin is all he wants… and all he can’t have. The last thing he expects? His mother shoving him into an arranged marriage with Kelly Thompson… the plain, boring, mole-faced “ugly duckling” he insulted without a second thought. He hates her. She hates him more. “Marry you? Not in this lifetime,” he sneers. “Right back at you,” she fires back. But when the wedding ring is on, Danny still can’t get Sexy Red out of his head... until one night, he rips off her disguise and realizes the woman he’s been craving is the wife he swore to make miserable. Now, every touch feels like a lie. Every kiss, a dare. And the man who swore to ruin her… can’t stop trying to claim her. DISCLAIMER This book is a spin-off from A Whole New World but can be read as a standalone. *If you’re already following this story under A Whole New World, you don't need to read it here again.

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

When my husband, Austin Hart, and I participated in the earthquake disaster relief, he discovered the corpse of his first love, Stacy Deleon, in the collapse zone. That night, Austin left a suicide note behind before jumping off the building with our son, Clifford Hart, in order to reunite with Stacy in the afterlife. Only then did I realize that both Austin and Clifford never cared about me, to begin with. When I was reborn, I returned to the moment when Austin first asked for a divorce. This time, I agreed to the divorce immediately. I even gave the custody of the three-year-old Clifford to Austin right away. Five years later, we meet again at an auction. Austin laces fingers with Stacy while taking Clifford's hand with the other. He mocks me, "It's only been five years, Kendra. You're really that shameless now, huh? You can't wait to latch onto me again now that you've found out I'm here!" Clifford mocks me as well. "Mom… Wait, you should be Ms. Powell to me now. You should stop pestering my dad already. My parents and I are living a very happy life right now." I just ignore them. Instead, I grab my daughter, Faye Gilmore, who has been sneaking food off the table, and steer her back to our seats. But Austin flies into a fit of rage instantly. A vein pops out of his hand, which is still laced with Stacy's fingers. "You really are shameless, Kendra Powell! We've only been separated for five years, yet you already have a daughter that old? I can't believe you're willing to resort to such despicable methods just to make me jealous! Which bastard did you have that bastard child with, huh?"

Devin King was my first—well, everything. They say you never forget your first. Whoever said that was right because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head or my heart. I foolishly thought my heart wouldn’t miss what it couldn’t see, but I was wrong because I never forgot, not for one moment. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. You’re not supposed to give your virginities to one another, either—but we did. We were kids, teenagers, full of hormones and mixed emotions, but it felt right. He was the first boy to kiss me, the first boy to touch me and taste me in a way only a lover would. “Say you want to be mine….” He whispered while I shook in his arms. And I did. And then he wrecked me. After I trusted him and gave myself to him, he disappeared, left me in my , the scent of him still lingering on my skin, the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips. He left me after the amazing night we shared after we became one another’s and disappeared without a word. Until one day ten years later he pops up like a rash as the newly appointed CEO of our firm. Was I shocked to see him standing in the office after a decade? Yes. Did I almost faint? Hell yes. My heart may have melted a little when he smiled right at me, but he wouldn’t ever know that—because I hated him. But here I am, the VP of an established publication firm standing in the CEO’s office handcuffed to the pompous face. Why are we handcuffed you ask? Well, that's a funny story...

I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to graduate top of my class, get into the best law firm, and make my brother proud. What I’m not here for? Sharing an apartment with Cade freaking West. My brother’s best friend. Tattooed, cocky, insufferable. A walking red flag on skates with a motorcycle named Roxie and a different girl in his bed every night. We don’t get along. We never have—especially not after what happened. He hates me for it. I don’t regret it. I was right. But the longer we’re forced to live under the same roof, the harder it gets to ignore the heat. The tension. The way he looks at me like he’s two seconds from ruining my entire life.