Man On Top

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

I barely have time to react when my back collides with the cold wall of my room. Gray’s hands slams against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. his chest rises and falls. “You’re a coward,” he breathes his voice raspy. I swallow hard. “And you’re an asshole.” He smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “Maybe, but at least I don’t run from what I want.” I try to shove him away but with one hand he catches my wrists, pinning against the wall above my head. My breath hitches. His grip isn't painful, just firm and possessive. “You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs as his lips brush against my jaw causing me to tilt my head, “but then you pretend you don’t want this.” “I don’t,” I whisper and even I don’t believe myself. Gray’s lips twitch, as if he’s amused. Then before I can stop him, his lips crash against mine. I gasp and that’s all it takes for him to deepen the kiss, his free hand sliding to my waist, pulling me against him. heat pulls in my stomach and moves between my legs. I should push him. I should slap him, make him stop… But I don’t. Because the moment his tongue brushes against mine, I’m gone. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… He is my tormentor, my stepbrother, my worst nightmare. Yet somehow in the dark, when the world isn't watching, he becomes something else, something forbidden. We're never meant to fall. Never meant to crave. But here we are, heading straight for disaster.

BLURB: Avery Tyler happened to attend the wedding of her boss's daughter but was left in dismay when the groom turned out to be her boyfriend of five years, also the father of the life growing in her belly. Jeffrey Rosser, the CEO of Tech Rosser. Avery was devastated but a glimmer of hope shone on her when a phone call and a stranger, Tobias Maxwell, a billionaire CEO stepped into her life. Their paths crossed again, Avery, now the CEO of Jason’s company, held the approval of Tech Rosser company's expansion. She tried to avoid any contact with Jeffrey but their children kept entangling them together. Will Avery give their love a chance or is she bent on sticking with one person who has stolen her heart? Only a love that burns can save them. But can it? Find out in this epic tale of love, betrayal, revenge, and redemption that will have you at the edge of your seat from start to finish.

In Lunular Island where the tides rise with the moon, Crisel stands as the most feared and revered Raksha — the alpha bloodline’s protector. But Crisel carries a dangerous secret that no one suspects… she is Alrael’s luna. For fifteen years, she has lived with this secret and kept it even from Alrael himself. The former alpha, Aphael, insisted on this deception, fearing that the same betrayal which murdered Alrael’s mother and sister during the Great Extermination would happen again. Now, Crisel walks beside Alrael as he leads the moonlight wolves by day. But at night, Alrael becomes Black Justice, a vigilante who’s hunting for answers to his family’s slaughter, and Crisel fights by his side as they inch closer to uncovering the conspiracy that threatens the very essence of moonlight wolves. Yet, every moment of closeness is a reminder of what Crisel can never tell him… that she is his Luna, his mate — she can only allow her love to burn in secret. The burden of Crisel’s hidden identity even grows unbearable especially when Alrael is pressured by the village heads to marry and secure the alpha lineage. They believed that the luna is long dead and have arranged his marriage to Giana, a genius from Crescent Village. Now, the wedding day approaches and the weight of the past, the fear of betrayal, and her love for Alrael all collide in that moment. Time… is running out for Crisel. But with the vows spoken, and the preacher having said, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace", Crisel has to make a choice. Will she allow her alpha marry the wrong girl or…. will she speak now? Will she be risking everything and be rudely barging in on the alpha’s white-veil occasion?

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

The adopted younger sister claimed to be suffering from depression. To make her feel better, my parents hung me on the cliff, as if I were a kite. Servant reminded my parents that the little tree to which I was hung was fragile, leaving me in danger. My mom, Luna of the pack, replied scoffingly: "She makes Laurel sleep panic. She deserves to be treated like this. If she dies, it's her fate." My older brother, Zayn, joked by her side, saying: "It's a good chance to record how long werewolves live when they do not conduct feeding activities. We can contribute a lot to the Werewolf Council with this precious data." Even my mate, Greyson, showed an attitude of stoniness, uttering: "She is a vicious she-wolf. If she were not educated well enough before her transformation ritual, she would cause greater trouble to others." They left me alone on the cliff after saying these words. Three days later, it finally crossed their minds that I was still hanging. When they finally arrived at the cliff, they found nothing but emptiness—because I had already died long before. And when they realized the truth, they howled in agony, begging for me to come back to life. But I was long gone.

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”

What if your next filthy favorite story started with a moan… and ended with “Yes, Daddy”? Then take a deep breath… •ON MY KNEES, DADDY• is ready to leave you soaked, breathless, and aching for more. This is a raw, erotic collection of dominant men who don’t ask—they take. And their submissives? Oh, they beg. They kneel. They come apart, over and over. Inside, you'll find stories that cross every line: hotel-room threesomes, forbidden stepdaddy fantasies, one-night stands, rough office sex, taboo roleplay, and the kind of dirty stories that will have your thighs clenched and your fingers wandering. Warning: These pages drip with sin. Read in private, or get caught dripping. 18+ only.

My ex-boyfriend’s first love insisted on dragging me onto the drop tower ride, which caused me to have severe bleeding from the trauma. When it happened, he used her fear of blood as an excuse to cover her eyes and hurry away, abandoning me in a pool of blood. In that critical moment, Steven Landers, the amusement park designer, rushed me to the hospital just in time. After losing the baby, I was completely devastated. Then to my surprise, he got down on one knee at the amusement park and proposed, promising me happiness for the rest of my life. After we got married, I became pregnant again. But I accidentally stumbled across his chat with a ride maintenance worker. "Mr. Landers, your wife already lost a child because of Miss Smith. You mentioned she has difficulty getting pregnant, so why are you pulling the same trick to get her on the drop tower again?" Steven casually touched his wedding ring and replied, "She's the reason Anne can never be a mother, so I absolutely won't let Myla give birth to a child that would upset her." "But that's your child too! How can you do this?" "So what? This is what she owes Anne. The drop tower is the perfect way to make it look like an accident. Tomorrow is Myla's birthday, and I'll personally take her on the ride. If she tries to run, I need all of you to help catch her!" So that was his plan all along—to use the drop tower to cause another "accident" and make me lose my baby!