Miguel O'hara Teeth

His iron grip fastened around her waist with every second she tried to push him off. "Let go of me," she gritted. "Why should I let go?" He asked devilishly. Nibbling her earlobe "Have you forgotten you're my mate." "It's about time everyone knew you're mine." He teased with his now exposed teeth gently nibbling her skin. "Mine." She heard him growled out before his sharp canines bit into the crook of her neck... In no time she felt a strange heat dripping down her neck, it was blood gushing out from his bite. "Oh, My God! I can't believe Edward just marked me." She pondered.

Manuel, a tactical billionaire with an ugly past now known as Donald along side his brother Miguel, a ruthless member of a mafia group now known as Mike are out to seek revenge on Mr Delmont the man who took the lives of their parents when they were just boys. Everything seems to be going according to plan until Donald meets a captivating woman, Rebecca at the bar. Rebecca is gentle, kind, and everything he never knew he needed. But she’s hiding something. Everyone is. She seems to have a normal life with a hunting past of an abusive father and a mother she loves so dearly. She seems like an open book. Donald falls in love too quickly. In their quest for revenge, something is not adding up. There is a rat amongst them and it could be the calmest person in the room. In a world driven by secrets, lies and betrayal. Would Rebecca choose loyalty to her bloodline or the man she has grown to love deeply.

Most women fall for rich businessmen, dashing doctors, or genius lawyers… but me? I fell hard for my bodyguard. *** Caroline thought it was just a one-night stand—a reckless escape from an arranged marriage to the cold and powerful Alexander. She’d rather give herself to a stranger than tie her life to that man. But what if that stranger… was Miguel—the quiet yet dangerously alluring bodyguard of her family? She thought it ended that night. But fate had other plans. As sparks turned into something deeper, Caroline finds herself falling for the one man she’s not supposed to love. In a world where name, wealth, and status define one’s worth, what happens when her heart chooses someone from a different world? Will she defy her family’s expectations and fight for a love that’s as dangerous as it is forbidden? Or will she walk away from the man who made her feel alive—just to keep everyone else happy?

[MATURE CONTENT: DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE] A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," He tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.

Panting harshly he grabbed your jaw while your chest got heavy, having tears in your eyes you feared this man to the core. You felt your knees weak whenever he was around you! "Brother-in-law, you are hurting me!" You spelled trying to shake his touch away while he gritted his teeth at your stubborn traits. "I am done waiting for my brother to throw you away to get you, seems like that bastard won't do shit so I have to snatch you away from him!" He spoke grabbing her wrist earning a hiss from her mouth. Her eyes were still teary made his heart burn. "You are mine more than him!"

A fresh out college mess decided to have a few harmless drinks before going to see her father. Well, a very irresistible stranger wasn't so harmless so why not risk it. Little did she know that he was someone close to her father. Her father's best friend. *********** “Tell me what you want,” he demanded. “You,” I gasped. “Harder. Please.” He gave it to me. Relentless. Possessive. One hand pinned my wrists above my head; the other gripped my hip, angling me exactly how he wanted. “You’re mine tonight,” he said against my throat, teeth grazing skin. “Say it.” “I’m yours,” I breathed, lost in him.

Raw and Ruined: Short Erotic Sins Step into a world where desire doesn’t ask permission and shame is just foreplay. Several merciless, sweat-slick stories that don’t seduce—they take. No slow burns. No sweet nothings. Just skin slapping skin, nails carving lines down backs, mouths full, thighs trembling, and the kind of orgasms that make your vision white out and your voice break. These stories are greedy. They bruise. They stain sheets and memories. They leave teeth marks and handprints and the delicious ache of being used exactly the way you secretly always wanted. These are not love stories. These are lust stories. Short. Sharp. Unapologetic. And they will leave you throbbing, aching, and reaching for someone—or something—to ruin you next. Raw and Ruined: Short Erotic Sins Because sometimes the dirtiest thing you can do… is let yourself be devoured.

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

He slammed her back against the closed door making her grit her teeth as she glared at him. “Camellia,” his voice was dripping with controlled fury yet that endearment rolled off his tongue in a raspy growl. “I don’t like other men touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing her jaw, his fingers firmly pressing into her cheeks as he made her hazel eyes look into his dark greys. “I’m not yours,” she said with gathered-up bravado though his intimidating presence made her feel so timid. He leaned closer as her eyes fell on the camellia flower that was inked on his neck. His hot breath tickled her lips as his intense stare lingered on her lips. “You’re mine, Camellia. Mine!” With a low growl, he crashed his lips on hers. DARK ROMANCE!

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.