Muscle Futa

"You shouldn't be touching me." he growled, his voice low and ragged, every muscle beneath her nimble fingers felt the tremors of restrained power. The heat of his skin radiated through her gloves. "If I stop, you'll bleed out." His hand shot up, curling gently-but firmly around her wrist. His eyes, a shade of hellish red in the dim lights, locked onto hers. "No, doctor," he whispered, his lips forming a stern pressed line. "If you stop, it won't be the blood that kills me. It'll be the hunger." Dr. Eleanor Airlea never believed in myths-until the night a wounded stranger staggered into her veterinary clinic under a blood-red moon. The wolfs injuries should have killed him, but his body healed with a feral strength she couldn't explain. His piercing eyes, wild and magnetic, left her both terrified and captivated. Raphael is no ordinary man-he's a werewolf, royalty no less with a bloodline that binds him to the violent laws of his pack and the forbidden desire that burns whenever Eleanor is near. In a world where hunters stalk the night and betrayal lurks under every silver light, their passion becomes as dangerous as it is irresistible. She's the healer who should fear him. He's the predator who has set his eyes upon her. And when blood and desire mix under the next full moon, neither of them will be able to resist the pull of destiny. "I don't care what you are," she said, her pulse racing as she held his gaze. "You were bleeding. You needed me." His lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Careful, doctor. Saving a wolf can make you his."

I thought Christmas had already broken me. Betrayal, loss, and a miscarriage that shattered everything I’d built. So I did the only reckless thing a heart in ruins could do: closed my eyes, jabbed a finger at a map, and bought a ticket to wherever it landed. No plan. No hope. Just a wounded heart running from the wreckage. I wanted quiet. Snow. A place to breathe and heal. I found him instead. A man who feels too wild for this world, all heat and muscle and dark, hungry eyes. He kisses like he’s claiming something. Touches like he’s learning every secret my body holds. His strength borders on impossible. His presence, addictive. He calls me his naughty little Christmas gift. And every time he drags his mouth down my throat, I forget every reason I had to stay guarded. But the deeper I fall, the stranger things become. The room around him feels alive. The night listens when he speaks. His eyes flash with an animal glow that shouldn’t exist, and the sound he makes when he’s holding back, low, guttural, trembling the air between us doesn’t belong to any man. I should run. Ask questions. Save myself. But I’m far too gone. Even willing to be ruined by whatever he is. So I ignore the question whether I’m losing my mind, or whether the fear curling beneath the heat is real. And let him keep unwrapping me like the gift he thinks I am. Because whatever lives inside him…it’s the first thing that’s made me feel alive again.

“I want you to ruin me. To fuck me like nothing else matters.” Zoriana’s breath hitched, the air in her lungs turning to ice as she stared into the darkened eyes of the man pinning her against the warehouse door. Outside, the pack’s founding day celebration was a blur of music and laughter, but in the shadows, there was only the scent of rain and the dangerous heat radiating off Alpha Tristan. “You’re mated to my brother, Zoriana,” he growled, his voice a dark, jagged rasp against her ear. His mouth brushed her pulse point, sending a shiver of pure, traitorous electricity through her blood. “Do you have any idea what I’ll do to you if I stop being a gentleman?” Zoriana didn't care about the crown. She didn't care about the Royal bond or the destiny written in the stars. She arched her back, her nails grazing the hard muscle of his shoulders as she pulled him closer. “Then stop being a gentleman, Tristan. Show me the monster everyone says you are.” *** Zoriana’s world shattered overnight when her mate’s betrayal turned her from a beloved Luna into a rogue. But she did not break. Rising from the ashes, Zoriana founded her own pack and built an empire that shook the very foundations of the shifter kingdoms. The higher she rises, the deeper she is trapped in a web of deadly intrigues and twisted truths. Zoriana is caught between the Royal Alpha she is sworn to support and his ruthless brother—a devilish enemy who ignites a forbidden, soul-searing desire she cannot control. In a world of poisoned blood and lethal lies, Zoriana must choose: the crown she fought for, or the man who could be her undoing? Rating: 18+ | Content Warning: Explicit Language, Graphic Violence, and Mature Sexual Themes.

"I love it when you say my name, printsessa, how long has it been? Two-" "Three years." I snap unintentionally wishing I could take the words back. A sly grinspreads across his angelic-looking face, "You've been counting." He states in a cocky tone. I place my hands flat on his chest, and I shove him away. "Still a cocky son of a bitch I see." I hiss, hating the way he makes my body burn with fever. Slowly panting through my parted lips, I realise that he is shirtless, his gold skin and sinuous muscle put on full display for my eyes to feast upon. His eyes look darker than I remember, smouldering with carnal intent. The perfect curve of his lips etches with cruelty. He's so hot with lust and anger that it should be a crime. He's sin in human form and he makes me want to be a sinner. "And you're still a stuck-up printsessa holding a grudge." He snarls, throwing his hands in the air --- Today was meant to be one of the happiest days of my life. Today, I was turning twenty-one and everyone whom I love dearly has shown up to celebrate it with me. Including the one man in my life who should be off-limits; forbidden. Things quickly turn sour, the air smells of death, gun powder, and vengeance. CAUSING my heart to still with fear, loss, and panic. When I realise the one man I vowed to hate forever, is the one person I can rely on to keep me safe. I must build a wall around my heart, and pray like fuck, that he doesn't break through it. My name is Zeynep Volkov, and this is my story about survival, deception and a love triangle that no one saw coming.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage. She paid my tuition with his father’s money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I’ll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose. Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me. So I moved into the Hunters’ mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell. Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more. I thought graduation meant freedom from him. I was wrong. Now he’s my stepbrother. He hates that I’m here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me. But hate isn’t clean anymore. It’s tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me, the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I’m shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more. He calls me Little Lamb, I call him every name I can think of under my breath. How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?

After a brutal breakup and one too many whiskies, Arielle Lawson makes the mistake she swore she’d never repeat—she calls her ex. She never saved his number; she memorized it. Heart memory. Muscle memory. Bad-decision memory. But the man who answers isn’t Daniel. He’s calm. Controlled. Amused by the drunken stranger ranting about betrayal, wasted years, and ruined wedding plans. Arielle hangs up, mortified, convinced the mistake ends there. It doesn’t. Because the number she dialed belongs to Kael Virelli, the elusive leader of a multi-million-dollar anti-government underground syndicate known as The Black Ledger—a man feared by politicians, hunted by intelligence agencies, and obeyed without question. Kael should forget the call. He should erase the number. Instead, he calls back. What begins as anonymous late-night conversations becomes a dangerous ritual neither of them can break. Arielle finds comfort in the mysterious stranger who listens without judgment and understands her in ways no one ever has. Kael becomes addicted to the only person who speaks to him like he’s human—not a weapon, not a myth. Then fate intervenes. When Arielle unknowingly witnesses a violent operation tied to The Black Ledger, the voice she trusts becomes the name everyone fears. Overnight, she transforms from a stranger into a liability—a loose end that Kael’s world would normally erase without hesitation. But Arielle isn’t just anyone. She’s the woman who called him at his most human… and made him answer. Now Kael must choose between protecting the empire he built in shadows or protecting the girl who accidentally dialed her way into his life. Because in a world of secrets, betrayal, and blood money, the most dangerous mistake he ever made wasn’t answering the call. It was falling for the girl who made it.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT:Strictly 18+ “I can’t…..take it….any…more.mm..you...I.!” She cried out loudly, but not of pain more like an unbearable pleasure, at the same instance, Andre claimed her lips fully into his, going harder and harder. His plan? To make her completely his and to drive crazy as she did to him, it was a sweet revenge that Andre could definitely die for, wave after wave, after wave of undulating pleasure continued to rage and roil through her body but Andre didn’t stop, his fingers continue to graze her sweet spot with every creamy thrust, until she crashed against him with a shuddering release, her teeth biting softly on his ear robe, her soft quivering sounds filling his ear. Gently he rested her back on the car seat, as though it wasn’t enough for him, he opened the door and walked over to the other side and opened Arianna's door. Standing two feet from her, he pulled off his t-shirt out from his head, Arianna was out of breathe watching him, her olive face turned pink with hot pleasure, her legs still widely apart the way he had left it. She noticed a new tattoo on his chest as the lightening shine like a divine touch on his beautiful wet body contouring the abs and every muscle in his torso and slowly her eyes went lower, his wet pant made his arousal obvious, his erection so big and huge that it gave her chills, and her throat sudden dryness. What's worse than realizing that your sweet anonymous lover from a secret dating site,whom you fall Inlove with is actually your spoilt, arrogant,self centered and sadist CEO! Whom you hated so much. But can she be able to tame this monster?

"You're either brave," Aaron said quietly, his accent thickening just enough when he was irritated, "or you have no sense of self-preservation." I didn't look away. His dark eyes burned - calculating, controlled, dangerous. The kind of Alpha who didn't need to raise his voice to be obeyed. The kind who was born into power and sharpened by it. "Maybe I just don't scare easily," I said smugly. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Slow. Controlled. He stepped into my space, close enough that the air shifted, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him and smell the faint scent of coffee on his breath. "You should," he murmured, eyes focused on my lips. ⸻⸻⸻ Xavier has one rule: survive. After being betrayed and left for dead by his own pack, he doesn't trust Alphas. He doesn't trust loyalty. And he sure as fuck doesn't trust powerful families who smile too easily. Aaron D'Amico is everything Xavier avoids - a strategic, dangerously composed Alpha raised in legacy and control. His pack is strong. His leadership is unquestioned. And his mother's influence runs deeper than anyone realizes, even him. He doesn't make reckless decisions. He doesn't let emotions interfere. And he doesn't lose control. Until Xavier. What starts as irritation turns into a battle of dominance neither of them expected. But beneath the tension simmers something more dangerous - quiet political maneuvering, shifting loyalties, and a matriarch who watches every move. Because in this pack, power isn't taken with claws. It's taken with strategy. And the Alpha who prides himself on discipline? He's about to meet the one wolf who refuses to behave. WARNING ‼️‼️‼️ CONTAINS MATURE AND SEXUAL THEMES