My Precious Meme

My best friend, Maya, flew in from Miami for my bachelorette week. My last days of freedom. She insisted on a girls' night in to celebrate, ordering all my favorite takeout. She asked me to hold her mobile phone and wait.Then her phone lit up. A message from some guy. A shirtless pic. Text: I need you tonight. Another photo buzzed through. Sex toys. Bondage gear straight out of a movie. My face burned. My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d just stumbled into her secret life. But the next image made my blood run cold. A close-up of the man's chest. A jagged scar I knew better than my own reflection. It belonged to my fiancé, Luciano Carbone.

Seven years ago, my husband, the King of the Humans, banished me to the Everfrost Plains, where my life came to a tragic end. Seven years later, a grave illness befalls the Queen of the Humans, and blood spills endlessly from her lips. The clerics claim that I have cursed her. Only the blood taken from my heart can cure her fully. Gareth Lancaster, my former husband, comforts his new wife, the queen, and says, "You have nothing to fear. To think she's still trying to harm you, her older sister, even when she has been exiled! "I'll march to the Everfrost Plains right away and carve her heart out to use as your cure. Then, I'll have her soul sent to hell to suffer in torment for all eternity." Sword in hand, Gareth heads to the Everfrost Plains. He finds a Serpentkin, one who should've died in the Great War of the Beasts and Men seven years ago. The Serpentkin has frozen solid, standing before my grave with his hands clasped together as if in prayer. In front of my grave sits a young girl. She says, "You won't be able to take my mother's heart. She died many years ago. I stayed here to let the truth be known to all…"

I handed Marcus, my billionaire boss the wrong flash drive and now he’s seen exactly what I do on weekends to rewind — on my knees, 10 men nutting on my face, loving every second of it. He didn’t fire me. He emailed me. And made me his personal slut. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A short raw and hot erotica story

"Why pretend you don't want us when your nipples are hard?" Oliver's hands slid slowly under my skirt. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat. I grasped his hands, but his brother Owen yanked them away. "Because I hate you all! I can't help but wonder why moon goddess made you guys my mates." Their laughter filled the room as if a hilarious joke had just been told. Gradually, his fingers made their way to my pussy skin, then I caught a glimpse of the three brothers whose gaze was fixed on my exposed body. "You must keep this between us because this bond is forbidden. We will fuck you whenever we want because you belong to us" Owen declares as I looked away from them, but Orion gently turned my face towards them, their eyes filled with lusts. There are many secrets we keep for future sake, but what if there are more darker ones to discover? ---------- Miranda's life took an unexpected turn when she was betrayed and rejected by her high school boyfriend because she was a weak omega. Devastated, She also finds out her mum was getting married to a billionaire Lycan King. Accepting a new father was difficult, but that was only the beginning of her challenges. When she met the Lycan King's sons, she discovered they were her former bullies 'The Lycan Triplets' from high school, and to make matters worse, she was fated to be their mate. How will she cope with this situation? What will happen when their parents finds out that they are mates which is forbidden? Of course it has to be kept hidden but for how long? Also will the Triplets continue to bully her, or seek her forgiveness?

My husband’s childhood friend was trapped in an elevator for half an hour. In his anger, he stuffed me inside a luggage bag and locked me inside. “You’re paying double for all the suffering Grace went through.” My body was forced into a curled-up state. I had a hard time breathing. I cried as I apologized, but all I got was my husband’s cold reproach. “You’re going through the entirety of this punishment. Once you’ve learned your lesson, you’ll behave.” He then locked the luggage bag in the closet. I screamed in despair and struggled to break free. My blood seeped out of the bag and soaked the floor. Five days later, he felt sorry for me and decided to end the punishment. “Let this punishment be a warning for you. This time, I’ll let you go.” Little did he know that my body was already rotting inside the luggage bag.

Difficult to get along with the in-laws, constant arguments with the only brother-in-law, worsened by the man labeled as her husband... it's like having your head detached while your toes are being tickled, making Samanta Kiehl constantly cultivate patience. Until her sincere love is rewarded with a divorce letter. Her question always spins in her head. Is this luck or misfortune for her? But Samanta remains Samanta. She lets it all resonate in her life. She believes that payback will come. Someday, there will be a life and a new man whom she will tread with tranquility. But when? Isn't human patience supposed to have its limits?

AHEM *CLEARS THROAT* THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENTS THAT ARE VERY VIVID, IT'S NOT ALLOWED FOR ANYONE UNDER EIGHTEEN, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. There were secrets I kept from everyone else because I would be sent for counselling or even therapy if I ever told anybody about it but there was no way that I could control the burning desire I felt when I saw my step uncle. "Forbidden!" the voice in my head would warn but it doesn't stop the throbbing between my legs. I see the way he looks at me and I'm certain that he wouldn't be able to hold himself much longer, soon, we both would have to keep dirty secrets from everyone else because there is no way I would tell after he has had me tied to his bed.

On our wedding night, my husband Grayson's sister-in-law, Scarlette, stumbled drunkenly into our bridal suite and threw her arms around him, refusing to let go. "Kayla, my husband died young, and I really just want a child. Please, lend him to me for one night," she cried through her tears, shoving a toy into my hand. "I promise I'll return him tomorrow. And if you get lonely… you can use this to comfort yourself." I stood there, dumbfounded, my gaze shifting in confusion to Grayson, who was already helping Scarlette steady herself. "You're really going to sleep with her?" He avoided my eyes, his tone strangely urgent. "Don't overthink it. She's drunk and talking nonsense. I'll take her back to her room to rest." As he started to leave with her, I stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "Grayson, it's our wedding night tonight. Are you seriously going to walk out with her?" His expression darkened as he pushed me aside. "You're my wife now—try to be more sensible. Don't get jealous over something so trivial." Then, carefully, he guided her out of the room. I wanted to run after him and stop them, but when I saw the deep concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the truth finally hit me. The love this man had for me was no longer mine alone. And if that was the case, why should I cling to a marriage that had already soured? I might as well walk away with my head held high.

Because I was born under the Moon’s blessing, my body ripened earlier than any she-wolf my age. On the night of my eighteenth turning, my brother—fearing I’d be force-claimed by brutes—entrusted me to his blood-oath brother: Silas, Alpha of the Northern Peak. The first time we met, his golden eyes locked on my bared neck and never left. His fangs sank into my scent gland that very night, claiming me beneath the full moon. For four years since, I’ve been his scribe by dawn light, and his whore by moonrise. He trained my body to fit his every hunger, covering me in bite marks, yet never left the Mating Mark that would make me his true mate. Four years later, his confidante from the Central Territories returned. He tore from my heat-soaked sheets without a backward glance, racing to the moon-platform to greet her. I followed, stomach hollow, scent glands throbbing with his phantom claim. Only an hour before, his hand—scarred from my own teeth—had clamped over my mouth as he rutted me into the furs. Now, before the assembled Pack, he stroked another woman’s silver hair. “Amara, don’t show that jealous look. Have you forgotten—four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was moon-mad.” “This tantrum is unbecoming.” He was right. I had chosen this life myself. But when I finally chose to leave him, he was the first to break.

Seven years after my death, an engagement invitation from my ex-girlfriend arrives at my house. Back then, I had broken up with her in my lowest, most desperate days and married someone else. Now, she has reinvented herself as a rising powerhouse worth hundreds of billions, driven by revenge and eager to see me regret everything and beg for mercy. Unfortunately for her, I am not the one who shows up. She looks around in open contempt, convinced my absence means guilt, shame, and fear. When I finally appear, all she sees is an urn.