Ninja Table Novels & Stories

"Onyx, remove your hand. If you continue to touch, you will lose." He chuckled as she exhaled "The condition was to not give in and fuck, Ophelia. I'm merely touching!" As his fingers returned to their former position, she forced herself to relax. She cursed herself in her head for setting the bar at fuck. When his fingers worked circles around her clit, she nearly died on the spot. As the moist fabric glided over her sensitive area, her release became more urgent, and she regulated her breathing as he quickened his speed. His gaze never left hers, as he watched the ecstasy wash over her face, she was growing desperate for release at this point and could just beg. "You simply have to ask, Ophelia, and I'll give you the release you want!" As her name flowed off his tongue, she shivered. "No!" Her voice was clipped, strained even. "Are you certain? Imagine how splendid it would feel when you cum all over my finger here under this table and when I fill your pussy after dinner. Raw and hard, just how you like it." Onyx Reighs is perhaps one of the finest Chief executives in town. He was respected by his subordinates and desired by females since he possessed every excellent precision a man should have as a leader. But by the end of the night, he was the most notorious player. To him, the purpose of life was to work hard and enjoy life to the fullest. No woman could ever resist his enchantments, and he hadn't expected to know the word "rejected" until she came to fly his bird. What will happened when the lady who rejected him turned out to be his soulmate?

Misty I looked at the faces of my pups on the screen, being away from them was so hard but I had to make it better. I had to provide for them. Give them the best chance I could as a single uneducated Mother. They'd had such a crap start to life, mostly my own fault because if I hadnt stayed when he continued to allow the alcohol to become him, they wouldnt have been through the hell, but then if I hadnt stayed they all wouldnt exist and i dont regret any of them, No matter how they were conceived. My Life, My Legacy, My loves. I listened to them tell me about all their adventures and the feasts they ate from banana leaves. Id put out an ad searching for somebody to take care of them while I worked, somebody to love them and assure them i wasnt abandoning them just trying to make things better. Id found those angels, theyd accepted accomodation food and utilities in exchange for making sure my pups were fed, clean and cared for. I thanked the driver for the ride and entered the roadhouse, passed all the food that made my stomach rumble from its 48 hour emptiness, made use of the amenities and headed out back to try and get another ride north that would hopefully take me all the way back to my pups. I took a seat at an empty table, aware of the fact i hadnt showered in 3 days, I kept my eyes down and avoided contact listening for conversation that would point me to a driver heading north. That was the beginning of the rest of my life.

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

On our son's fifth birthday, I found the texts on Stanley's phone—from his best friend's widow: [Stanley, the kid misses his dad again. When are you coming over?] [Stanley, Archie liked a set of matching family outfits. I already ordered them. Let's wear them together this weekend.] [Stanley, Archie starts school tomorrow. I put your name down under "father." Hope that's okay?] And Stanley? He was all in: [Loretta's asleep. I'll head over now.] [My size is 3XL. Don't get the wrong one.] [It's fine. You two have always been my responsibility.] I stood there, frozen. Then I called him back in from the living room, where he'd been helping Luca open gifts. He didn't deny it. Just hugged me and started rambling. "Hallie's Howard's widow. I promised I'd look out for her and Archie. I know I messed up. It won't happen again." We'd been together ten years. Luca had just turned five. Ending a marriage over a few texts felt dramatic. So I let it slide. Believed him. We even went out to celebrate Luca's birthday. Then his phone lit up on the table: [Stanley, the kid's crying for his dad before bed. I can't calm him down.] Stanley shoved his chair back and walked out—no hesitation. I looked at Luca. He was startled at the noise. And just like that, divorce didn't feel so dramatic anymore.

Sweet warning, my darling sinner… These pages are dripping with the kind of temptation that will make your thighs clench and your prayers turn filthy. Once you start reading, you won’t want absolution—you’ll beg for more sin. Reader discretion is strongly advised. In shadowed confessionals and candlelit cathedrals, forbidden desire ignites again and again… She kneels in nothing but a sheer black lace nightdress that barely hides her hardened nipples, wrists bound in leather and silver chains. “Forgive me, Father,” she whispers, voice trembling as the cold rosary beads slip between her slick folds. His deep voice answers from the darkness: “No forgiveness tonight, little lamb… only my cock teaching you how to worship.” Another night, another altar. A different priest’s strong hand slides under her nightdress, fingers circling her swollen clit while his lips brush her ear: “You came here to confess your sins… but your dripping pussy already told me everything.” And in the moonlit sacristy, she’s bent over the holy table, nightdress hiked up, collar tight, as he growls against her neck, “Every time you moan my name, another angel loses its wings… now scream for me, baby girl.” Ten scorching stories. Ten powerful priests. One deliciously wicked collection of priest-sinner BDSM romance that will leave you wet, breathless, and aching to be ruined. Leather. Chains. Rosaries used in ways God never intended. Unholy pleasure has never felt so heavenly. **Indulge. Submit. Sin.** Ready to kneel for every single story? Turn the page… and let them all ruin you.

Dash is no stranger to pain, but he learned from a young age to conceal it from the world. He grew up watching his parents fight, his mother crying herself to sleep while his father drowned himself in booze. That’s not the life he wants for himself. Dash swore off women right there and then, but growing up, his hormones played a significant part in turning him into a man-.  Dash is a single billionaire with a gigantic dark secret. He is the Underboss of the biggest Mafia in New York City. Dash likes to sleep around, and rarely sleeps with the same girl twice, but his sense of humor and his charismatic smile make every girl bow at his will until he meets the only girl who won’t look twice at him.  Grace is Dash’s polar opposite, but opposites attract and Dash can’t stop thinking about the girl he saved the night he covered his twin brother’s . The girl who was dancing on the table trying to strip her clothes, and ended up in his arms. The same girl that emptied her stomach all down his new leather jacket.  Getting to know Grace and trying to seduce her will be Dash’s biggest challenge, bigger than taking down the Italian Mob that is threatening their power in New York. How serious will Dash be about Grace when he sees a target on her back? Will he be able to put her above everything and everyone, or will go back to his old self not caring about anyone else? This is the second book of The Legacies Series. You can read this book as a stand-alone, but for better comprehension, it is advisable to read the first book of the series. “The Reaper CEO” 

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Isabella Sinclair, a thirty-two-year-old billionaire heiress, dislikes men and never intended to get married. However, her convictions were put to the test when she had a one-night stand affair with a strange guy, Liam Blackwood. ********** Liam grabbed her wrist tightly and in a swift movement, he lifted her and dropped her on the bed. He pinned her hands on the bed with one hand, while the other hand slowly caressed her lower abdomen. A sudden gasp escaped Isabella’s lips as his gentle touch landed on her lower abdomen. He leaned into her and moved his lips near her ear. She flinched in fear. ‘Are you going to bite me like I did? Don’t be petty!’ she snapped sharply as Liam’s lips grazed her earlobe, his breath fanning against her skin. He chuckled slightly at Isabella’s outburst, and in an unexpected move, he flickered his tongue into her ear. She froze! She liked it and wanted him to do it again, but instead, he whispered, ‘Young lady, have you forgotten? No contact! Why do you keep throwing yourself at me, little girl!’ “What! ‘Little girl’? How dare he!” she screamed in her head, but in reality, she liked how possessive and dominant Liam is. He freed her, releasing his tight grip on her hands and jumped off the bed. He grabbed his car keys from the bedside table and walked towards the door. “Liam! The contract! Do you want me to change it? And by the way, this is your second night here, and you haven’t given me a foot massage yet,” Isabella called out as he placed his hands on the doorknob.

"No! I will never be your mate!" Ariel screamed, swiftly raising her gun and aiming straight at the heart of Elijah Jaeger, the Werewolf King. “You’re mine, Ariel,” he murmured with a possessive voice as he pressed me into the table, I looked up at him to see him placing the tip of the gun in front of my vagina. "What?!" My pupils widened. He was going to **** me with a gun?! I was shaking all over, and I started to back away in fear. "No, please. No..." I begged, crying. *** In the year 2200, humanity exists as slaves under werewolf rule, with humans ranked even lower than omegas, subjected to severe abuse daily. Ariel lives within werewolf-controlled territory. Smart and resilient, she wakes up each day with one burning desire—to shoot a werewolf in the heart with a weapon of her own design. Her father was killed by werewolves, and her mother couldn’t bear the heartbreak, passing away suddenly. Ariel is consumed by pain, yet she steels herself to stay strong because she has a twin sister, Alice, and a friend, Ron, to protect. She’s determined to make the werewolves pay for their actions. But fate is merciless; Alice, driven by her own desires, betrays Ariel, and even Ron—her ever-loyal friend—begins to believe that Ariel’s death could be his ticket to freedom. Ariel refuses to break. Her greatest motivation for survival is to kill the Werewolf King—the one she believes responsible for her father’s murder. But destiny has a cruel twist in store: on the very day she intends to kill Elijah, she’s discovered to be his mate! As she finds allies willing to stand by her, will Ariel abandon revenge, or will she choose to forge a new path with Elijah?

As I turn to march out of the room, my feet stop and my breath hitches. "Bryanna. Why…” I whip back around and glare at them. "You aren't to use that name in public. Only when we are in private and alone.” Jacob flashes me a crooked smile. His eyes sparkle as he waves his finger around in the air. “We are alone. It is only us three in here.” He rests his arm on the table and gives me a cheesy grin, almost daring me to slap it off him. His t-shirt stretches tight against his muscular chest and accents his well-defined muscles. He has a true alpha body. The sparkle in his light brown eyes shimmers as he leans forward. In a deep, husky voice, he adds, “We know all your secrets. Plus, we can see your true self. The one nobody else can see because of the magic spell. Should I go on?” My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I stumble forward. How could he act like this? Bryanna, the heir to her pack, is forced into a contract relationship right before her eighteenth birthday which her father claims to be the best for both her and the pack. However, as she gets older, she soon realizes the contract relationship may not be the best choice for her, but it was a great choice for her father. When Bryanna and the contract are on the verge of falling apart, she faces a choice only she can make. Does she fight for the mate she can't detect at the risk of her secret coming out? Or does she sacrifice her happiness for the pack and her father's wishes while also keeping her secret buried?