Oliver Wood Quidditch Novels & Stories

Before it's our turn to get our marriage registered, I beam brightly as I scoot closer to Charles Scott for our commemorative photo-taking session. But he suddenly darts away from me for no reason. "I saw you when your team was in action yesterday." I freeze momentarily. "How is that even possible? This week is filled with secretive prostitution-busting campaigns…" Charles nods lightly. "When you led your team to inspect the venue next door, I was in the middle of pinning her against the wall while screwing her brains out. "She was so nervous that she shook even more than the first time we slept together. Later on, you were summoned to another place. Only then did she have the guts to keep moaning." After following Charles' line of sight, I find myself looking at the young woman, who's currently taking photos of us with her camera. That's when my mind buzzes loudly. It's Samantha Wood, the hostage whom my dad has taken seven stabs for just to save her in a kidnapping case. Just now, Samantha was all tears and snot as she swore to me, "Nat, if he dares hurt you in any way, I'll definitely exact revenge on him, even at the cost of my life!" Charles moves to shield Samantha from my gaze, though his tone remains gentle. "It's your choice now. Do you want to continue with the process? Or do you want to take some time off to cry your heart out, and we can do this another day?" I feel my blood turning to ice at that moment. The system's warning blares loudly in my mind. "Warning—you have failed in registering your marriage with the target. The eradication protocol will be activated soon. You now have a 48-hour countdown."

"Do you think you can escape, mate?"Xavier was acting irrationally, behaving in ways that were hard for her to predict and harder to defend against.On top of everything else, the mating bond was back in earnest, riding her hard and making Ava hyperaware of every single point of contact where Xavier’s body met her own. Her body began heating up of its own volition, responding purely to his proximity. The scent of wood ash and violets was nearly suffocating.Ava bit her lip, and turned her head away, unwilling to throw the first jab. He’d brought her here and he was the one keeping her here. If he had something to do, nothing was stopping him.“Is this all you’ve got for me, Ava?” When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and lustful. “You used to be better at this.”Being accused of murdering the Alpha’s sister and lover, Ava was sent to the dungeon three years ago. Life imprisonment. These two words were too heavy to take. Ava lost her pride, her friends, her belief and her love in that night.After three years, she was sent out secretly to a sex club – the Green Light Club, where she got the reunion with her Alpha, Xavier. And she was astonished to find out who they really were…Three years of abusive life changed her life. She ought to seek for a revenge. She ought to bark with scars, vengeance and hatreds. But she owe to someone. And she must keep her promise. The only thing she could think about was escaping. However, Xavier offered a deal. But she must ‘pay’ for her freedom and atonement. In the meantime, she gradually found out the truth about what happened three years ago.

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

"He drags me from wall to table to wall again, like he can’t decide which surface deserves this. Wood bites my spine, the table squeals. His hands are everywhere, rough, greedy, feral. He palms my throat, my jaw, my hips. He fists a hand in my hair and angles my mouth. The kiss is vicious. He grinds me open with it. 'Kneel,' he says. The command is a shove under the skin. My legs fold. It’s humiliating how fast I go and how much I love myself for it." He owns my mouth. My body. My fucking soul. But I never said he could have my heart. Eli’s been chained before and it damn near killed him. So when he’s caught running through Blackthorn pack lands by Ronan Vale, the savage Alpha of Blackthorn, he's horrified when the brute marks and claims him. But Ronan doesn’t just bite. He binds. With ropes, with rules, with a voice that makes Eli's knees go weak and a touch that turns resistance into hunger. The bond between them is feral. And Eli hates how much he wants it, how much he wants Ronan, even when he has him spread out and shaking, marked and owned, begging to be filled so he’ll stop feeling empty. Eli swore no one would ever own him again. Then came the Alpha whose bond feels like a brand and a promise all at once. He hates how much he wants it. Ronan’s voice. Ronan’s hands. Ronan’s brutal, worshipful need. This isn’t love, it’s obsession. And Eli is afraid that he's starting to like it.

Genre:- EroticaPrologueDark RomanceWarning! Warning!! Warning!!!THIS BOOK CONTAINS STEAMY SCENES IN EVERY CHAPTER, IF YOU ARE BELOW 18 AND YOU FEEL INSECURE ABOUT READING AN EROTIC BOOK, PLEASE DON'T READ IT. IT CONTAINS HIGH SEXUAL CONTENT!!!... Sexual violence is one of the most awful weapons of war, used against women. But huge numbers of men are also victims. Governments, aid agencies, and human rights defenders barely acknowledge its possibility. This made some men scared to speak up. This is the case of Nate Wilson.his stepmother sexually abuse him when he was a kid. Any time he summon the courage to open up to his father, the young man always came up with one or two things just to escape from it. He has no choice than to keep it to himself, 20 years later, he grows up to be an handsome guy, he graduated from college but decided to drop his certificate in the house and go for a stripper workBeing a victim of rape from a tender age, has made him good in all aspects that have to do with SEX, he stripped at the club and also has sex with any available woman for money, let's just say, he is a manwhore.But what happened when he meet her?Oliver Thompson, a married woman whose husband didn't satisfy her with sex, her friend invited her to the club where Nate worked as a stripper.What happened when they meet?"I will do what your husband can never do to you, I will worship your body in a way that your husband hasn't done before, now strip!"

After Dad cheated and divorced Mom, I did not choose Mom, who walked away with nothing. Instead, I chose Dad, who clearly favored his illegitimate son, Oliver Brooks. It was only because after their divorce, Mom's obsession with reconciliation romance novels got me killed twice. In my first life, Mom was so desperate for Dad's respect that she willingly gave up everything in the divorce just to take me with her. In the end, my heart condition flared up, and without money for treatment, I died in agony on that hospital bed. In my second life, I went against Mom's wishes and asked Dad for the surgery money upfront. However, Mom was hell-bent on pushing Dad onto a so-called redemption path, forced me to go bungee jumping the day before my surgery. Dad tried to stop me from jumping, but he was speeding and ended up in a fatal car crash. Mom blamed everything on me. With pure hatred in her eyes, she shoved me off that cliff. "Useless piece of trash! Not only can't you help me win your father back, but you got him killed too. You might as well die with him!" That moment made everything crystal clear: Mom never actually loved me. She just saw me as a tool to get Dad back. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mom demanded a divorce from Dad, for the third time.

I was born to shine. But the fate had others plans for me. The moment my feet left the edge, the world fell silent. There was only wind. And peace. For one fragile heartbeat, I was free. Like a bird. Then something slammed into me from behind. Arms. Hard. Unforgiving. The impact hurled me sideways instead of down. Wood splintered. Something inside me cracked. Darkness rushed in and I welcomed it. … “Open. Your. Eyes.” The voice was quiet, slow, deliberate. It forced its way through bone and blood. An Alpha command. Pain detonated through me as air tore back into my lungs. My body convulsed against my will. I tried to sink back into the quiet—to finish what I had started. “You were NEVER given permission to die.” Power wrapped around the words like chains. My eyes snapped open. We were beyond the pack’s borders. The air felt colder. Wilder. Untouched by law or duty. For one second, I had belonged to nothing. And he had dragged me back. He loomed above me, fury carved into every sharp angle of his face. His breathing was controlled, his posture dominant - absolute. If anyone were watching from the cliffs, they would see an Alpha asserting ownership. His jaw tightened, irritated at being forced to deal with something that should have already been resolved. I had complicated his plans. “Drink.” His wrist pressed my mouth. The metallic scent hit first. I tried to clamp my lips shut. But Alpha commands do not ask. They take. My mouth opened against my will and his blood burned down my throat, spreading heat through my chest. A cruel gift. He would not even grant me the mercy of dying on my own terms. And I understood - even my death did not belong to me.

I looked around suddenly perceiving something so alluring like pinewood mixed with Raspberry and I could tell my mate was close. A figure suddenly walked into the woods and towards me and I gasped in fear as his eyes bore into mine. "Mate" he said. My excitement kicked started knowing that I finally had a mate who had come to save me but the happiness was short lived when he said to me. "You are such a weakling" Fear instantly gripped me as I didn't want him to reject me. "please don't reject me, I beg of you." I pleased softly. "what is your name??" he asked "T...T...Tyla." "I, Alpha Thane of the Tiger wood blood pack, reject you Tyla as my mate and Luna." he spat. I felt an intense sting of pain coarse through me as I gazed intensely into his eyes. "I, Tyler Niver, accept your Rejection." "Who do you think you are to accept my rejection??!!!" he yelled as I flinched. "Nobody." "Just you wait and see how I make your life a living hell...from a nobody, you will be totally forgotten." Tyla Niver, an orphaned girl sold into a pack as a slave has always dreamt of having a perfect life with her mate. Although she hadn't shifted yet, that didn't stop her from dreaming big but her dreams came crashing before her eyes when her mate rejected her as his Luna. what she didn't know was that accepting his rejection only opened a dangerous pathway for her into the life of the ruthless and arrogant Alpha Thane and he has vowed to make her life miserable. will her later reverse his rejection and fall for his weak mate or will his Ruthlessness push them further apart from each other.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

During the ten years since I was found and brought to my biological family, Sonia Baxter, the girl who took my place, and I have been as close as real sisters. Even Mom says that Sonia cares more about me than a real sister would. I once swore I'd give my life to protect our special family of four. When Sonia is rushed into emergency surgery with a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, I am in my office, calmly practicing a basic suturing technique on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arm threads the needle with such precision that it looks like a work of art. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Oliver Lyons, slams open the office door and shouts at me, "Amelia Baxter! Sonia's in critical condition. Only your micro-dissection skills can save her! Every expert in the hospital is waiting for you! We've got less than an hour before the window closes!" He looks at me with hopeful eyes. I'm the only person in the country capable of performing a surgery this complex. My hands are even known as the "Hands of God". However, I simply reply with a hum and continue fiddling with the model. Suddenly, my parents rush in. Mom grabs my arm and cries out, "Amelia! That's your sister in there! How could you just stand by and watch her die?" I gently pull away from her and hold my right hand out in front of them. This hand, which had once created countless medical miracles, is now trembling slightly. "Unfortunately, since yesterday, I've been showing symptoms of essential tremor. Dad, Mom… this hand is ruined."