Paid

When the debt of Freya Lomie's neck was almost driving her crazy, all of a sudden she started getting an envelope filled with money from an untraceable location. Three times she got the same exact envelope, filled with $20,000 which not only could bring her out of the slump of debt, but could also seal her fate, with just four words attached to it, “...You..." "..Belong..." "... To Me...” Freya ignored the warning sign, paid off her debt, lived a comfortable life, a year later, a knock was heard on her door, a man stood before her, his eyes dark, lips pressed In firm fine line, the moment he let out the word, Freya knew her life would never remain the same again. "Iam here to collect You"

He doesn’t knock. He breaks the door down—and your back with it. In Nailed: Men In Heat, the men are ruthless, brutal, and always hard. They bend you over desks, shove you face-first into pillows, and split you open like they paid for the right. No sweet talk. No cuddling. Just cum, bruises, and the sound of skin slapping skin. You’ll gag. You’ll drool. You’ll beg. And he’ll just keep going. Spit-soaked. Ass-up. Throat-fucked. He’ll ruin your hole, coat your insides, and leave you leaking for days. If you’re not shaking by the end of the chapter? You’ll be begging for the next man to finish the job. These are raw, relentless, hole-filling fucks—and they always finish deep. One thrust and you’re addicted.

I never met my real father. Living in a small werewolf community, there were always rumors. But I never really paid much attention. I only listened to what my mother said about him and she never talking about him. So I assumed that it was something painful and I accepted that and left it alone. Being a single teenage mother, she was shunned by the rest of the pack but she wasn't sent out to be Rogue. She managed to finish school, go to college and become a Doctor. She is one of the most highly respected professions but they still treat us like vermin. So when I started getting in numerous fights at school my mother decided it was time to pack up and leave. Go to a new pack and start fresh. And that's where my story begins.

When I saw my best friend tending to the elderly man upstairs with such diligence in washing his clothes, cooking his meals, feeding him medicine, and giving him massages, I immediately knew that she had been reborn, too. In my previous life, my best friend and I shared an apartment. We were often awakened in the middle of the night by the old man’s cough from upstairs. When I went up to check on him, I learned that his legs were paralyzed, and he had no children or family. Out of sympathy, I decided to care for him. I brought him his daily meals and gave him massages. A month later, out of the blue, the old man mysteriously handed me a bank card and said, “There’s eight million here. It’s my reward to you.” With that money, I immediately went and paid off my father’s medical bills. Later, the old man went even further and transferred the ownership of the apartment that we were renting to me. He told me, “When your father is discharged, move in together. That way, I’ll have someone to keep me company, too!” When my best friend learned of this, however, she went ballistic. During the few days I was having trouble sleeping, she had secretly spiked my water with a lethal dose of sleeping pills. She watched as I died in agony. After my death, my boyfriend, posing as my fiancé, cut off my father’s medical bills and took away the old man’s bank card. Meanwhile, my best friend spread slanderous rumors among the neighbors, claiming the old man gave me money because I had sold myself to him. Half a year later, the two got married and paid in full for a luxury apartment in the city centre. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the old man upstairs was coughing uncontrollably.

BLURB “Mr Geal, we can't please.” her voice breaks as he trailed his fingers down jaw to her lips. Her breath comes out in gasps as she tightens her legs together, “Please, you are betrothed.” she murmured. His hands move to her neck where he tightens them whispering, “It doesn't matter,” he growls, his fingers finding their way beneath my skirt. “I am yours anyway.” He doesn't give her a second before his fingers sweep her panties aside, and find their way home. “Holy hell-” therest of the words is jumbled in her throat as he slams his lips against hers ~~~~~~ Olivia Macurry, a woman whose lifetime goal was to stop stripping. She wanted nomore than a white collar job where she wouldn't have to open her legs to get paid. After getting ordered by a man whopaid fifteen thousand dollars to have her for the night, she agreed but she didn't keep to the bargain. Now her new boss is the same blue eyed man that paid for a night with her, the same man she left when he was in the bathroom barely an hour after their first round. But it's too late because he wants her again. Just a taste, and he's addicted. He won't let her go, not even when he is buried six feet under. He can't stop, he must have her after all he paid for a night. Obsession turns into attraction. Attraction turns into possession. Possession turns into pure madness. He refuses to let her go yet he is betrothed to another. Secrets, lies, betrayal, and anger drives their relationship towards madness as everything is turned upside. But then Leonardo's best quality was that he thrived in chaos, and even though he is betrothed he belonged to her. Body, mind, and fucking soul.

MATURE CONTENT: This book is strictly R18+ BLURB: Excerpt: Before I could turn toward him, the ground vanished beneath my feet. Again, a startled gasp tore from my throat as he lifted me with sudden force, and in the next breath, my legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands firm on my ass like I paid him to own it too. Before words could leave my mouth he kissed me deliberately. Like he needed to stir the moment. Stir something in me. My pupils flared at the shock of his movement, my heart pounding so violently it felt as though it might break free from my chest. "I wouldn't mind helping you strip if you aren't going to do it yourself?" His voice dripped demand that felt more like a command instead of a request. Too much of an aura for a one-night stand who I never knew was the husband I feared. ~~~ How will you feel when you wake up only to discover you had been set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose stories about him made ears that heard it tingle? Afraid, devastated, angry, right? Then what will be your reaction when you find out that a one-night stand whom you had paid to stir a scandal and stop the marriage turned out to be the arranged husband you're running away from? Now I believe words can't describe your feelings. However, that was my story. He wanted me, made rules for me. Made me fight to know who he was and now even my restraint can't subdue him rather he consumed every bit of me. What will become my fate when I find out what made me afraid of him, afraid of the city was actually who I was?

"I thought you were my savior. I didn't know you were the one who set the fire." The day the debt collectors came for my family, I couldn’t even scream. My voice has always been a prisoner of my anxiety, leaving me defenseless in a world of wolves. Then came Ignatius. My brother’s best friend. A man with the face of a saint and the wealth of a king. He didn't just save me; he bought my world. He paid the debts, moved me into his palatial estate, and whispered that I was finally safe. For the first time, I felt the warmth of a "hero." I gave him my trust. I almost gave him my heart. But a saint doesn't keep cameras in your bedroom. The crushing realization hit harder than any blow from a collector: Ignatius didn't buy my debt—he created it. He paid the men who terrified my mother. He orchestrated the ruin of my brother. Every tear I shed was a calculated investment in my total dependence on him. He didn’t want a lover; he wanted a broken pet. Now, the "Saint" has dropped his mask. Ignatius thinks because I am mute, I am powerless. He thinks because I am fragile, I am his. He’s wrong. If Ignatius wants to play the Predator, I’ll find a bigger one. His father, Cane—the cold, ruthless patriarch of the empire—is the only man Ignatius fears. I’m moving from the guest room to the master suite. I’m going to tear this family apart from the inside out, one forbidden dinner at a time. Ignatius ruined my life to own me. Now, I’m going to make sure the debt he owes me costs him everything.

Blurb/Synopsis Jane didn't meet him like they all thought she did. It happened much longer than that, in the heart of the city of Vegas, with pulsing music, a painfully short skirt, alcohol, and the compelling thirst to cross the line. But Jane never did. Because she was in love with Shawn, her college lover, it didn't matter that as the year ran by, the attention he paid her lowered with it; that his new secretary wore the same cologne as him; that their three-year marriage was fast becoming boring. She craved more. She demanded more. But Shawn couldn’t see it. Until the night it all ended in the pool of their mansion, blood mixing with the clear water, sirens blasting all around. But Jane's eyes opened again, and she was back in that night in Vegas, with him. The man with the piercing green eyes. The man who was going to be a complicated part of her story.

Her fiancé murdered her family and sold her virgin cunt to the highest bidder in the North. Ten million gold, and she’s on her knees, dripping, collared, and gifted to the Devil Alpha himself. Vuk Kael Lasković is seven feet of cruel muscle and demonic cock. He rips her open on the throne-room floor, knot swelling, fangs in her throat, and growls through the ruin: “Fuck!! Look at you taking me raw—what have you done to me, little moon?” He paid to hunt her. He’ll spend the rest of eternity breeding her sloppy, marking every inch of skin, turning the last Lunar princess into his personal, whimpering, cum-soaked queen. She was sold to be used and discarded. She’ll be the filthy little slut who owns the Devil’s soul, one ruined orgasm at a time.

Ayenne's nearly perfect life has been ruined by a misconception that throws her life into chaos. Ayenne has paid off the depth of the false accusations leveled against her; she intends to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge and drowning herself. When she was clinging for her mere life while drowning in the river, she met Ali. The fearless man who rescued her. That also marks the beginning of her new life, and her bleak existence gradually becomes more vivid as Ali provides her with another reason to live and stay alive. However, Ayenne can’t ignore her cruel past as it pursues her once more. When she faced her dark past. The picture of her filled with happiness and contentment in Ali's embrace slowly fades as a series of events occur in Ayenne and Ali's lives that put their love and faithfulness to each other to the test.