Personalized Leather Bible Niv Novels & Stories

Alpha Jax Blackwood discovers his destined mate in Lola, an ordinary human girl with an extraordinary twist. Lola is soon forced to leave the town she tried to call home. However, Jax, driven by the primal need to claim his mate and secure his Alpha title, intervenes, claiming Lola as his own against her wishes. Trapped in a world she never imagined, Lola must navigate the dangers posed by both the man to whom she’s linked and Jax's mischievous cousin, Alpha Ash, who harbors a dangerous fascination for her. As the battle for Lola's safety intensifies, Jax faces the challenge of fending off growing threats and keeping his cousin at bay, all while convincing Lola to stay by his side. "I'll give you two choices," Ash humored, taking a step, "Chase after your friend or leave, start anew somewhere else away from all the crazy." He grinned mischievously. "You were letting her go, weren't you?" he stated, eyeing Jax. Jax tensed, fists clenching at his sides. "What's your call, little one?" Ash pressed. Lola envisioned Melissa's reaction, then glanced at the bag near her feet. She picked it up, feeling the cold leather wrap around her shoulder. Ash cheered as the choice was made, and Jax seethed. As Lola moved towards the door, Ash intercepted and gazed in amusement. "There's one little thing," he said leaning in "I lied," he whispered, snatching the bag from her hands as Jax restrained her from behind. "What are you doing?" Lola protested, trying to create distance. Ash ignored her, relishing her discomfort. "You don't get to choose," he declared, ripping the bag from her hands as Jax covered her mouth.

"You think you can hunt us in our own territory, little star?" Cain's voice is velvet wrapped around steel as he and his brothers flank me in the shadowy alley. "We know exactly who you are." I was a cop. Then my brother's mutilated corpse turned up in a ditch and every piece of blood-soaked evidence screamed the Vultures MC's name. Three ruthless brothers who ruled through fear, pain, and absolute dominance. So I dyed my hair blonde, erased my identity, and walked straight into the devil's den. Their bar. Their territory. Their world of sin and savagery. I'd destroy them from within or die trying. But nothing prepared me for Cain's predatory stare that strips me bare with a glance. Or Jax's twisted smile that promises delicious torment. Or Ryder's brutal hands that pin me against cold brick while his breath burns against my neck, whispering dark threats that make my body betray every principle I've ever held. Now I'm drowning in their intoxicating darkness. Leather, blood, and raw masculine hunger that consumes everything in its path. They're marking me, claiming me, breaking me down piece by piece until I can't remember who I was before them. When I finally uncover the shocking truth about my brother's murder, everything I believed shatters. The real killer has been hiding in plain sight, and now I'm caught between two deadly worlds. My oath as a cop and my surrender to these beautiful monsters. But when the lines blur between justice and vengeance, between duty and desire, how far will I fall before I lose myself completely?

On the day Winter Everhart suffers a miscarriage, her husband, Joshua Stroud, and their son, Terence, are out with his beloved Jessica Lynch. They watch the very performance Winter has always loved. "You're just so unreasonable. What's the point of all this?" "Dad, can you get me a new mom? She's so annoying!" On Winter's birthday, she returns from the hospital only to find Joshua celebrating Jessica's instead. Even Terence, the child she nearly gave her life to bring into the world, pledges to protect the woman who has stolen everything from her. Tears glisten in Winter's eyes as she smiles. Then, with quiet resolve, she walks away from the cage of a marriage that has bound her for five years. Joshua and Terence believe she won't survive without the Stroud family. What they don't expect is that she rises so high that they can no longer reach her. "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud's car design is now number one nationwide—Stroud Group has been completely outshone!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has just won the World Championship in Artificial Intelligence Design!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has been invited by a foreign president to attend a state banquet!" Regret tears Joshua apart. Dragging Terence with him, he kneels before Winter and pleads, "Honey, please give me another chance! If being your servant is what it takes, I'll do it!" But just beyond the door, a strikingly handsome man kneels on one knee, a leather collar fastened around his neck. Twining a diamond leash around Winter's palm, he vows with his gaze burning with feverish devotion, "My master, from this moment on, I bow to no one but you. Please, take me in."

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

"Get on the bed Elowen" His voice sliced through me in a command, silencing every protest in my throat. I climbed onto the king's-sized bed without a word, my pulse thundering as he unbuckled his belt from his trousers once more. My heart hammered wildly, skipping beats, and I opened my mouth to defend myself. "I came to talk to you about—" But he seized my wrists like they were nothing, binding them tight with the leather strap until I couldn't budge an inch. "You came here to let me teach you something filthy, didn't you? Tutoring my daughter isn't enough—you want lessons in boundaries too, right?" I shook my head frantically, but he loomed over me, those piercing Alpha eyes boring into my soul. His fingers pinched my n#ppl£s through my shirt, twisting just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-laced pleasure straight to my cor£. ***** After her Pack was raided by the Lycan King of a dangerous Pack, she fled and got into the arms of a good Samaritan who took her in and nurtured her as their daughter, She finished her degree in college and became a teacher in the famous School in Ashvielle Pack until the day she was chosen to tutor the Alpha's daughter but a lot changed when she wasn't just tutoring her the Alpha's daughter, She was being tutored by the Alpha after stepping into a forbidden room that was sacred, What's worse? She's mated to him and the Alpha's friends, when the sons returned from their trip overseas, they wanted to have her too. She doesn't know how to escape or flee from this entanglement. Warning: Strictly Contains Smut, Reverse Harem MM, MMF and some trigger degrading words.

Isla- a young, and underestimated warrior. After surviving years of traumatic abuse, she is left orphaned, and alone. She strives to prove to herself, and others, that she is not weak. Though she is beautiful and strong years of psychological abuse, she doesn’t believe she is worthy of love, or that the Moon Goddess will grant her a fated mate. Alpha Zac is the fair and strong leader of Clear Creek. Secretly a hopeless romantic, Zac wants his fated mate more than anything. But after waiting years to find her, he has accepted a playboy lifestyle. When a unique she-wolf warrior joins his pack, she does more than fulfill his fantasies, she tests how far he will go to protect from her past. “WEAK” he yells as he swiftly brings the whip at me. I quickly try to cover my face but am not fast enough. I hiss in pain as the unforgiving leather slices my hand and eyebrow.I try to swallow the sob that wants to escape me but instead I throw up. Maybe he would have stopped there if I would have missed his boots.** (ISLA) I feel a pang of jealousy, what she has is what I've always wanted. A loving family, support, friends, and stability. Audrie doesn't have to question if she belongs here or try to prove her worth. (ZAC)My whole chest tightens and my wolf presses forward. “MATE”. The urgency to hold her, to take away the pain intensifies. I reach out and lift her head, and that's when I see the gash trickling blood onto the already blood-covered rock. I scoop her up and head straight to the infirmary. I just found my mate, I can't lose her on the same night.

Wives are to be claimed, whores are for fucking. But me? I’m to be PLEASURED. ~~~ Chelsea Stone signed the contract expecting a cold and dead marriage. Instead she found herself collared by Dominic Hartwell – a man whose rules were written in silk restraints, leather belts, and the low growl of full command. He bound her wrists above her head and taught her that silence was no longer armor; it was foreplay. He spread her wide open on silk sheets and edged her for hours with fingers, tongue, and the thick head of his veiny cock until she was dripping, shaking, and sobbing “Please, big daddy… I’ll be good.” Only then did he drive into her deep and relentless, one hand tight around her throat, the other spanking her ass while he fucked her into shattering, screaming release. Chelsea was never meant to stay broken though, because in the darkness between punishments and praise, she began to crave more than surrender. She wanted to test him, to push and whisper filthy things against his ear while she rode his thigh, soaked and trembling: “I want to be your little cunt who shows big daddy who’s really boss.” Dominic’s eyes darkened with dangerous promise every time she dared. The more he punished her with a be*t across her, cock down her throat until tears ran down her cheeks, hands pinning her down while he claimed every inch of her. The more she burned to flip their power while he owned her body. Yet as old enemies sharpened their knives and forbidden pasts, pain and pleasure blurred until Chelsea no longer knew where submission ended and rebellion began. Would she kneel forever… OR would the quiet wife finally make her ruthless husband beg?

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

Warning – 18+ Only This story is full of raw passion, steamy romance, and tantalizing tension. By turning these pages, you confirm you are 18 or older and ready to be seduced by a world of pleasure, desire, and temptation. Read responsibly… welcome to an erotic world. He touched her in ways she didn’t understand but craved. Every movement, every kiss, every whisper made her shiver. His hands slid down her gown and tore off her panties. Spreading her legs as his face went straight to her pussy like he was starving. And goodness, that was just the beginning His tongue hit her like a rocket She screamed like a slut… She never knew she could scream like that. She had never been with anyone like him. She didn’t know what she was doing… but somehow, that didn’t matter. He took control, and she allowed him to. His tongue didn't just lick, it devoured her pussy, slowly and deep. Like he was memorizing every part of her body. “Fuck..” She cried her nails dug deep into the leather seat of the car, her legs shaking as he spread them wider shoving his two fingers into her without hesitation. After a brutal breakup that left her questioning her worth, Isabella Hart swore she’d never let another man make her feel small again. Her ex’s final words still echoed in her head... that she couldn’t satisfy him, that she didn’t even know what real pleasure was. So when a night out to forget turns into something wild, reckless, and unforgettable, Izzy doesn’t think... she just feels. One stranger. One night. One taste of what it means to lose control. He was dominant, commanding, intoxicating… and she never even got his name.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.