Please Throw Me Away Novels & Stories

“Is it really impossible for you to love me? Even a little?” I sounded desperate. His lips curled into a mocking grin. “Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. I would never love a desperate woman like you. Amanda’s my everything. And you? You are nothing.” *** Angel Elowyn Montero and Gideon Elwood were once good friends until marriage ruined everything they had. To Gideon, she was the reason his life was ruined and the reason the woman he loved never returned. Their marriage was loveless and detached. Despite everything, she held on to the hope that he would eventually love her too. His family, except for his parents, despised Angel as well. In the mansion, she was treated worse than a servant by his siblings, who bossed her around and even hurt her physically. Until one day, she finally had enough. She grew tired of hoping for a love that would never be reciprocated. So, when her husband handed her divorce papers again, she did not think twice and signed them. Only after she was gone did Gideon realize his own feelings. He loved her far more than he had ever allowed himself to admit. But by then, it was too late. He no longer knew where his ex-wife was. Years later, she returned. Angel was no longer the fragile woman who endured everything for the sake of love. She came back as someone entirely different: fierce, bold, independent. Now, the tables had finally turned. He loved her, and he was determined to win her back.

Madeline Crawford gave Jeremy Whitman everything. Twelve years of love, loyalty, and quiet devotion, and he repaid her with a prison sentence she did not earn. She watched him fall in love with another woman through the cold glass of a window she was visiting. She swallowed her tears every single night in a six-by-eight cell. She learned, slowly and painfully, how to rebuild herself from nothing. Five years later, she walks back through Havenport's gilded doors not as the broken girl Jeremy once discarded, but as a woman the city will not soon forget. She has money now. Connections. A plan. And a rage so cold and precise it could cut glass. She is going to ruin every single person who helped put her there, starting with Jeremy Whitman himself. But then something goes wrong. Jeremy stops being the enemy she remembers. He becomes something far more dangerous: a man who is sorry. A man who is fighting for her. A man who, in front of the entire city, drops to his knees and kisses her feet and says, 'Madeline, I was wrong to love another. From now on, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.' And Madeline looks down at him and feels nothing she expected to feel. She says, 'I will only forgive you if you die.' What she does not say is this: she is not sure she means it anymore.

He destroyed her life in a heartbeat. Now he wants her heart to beat for him. On her wedding day, Elena Robertson wore red for love. It ended in blood. Her parents, slaughtered before her eyes. Her fiancé, gunned down with a smile on his lips. Her freedom, stolen by the man who thought she was someone else. Thorne Del Roi. The Mafia King feared across continents. Cold. Merciless. Godless. He took everything from her to avenge a crime she never committed. He broke her, used her, poisoned her soul with vengeance. But truth cuts deeper than any blade. Now, the devil who destroyed her is the only one who can’t stop craving her. Not for her body, but for the heart he never meant to feel beating in his chest. And Elena? She wants to hate him. She should hate him. But what do you do when your enemy becomes the air you breathe? He’s power. She’s fury. He’s fire. She’s the match. And when love ignites between them, it won’t just burn, it will explode. So much twist you can't imagine. Dive and enjoy the ride.

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Lorenzo De Angelis is an Italian tycoon who runs his empire with an iron fist. He is gorgeous, powerful, young, and very wealthy. His enemies are several and quite ferocious, so Lorenzo trusts no one. This is why when he discovers a woman hiding in his office, listening to some important and extremely confidential information, his first instinct is to keep her ‘prisoner’ for a few days while trying to discover who is this beautiful ‘spy’. She is Phoebe Stone and she is just doing her job cleaning offices, without knowing she is ‘in the wrong place at the wrong time’. So, in a matter of minutes, against her wishes, she will start a thrilling adventure, next to a stunning but frightening man. This adventure will change both their lives forever. (Excerpt) The reality hit her hard. She was standing in a dimly lit room, half naked in front of the man who kidnapped her… who threatened her... The most beautiful man in the world. He lifted her hands and put them on him as if it was the most natural thing in the world that she should touch him. She caressed him again, just to make sure he was really there. He covered her small hands with his and stood perfectly still. “If you want me to stop, I will. If you want me to leave this room, I will. ‘Piccola’ (Ita. Baby), the decision is yours.” “Don’t stop, please… I just want to be yours tonight… and always…”

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. "Say you're a slut." He said, watching her finger herself, absentmindedly stroking his dick. "I," she gasped, closing her eyes, but being thrilled at saying the words, "I am a slut.. oh, please fuck me." He turned her around, forcing her up onto her hands and knees. She felt him run his hands down her back, up her spread ass, and finally pull on her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She moaned and turned herself up for him, pushing her open cunt back onto him. He leaned forward and grabbed her braids, pulling her head back as he rammed his dick inside her hard. She cried out and tightened around his dick, "Oh god, yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard and dirty." She moaned out. "I'm a fucking slut. Hurt my pussy."

If the idea of the man who should protect you instead pinning you down and claiming every hole makes you squirm, close this book immediately and find something tame. But if your panties are already soaked and your pulse is racing at the thought of forbidden hands on your body… then spread those pages like a good little slut and keep going. This isn’t sweet. This isn’t slow. These stories throw innocent young women straight into the fire—defiant brats broken by the commanding cocks of their dominant stepdads, possessive stepbrothers, hungry step-uncles, dominant fathers-in-law, reclaiming ex-dads, and their father’s best friends. Expect rough throat-fucking that leaves mascara running down flushed cheeks. Expect tight virgin asses stretched wide and pounded mercilessly. Expect fertile little pussies pumped full of thick, risky creampies while they growl filthy promises: “Daddy’s going to knock you up, princess. Fill that womb until you’re carrying my baby.” Sneaking around while Mom sleeps down the hall. Risky quickies that could get them caught any second. Blackmail, power games, and total surrender. These alpha men don’t ask—they take. They train eager mouths, claim every hole, and mark their territory with load after load of hot cum. Breeding. Deepthroat. Anal. Degradation. DDLG. BDSM. Raw, unprotected taboo fucking that leaves trembling thighs sticky and minds completely wrecked. If the thought of being owned, ruined, and bred by the men who raised you makes your cunt clench… welcome home, babygirl. Your men are already hard and waiting.

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

“Oh yes, Daddy, just like that!” That was me crying from the computer; slowly I turned to look to see if there was a video when I was met with Daddy's cock. He had shoved down his pants, and oh my god, it was just as beautiful as I imagined. Thick, hard of cum that made me wetter. I just wanted to get on my little knees and suck it dry. "I've been jerking to your videos.” He groaned, his hand now slowly running through his beautiful cock; holy fuck, it made my tits hard. Hearing that he's been jerking to my videos and that he's been recording me secretly, creepy in a way that made my clit twitch.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.