Professor X Name

My online boyfriend is my university professor and the future werewolf king, Sarek. And me? I’m Mila—just a human hunter’s descendant scraping by in the cracks of an era where species coexist in uneasy peace. What he doesn’t know is that his online girlfriend, whom he wishes to tear apart a thousand times over, is sitting in the very last row of his classroom. The online relationship was never meant to be real. It started as revenge to get back at him for failing me. But who would’ve thought this werewolf was so starved for affection that he’d fall deeper and deeper in love? Again and again, he pushed to meet in person. However, if we ever really met face to face, I’d be torn apart and swallowed whole—bones and all. To save my life, I made a split-second decision and broke up with him. The result? The “abandoned” werewolf king lost his mind. Classes dragged on for three extra hours, and homework increased fivefold. For the sake of my classmates’ mental and physical health, getting back together… wasn’t entirely impossible. There was only one condition: he could never find out who I really am.

"I swear I will kill you, Darkaldie Halcremide!" She swore, hatred in every word she uttered. "And I will find every attempt pleasurable, Astra." * Astra, picture perfect, a young priestess so perfect that her position as next head priestess was certain. Certain until he crashed into her life, Darkaldie Halcremide. He is her downfall. Her ruin. Crushing her pack and usurping the throne in a single day, Astra's life and future comes to an end and she seeks nothing more than death but Darkaldie craves not her death, but instead, his dark, filthy soul craves her pure, untainted soul. He is determined to get the perfect priestess to break and to crave but if there be anything Astra now craves, it is the death of Darkaldie Halcremide. She would go to any length for her sole craving, his death. And yet, what Darkaldie wants, Darkaldie gets. A struggle, a tussle. Cravings clash, lust stir, secrets lurk. Astra is TAKEN but Darkaldie's life, she vows to take. TAKEN - A Rogue King x Priestess Romance.

“That’s it, little sister,” he rasped against my ear, voice low and dangerous. “Soak your stepbrother’s fingers like the dirty, naughty girl you are.” Two thick fingers plunged deep into my dripping core without warning, stretching me, claiming me, pumping hard and fast. I whimpered, biting down on his shoulder to stifle the moan that threatened to betray us. “Be a good girl and stay silent…” he rumbled low in my ear, “or everyone in this library will know exactly how desperate you are to be fucked by me.” ~~~~ One reckless, drunken night. One masked stranger who set her body on fire with sin and secrets. No names. Just raw heat, tangled limbs, and forbidden pleasure. The next morning, still throbbing from the memory, Miyara walks into class only to freeze. The man commanding the lecture hall is no stranger. He’s Caden Cross, her stepbrother. The one who vanished six years ago, leaving her with a childhood crush she never quite buried. Her one-night stand. Now he’s back. Older. Darker. Her professor. The stepbrother she once ached for has returned with one purpose: to take her, ruin her, and break her completely, until she’s nothing but his. As buried secrets surface and outsiders conspire to tear them apart, Miyara must decide: fight the pull of the forbidden… or surrender to the man who’s always owned her heart and now wants every filthy, shattered piece of her. Will they burn together in the ashes of their taboo desire, consequences be damned? Or will the world force them apart before she can beg for more? ️ Warning: This story contains explicit sex scenes, stalking, non-con/dub-con acts, coercion and manipulation. Kindly proceed with caution

“คุณปล่อยฉันไปเถอะ…ฉันจะหาเงินมาใช้หนี้ก้อนนั้นให้เอง" “ฉันมีวิธีที่ดีกว่านั้นอีก” นัยน์ตาหวานวูบไหวระริก ไม่เข้าใจสิ่งที่เขาต้องการจะสื่อ “มันเอาน้องฉันจนท้อง ฉันก็เอาน้องมันคืนบ้าง เธอว่าเป็นไง”

"From now on, whenever you call me ‘Daddy’ in public, only you and I will know the true meaning behind it," said Gabriel Bloodfang. Every time I call him Daddy, only the two of us understand the truth hidden behind that word. To the world, I’m just a human girl saved by Alpha Bloodfang. To the Pack, I’m nothing more than a lucky adopted daughter. But to me, Daddy is everything, he’s my first love and my forbidden desire. One look from him makes my blood tremble. One touch from him ignites a fire that no law could ever extinguish.

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

Professor Alexis Wolfe knows better than to want his student, but Dorian Vega, the handsome rebel dark haired student. One stolen kiss turns into a reckless obsession and he can’t deny the pull between them. But when his wife Julien catches him in a lie, he realizes that sin is sweet, and secrets are even deadlier. What began as a forbidden attraction soon unravels into a game of power, deceit, and dangerous seduction. Soon, anonymous emails begin flooding Alexis’s inbox—each signed only with an “L.” They mention private memories he’s never shared, the scent of his cologne, the words he once whispered to someone long gone. At first, he thinks it’s blackmail. But the tone is too intimate, too knowing. Then one message arrives with a photo: a hand on his shoulder in a mirror, a hand that isn’t there when he turns around.

My name is Christian Thompson, and once upon a time, I was the best striker in European football. That was until he came along—Ashford Ryder, young and carefree, 10 years my junior and the new shining star. I hate him. At least that's what I tell myself. Not just because he's taken my spot, but because he's everything I've struggled all my life to be, and not to be. He's vibrant, he's happy, and the worst of all, he's openly gay. I'm not homophobic, quite the opposite—I've lived in the closet all my life. All my life, I've had to hide who I am to please the people around me. European football hasn't always been this accepting of gay men, and I'd squeezed myself into a box to fit in with what they wanted of me. It isn’t that hard when you think about my family who'd rather disown me than have an openly gay son. So imagine how I feel when the world decides to be more accommodating to people like Ashford Ryder when they shoved me in a box. It's not so easy to hate the happy-go-lucky striker, when he does everything to get close to me, despite my insistent hatred for him. He's like a thorn in my side—a hot, sexy, blonde, 5ft9 thorn I can't stop thinking about. But when one day I lose my cool around the popular striker and land myself in bad press, I end up needing his help. It's supposed to be easy. Spend some time with Ashford Ryder, and show our fans that we can work together—it's what I need to do to save my career. But no one tells you how hard it is to hate someone you spend every waking hour dreaming about.

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

My sister-in-law, Cynthia Ziegler, has my name written on her cancer diagnosis report. As such, the entire Ziegler family assumes that I'm the one with cancer. Overnight, my husband, Leonard Ziegler, sends a text message to his mistress, Irene Ludlow. "Our time will soon come! That old bat is about to die at last, so I'll finally be able to marry you!" My grandmother, Amanda Powell, cries and clings onto my hand, begging me not to seek treatment. She is not only discussing with Leonard on how best to split my insurance money after my death but also employing various methods to hasten my death. However, they are all unaware that Cynthia used my medical insurance card when she went for her physical examination. I feign sadness and nod with tears in my eyes. "I won't seek treatment, Mom. Let's not seek treatment no matter who is diagnosed with cancer."