R6 Novels & Stories

Rachel “Jayce, are you going to tell me where the heck has been driving us for a long time?” I sighed, resting my head on the headrest. “Calm down and just relax,” Jayce said, giving me a small smile before turning his focus to the road. “It’s been one hour,” I complained. “No, to mention this place looks pretty damn scary,” “It’s not scary, it’s calming.” I scanned his face, only to find him smiling. “Calming yeah, more like horrifying,”

I slid across the sheets and knelt between his legs, already dripping again. He grabbed my hair and tilted my chin up. “First rule,” he said, voice commanding. “When I give you a command, you obey without hesitation. If you need a break, you say the safeword: red. If you want me to slow down, say yellow. Anything else…” He smirked. “Means keep going.” “Yes, Daddy.” “Second rule: You ask permission before touching yourself.” My thighs clenched. “Third: You speak when spoken to, unless I give you permission to talk.”

Synn explained, excitement filled in her tone. I wasn't still clear about what she was talking about. So I probed further, "And what's the Red House all about, and why have you been dreaming of going there?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Red House is where people go to be loved and destroyed." My eyes dropped wide open the moment she said this. But Synn wasn't done, she exhaled softly and continued, "The Red House is a male dominated room where you can go and explore your deepest desire, but with a higher chance of getting ruined, because the guys in that room are not human, they are wolves." Synn slurred, she still seemed excited about the punishment.

THE CEO’S ASSISTANT PT 4 Sloane decided the risk was worth taking, and on a Friday evening she had Rhea dress in a simple black dress with nothing underneath except the small plug already seated deep inside her and the thin leather collar locked around her throat. She clipped a short leash to the ring and led her through the discreet side entrance of a private members’ club whose lounge was lit only by low amber lamps and the soft glow of shaded candles. The air smelled of polished wood, expensive perfume, and the faint residual of cigar smoke from some other room. Sloane walked her slowly between the clusters of quiet conversations, the leash held taut enough that Rhea had to stay close, ev

I gasped sharply, my pussy stretching around his thick cock as he drove deeper. “Fuck… Sophia,” Ryan growled, voice rough with whiskey and something darker. “You want it harder? You want me to fuck you like that bastard Victor fucked my wife?” I moaned loudly, rolling my hips faster, grinding my clit against him with every movement. “Yes,” I breathed desperately. “Harder, Ryan. Please… fuck me harder.” He suddenly flipped us over, pinning me beneath him on the motel bed. His eyes were wild, drunk, and filled with pain-fueled rage. He grabbed my legs, pushed them back toward my chest, and slammed into me with brutal force.

I glanced at the dash clock. 4:05 p.m. Oh, crap! I said a brief thank you and drove out of there. I arrived at the estate, heart racing and praying I was the only one home. The garage doors slid open to Law's matte-black R8, Silas’s midnight Bugatti and Leon’s gunmetal Range Rover. They were home. My stomach plummeted to my feet.I killed the engine and sat there gripping the wheel. I thought about running. Just leaving the car, the bags and everything.

"Generate. Bleed. Serve the Canopy." Participant 61 didn't walk into the arena; he erupted into it. He was a massive, heavily scarred riveter from the deep kinetic forges. The Red Rust had completely consumed his nervous system. His aura, viewed through Marcus's Chrome Diamond pupils, was a terrifying, jagged storm of toxic crimson spikes. His eyes were entirely black, dilated with sheer, psychotic agony. He was no longer a man; he was a vessel of pressurized, violent kinetic sickness desperately trying to explode.

The countdown didn’t just appear on the billboards; it burned into the retinas of every person holding a smartphone, every pilot staring at an avionics suite, and every surgeon guided by a robotic arm. 59:59. It was a digital death-knell, a "Final Solution" for a leaked asset. The Real Rhys wasn't just erasing the Primal Six; he was burning the entire forest to catch the wolves.

At the very top of the grade ranking board, two names appeared side by side in the largest font. First place: Anita Rivers, Connor Thompson.

Driver said. “What do you mean? Who are you?” Stan asked. “Right now… I am the man who will be training you from now on” Driver said making no sense to Stan. “I am sorry what” Stan asked again. “If an animal goes reckless and rouge then it is imperative to put him on leash” Driver said. “I am no animal” Stan said lowly. “You are worse” Driver insulted Stan. “Who are you?” Stan whispered near driver’s ears. “Don’t be so impatient. There will be numerous encounters from now on” Driver told Stan.