Scraped Knuckles

"Little mouse, the next time I have to repeat something to you, I'll have to take you over my knee" I shuddered. The thought of him taking me over his knee made me hot for some unknown reason. I sat carefully on his laps, my legs to the side. He turned me so I straddled him. He caressed my sides and leaned into my neck. He sucked on the side of my neck and I tilted my head to give him better access. He scraped my neck gently and I moaned. I felt super sensitive all over my body."My king""Thane. Call me Thane. I want to hear you scream it when you cum for me."***************************************************Alpha King Thane is wild and ruthless. He doesn't know how to be gentle. He is exasperated by the slave in red dress. He doesn't want another mate but no one else can have her.Esmeralda is attracted to the king. He acts hot and cold towards her and stirs up emotions she doesn't understand. She has no idea what he wants from her.What does fate have for the innocent slave girl and the ruthless alpha king?

Eva never wanted this life—the roar of engines, the scent of leather and gasoline, the weight of her father's legacy crushing her shoulders. As the only daughter of the Crimson Reapers' president, she's spent years trying to escape the MC world. But when a bloody turf war threatens to destroy both her father's club and the rival Steel Vipers, there's only one way to broker peace: a union sealed in chrome and rebellion. Albert, the ruthless VP of the Steel Vipers, is everything Eva despises—violent, arrogant, and dangerously magnetic. He's got sins tattooed on his knuckles and vengeance carved into his soul. The arranged marriage is a cage for them both, a business deal written in bad blood and broken promises. She's supposed to be his old lady. He's supposed to be her protection. Instead, they're gasoline and matches—combustible, toxic, and one spark away from burning everything down. But as enemies close in and betrayal bleeds through both clubs, Eva and Albert discover that the line between hate and hunger is thinner than they thought.

"I won't get married to him and none of you will make me!" She blurted out in anger and despise. "I won't let you and father do the same thing you did years back." She said, trying not to break down in tears as she clenched her knuckles into a fist. ~ What would you do when after so many years of being away from your family and friends, and then you come back home only to be forced into a marriage? This was the case of Lillian Blake, a young and beautiful lady whose world got shattered when her father forced her to marry a man she knows nothing about. What will happen now that Lillian finally get married to him against her will? Along the line, she finds out a dangerous secret about the people she called her family and it explained everything that has been happening to her right from her childhood. What was this secret? And how would she protect herself from the dangers that comes along this secret?

With the unfortunate event that led Georgia Musni to meet the mafia underboss Primo Bonsignore, a heart-shattering truth surfaced as a result. The ideal and perfect man that Georgia painted her fiance in her mind was tainted black when Primo proved him to be the man that Georgia didn’t think that he is. “You bastard why… did you throw the ring?” voice shaking, Georgia asked as the ball of knuckles in her hands formed. “Because I know very well that you will do the same thing soon.” Grinning ear-to-ear, Primo answered as if he didn’t steal the most valuable thing to her. Primo in fact didn’t lie. Knowing the truth through him changed her judgment of her fiance. Soon enough, they ended up sharing the same goal where they had to look back on the life that they had lived, while subsiding the fact that Primo is a mafia. Taking that into consideration, how would the truth about their lives–especially Georgia’s play in their relationship? Will it make their ties stronger? Or be the reason for them to cut ties?

WARNING: 95% Sex Content/1 She-Wolf Vs 5 Alphas Three years ago, my father betrayed my mother, shattering our lives and forcing us into exile. Now, at seventeen, everything is about to change. My mother has found a second chance—with none other than the famous Alpha Thomas Blackthorn of the powerful Blackridge Pack. She's ready to start over, and I have no choice but to follow her into this new world ruled by dominance, secrets, and desire. *** "I Promise," his voice scraped raw, "I won't fuck you. Not until your wolf wakes." His fingers trailed up my inner thigh, hooking under the lace of my panties. "But you'll help me before that." His body pinned me down, muscles taut, skin scorching. His knee wedged between them, forcing me open. Then his grip tightened, yanking my legs shut again— His cock, flushed and massive, pistoned through the tight clasp of my legs. The swollen head peeked out with every stroke, glistening, filthy. I snapped my eyes shut, but that only heightened everything else— The heat of him. The wet slap of skin. The way my body betrayed me, slick gathering where I shouldn't be wet, a traitorous throb building— Shame. Shame. Shame.

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

Even after more than three years of marriage, Samuel Ferguson still seemed impossible to satisfy. After the third round, he brushed a tear from the corner of Tania Russell's eye, a roguish smile playing at his lips. "Did you cry from the pleasure? Want me to carry you to the shower?" Tania turned her head, avoiding him, her fingers digging into the sheets until her knuckles went white. Steam rolled through the bathroom, wrapping a set of broad shoulders and a narrow waist in a haze of heat — but that heat could not thaw the icy chill in her heart. An hour ago, in the throes of passion, the name "Lulu" had slipped from his lips, and it still lingered in her mind. All those years, he had always called her simply "Tania." After a moment, she wiped her tears, reached for the phone on the bedside table, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Elias, investigate Samuel for me. I think… he's cheating." "A lead?" Elias did not waste time. "He used to call her 'Lulu'".

I watch as he gently places the gun on the table. Seconds tick by a heavy silence filling the room. He takes a stand and makes his way to me. He takes a stance behind my chair and places his firm arms on my armchair, caging me. I bask in his scent and warmth. "You choose now Lana, here and now." He whispers into my ear. His traces my knuckles before grabbing my notebook out of my hands, and tossing it on the table. "I wasn't done with that." I say. He laughs, I feel his chest rumble as he laughs. I turn to face him, feeling my breaths shorten with each passing second. "Eyes on the prize, Lana." He turns my head back towards the table. "You choose the notebook you can go back to living your life in fear and delusion, then one day end up dead in a dumpster or," He brushes a strand of hair from my face, " You could pick up the gun and hunt your past which shall it be Lana?" I feel beads of sweat on my back and my anxiety prickling through my skin. I have to choose, here and now. I extend my hand and pick my choice.

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"