Seventh Sister Mods

Joaquin was never the type to get rejected. He has and will always get whatever he wants, including the wife of his late brother. He wanted her, he always do. He had him first but she married him. And now he has the chance of his life, he will have her naked in his bed, moaning his name as they make love. *** Joaquin was known as the cold and merciless Alpha, he grew up with his parents holding him on the neck. They want power, he gave them. They want to be served like royalty, he gave them. He always give what people wants, what his pack wants. He's an Alpha of his words and he will do anything to please anyone. While Fiona, a packless lone wolf who married the Beta of Aragon pack, the pack that was leaded by his brother-in-law, Joaquin. She has always been the center of rumor, a lone wolf like her was a bad news to everyone, including her parents in law. She was neglected, rejected and judged by many. When Her husband died because of the rogues attack, Joaquin was set to follow her wherever she goes, whatever she does. She didn't know his secret and she wouldn't want to know. For Joaquin secretly know she was his mate, and he will do everything to pursue her. He will have her, whatever it may cost.

On her birthday, Giselle Macmillan receives a gift she will never forget. A video of her husband in another woman’s bed. In one brutal moment, her perfect marriage shatters. The love she believed in? A lie. The man she trusted? A stranger. Determined to walk away, Giselle demands a divorce… but Kennedy Macmillan refuses to let her go, tightening his grip like she’s something he owns. And then there’s him. Joseph Macmillan, Ken’s older brother. A billionaire, cold, ruthless, and untouchable. He doesn’t just want her gone. He’s determined to break her until she leaves Ken. But when Giselle’s father collapses from the shock and her husband disappears without a trace, the last person she expects steps in to save her was Joseph. The same man who’s been trying to drive her out of his brother’s life. Now Giselle is trapped between two brothers. One who won’t let her go, and one who might ruin her in ways she never saw coming.

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.

Desire doesn't tempt—it fucking consumes. It sinks its teeth into your morals, rips them apart, and leaves you dripping, desperate, and damned. This isn't romance. This is dark, obsessive, boundary-shattering filth. *Wet, Willing and Forbidden* delivers EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT—throbbing cocks plunging deep, slick cunts clenching in surrender, mouths stretched around forbidden flesh, every raw, graphic thrust laid bare. These stories devour you with: - Obsession teetering on total ruin - Possessive, morally black lovers who brand skin with teeth and ownership - Brutal power exchange—collars, commands, choking grips - Dubious consent that melts resistance into frantic, quivering need - Public risk—fingers curling inside soaked panties in crowded elevators - Exhibitionism & voyeurism—eyes devouring heaving tits and straining cocks - Praise laced with vicious degradation—“good slut” hissed through gritted teeth - Total control, shattering surrender, deliberate corruption of the innocent - Feral, animal hunger—bodies slamming, clawing, flooding with sweat and cum - Secrets that torch reputations and leave lives in smoking ruins - Queer and fluid desire—tangled limbs, shared mouths, no rules - Toxic emotional manipulation—love as poison, addiction as chains Every page pulses with predatory chemistry and psychological heat. No safe words. No gentle aftercare. Just the brutal thrill of crossing lines that should never be touched. If your pulse isn't already racing and your thighs aren't already slick open this book anyway. Because once the craving takes hold, you'll be too far gone to stop.

It's my seventh year of secretly dating Liam Ferguson, my brother's friend. We're about to have our marking ceremony soon. I happily prepare for it, wanting to surprise him. However, during a gathering with friends, I accidentally overhear something. "If you ask me, there's no denying Alpha Liam's good looks and charm. To think he managed to make the Silver Snow pack's Alpha's sister his stand-in lover and bed partner!" "What are you going to do with Maya now that Nina's back, Liam? Andrew won't let you off the hook if he finds out you've been fooling around with his sister…" The following day, Liam takes me to Nina White's welcome-back party. He's gentle, considerate, and affectionate with me. His love for me seems so deep that I wonder whether I'm imagining things. Then, Nina "accidentally" spills scalding soup on my arm and runs out in tears. I'm the injured one, but she feels wronged. However, Liam shoves me aside and runs after her in a panic. I return home with a burned arm and open the door to the basement—Liam has never allowed me in there. I see Nina's photos plastered on the walls. There are even photos of them doing the deed in various positions. He looks so wild. I call Andrew with a heart full of despair. "I've made up my mind about the marriage with the Alpha heir of the Storm Tribe. I'll do it!"

I've planned seven wedding ceremonies in total, and not once has my fiance, Zachary Gardner, ever shown up for it. The first time, his adopted younger sister, Louise Foster, bursts into tears because she lost her passport at the airport. It was the dead of winter, but he dumped me by the side of the road and left me. The second time, Louise's dog sprained its ankle. Zachary stuffed the ring back into its box and rushed to the animal hospital to accompany her. Every time I argue with him about it, he declares nonchalantly, "We can get married anytime, but I can't let Louise be upset." Everyone around us agrees with him, saying that we're all family anyway, so I shouldn't be so petty. None of them has seen Zachary and Louise kissing fiercely on the dance floor. Today is the seventh wedding ceremony. Once again, he turns to leave after getting a call. I grab the corner of his shirt and say in a choked voice, "If you leave this time, Zachary, I won't marry you anymore." He stops in his tracks and peels off my fingers. "Wait for me," he says before rushing off. What he doesn't know is that this time, I won't be waiting for him any longer.

Charles Jansen's true love returns to the country in my seventh year with him. The first post on her social media after she lands is an intimate photo of them together. She captions it, "I'm glad we've come full circle." Only then do I find out the ring hidden in the living room isn't for me. Charles' proposal isn't for me, either. Suddenly, I feel exhausted.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

I discovered two things after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. I was first on what appeared to be a fake marriage certificate with Julian Fitzgerald. I had raised my son for six years, and he was already aware of it. In fact, he wanted his mother to be someone else. It was then that I realised my life was just a hoax. Seven years of not being in touch with my family, keeping myself solitary and making sacrifices but it was all just plain cruel. So, I did three things. The husband and son who had betrayed me, I went missing. In preparation for our seventh wedding anniversary, I called off the romantic dinner reservation made a month ago. Besides my participation in several health-related group discussions, I also left my son's kindergarten parent groups. These groups were all designed to improve the well-being of my husband and son. My second action was to contact my physician and request a stress evaluation. I requested a special prescription to prevent any complications that might arise during my international travel. The third person I contacted was my older sister, whom she had not been in touch with for seven years. My words were, "To marry in a place where I don't belong to my family is just miserable."

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]