Short Stories To Read Novels & Stories

Clouderton, Carmoria. Three days after we got our marriage certificate, Jason casually dropped that he'd handed the keys to our new place... to his ex, Nina Zeller. I clenched my jaw. "So you just HAD to give our house key to your poor, delicate ex?" He sighed. "She needed surgery. It was urgent. I'll get it back after." I stared at him. That blank, serious face? I actually laughed. I own a ton of properties. Even my managers have to book time to get in. But Jason? First guy with the nerve to sneak his ex into my home.

Before our wedding, my fiancé, Carlo Vitale—the youngest Don on the East Coast—held a church ceremony with my stepsister. He said, "According to Mafia rules, only the woman who completes the wedding ceremony with me and receives the blessing of all the family is my true wife. "So even if your sister Elena is carrying my child, she's nothing more than a mistress." After the priest's blessing, they exchanged rings. I stood outside the church, watching through a curtain of rain as he kissed another woman. My face was white. I had loved Carlo for twelve years, from the ages of sixteen to twenty-eight. However, he had only ever had my stepsister, Sophia, not me, in his heart. I chose to let him go. Later, I left for Europe. All I left Carlo was a notice of our broken engagement and a parting gift. For some reason, the man who had always treated me with indifference seemed to have aged ten years overnight.

After graduating from a socialite training course, my sister swears to marry into a wealthy family. To create encounters with Pierce Holden, the prince of the upper crust, she drives my car, wanting to tailgate him and run into his car. I slam the brakes and tell her the Holdens aren't fools. We can't afford to pay for Pierce's car, even if we were to give up everything we have. Later, Pierce throws a lavish wedding that stuns the country. My sister goes crazy with jealousy, saying that she would've been the bride if not for me stopping her back then. Out of resentment, she rams her car into me and kills me. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the front passenger seat. My sister smirks confidently, her gaze fixed on the expensive car ahead of us. "I'm sure Pierce will be enchanted by me once he sees me. I won't need to drive a dump like this once I get together with him." This time, I don't stop her. She puts the pedal to the metal, making the car crash against the sports car worth a fortune.

She found out her ex borrowed loan in her name and used the only house her father gave her as a collateral a day before his death so she let his father fuck her in her mourning dress during his funeral service. She caught her hockey captain boyfriend giving bj to his teammate so she stepped walked up to the principal which was his father and dropped her panties in front of him. Caught her husband of five years dryhumping her sister so she signed the divorce papers and fucked her dad before him while he was forced to watch. Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts is a scorching collection of standalone short stories where scorned women turn the ultimate betrayal into their most delicious revenge. After being lied to, cheated on, and discarded like yesterday’s news, these fierce, broken-hearted heroines decide the best way to destroy their exes isn’t violence or drama — it’s pleasure. Raw, forbidden, mind-blowing pleasure in the arms (and bed) of the one man their ex could never compete with: his own father. From the ruthless billionaire patriarch they once feared… to the magnetic silver-fox rival they secretly admired… these older, dominant, dangerously possessive men don’t just give them revenge, they give them passion so intense it rewrites their entire lives. Expect filthy, addictive age-gap erotica packed with power plays, jealous exes losing their minds, family scandals that shake New York’s elite circles, and heroines who walk out of luxurious bedrooms completely transformed — bolder, stronger, and deliciously ruined in the best possible way. Because sometimes, the sweetest revenge isn’t making him cry. It’s making his father moan your name.

Mmm… I’m already so wet and ready for him. My pussy is throbbing, aching with forbidden need. I know it’s so wrong — deliciously taboo — but I can’t stop fantasizing about his thick cock stretching me open. He wants me just as badly… his hungry eyes devouring every inch of my dripping body. Tonight, nothing is going to hold us back. Warning: This book is pure sin. Get ready to soak through the pages. WET AND READY FOR YOU is a scorching collection of filthy, pulse-pounding short stories where desire runs wild and inhibitions drown in raw, dripping pleasure. From forbidden touches that set your skin on fire in the dark to soaking-wet, moan-filled encounters that leave you breathless, clenching, and desperate for more — every story is raw, intense, and unapologetically explicit. These women are drenched, eager, and begging to be claimed hard. These men are rock-hard, dominant, and ready to pound every trembling, slippery inch until you’re shaking with release. No limits. No mercy. Just hot, messy, toe-curling satisfaction that leaves you dripping. If you crave steamy nights, filthy dripping fantasies, and stories so dirty they should come with a towel and a cold shower… then you’re already WET AND READY.

Two years into my marriage with Don Dante, my ex came back. Julian, the man who shattered my heart five years ago. He announced he was getting engaged. And he wanted me as his mistress. "I know I hurt you," he said. "My family looks down on mob ties. It was never going to work. But now? I'm marrying Tiffany. I'm taking over the family empire. I can finally afford to keep you." I just sneered at him. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be married?" He scoffed. "What decent family would have you? The daughter of a mob underboss? Don't be ridiculous." His arrogance made me sick. When I refused, he slapped a black card on the table. Told me to buy whatever I wanted. He said he'd pick me up next week. That we could spend every weekend tangled up in his bed. I spat on the floor at his feet. "Get him out," I told my guard. "And take his trash with him." He didn't get it. Not then. But he would. The moment he found out who I married. I didn't just marry anyone. I married the king of the Chicago underworld. A man he could never touch. And when he finally figured it out, he lost his goddamn mind.

One maiden, one Luna, one drop-dead gorgeous Alpha from hell. It is all Elizabeth Milkhart can think about when she is summoned to the dreaded Blackwood Castle to be a surrogate mate for the infertile Luna, Cassandra Blackwood. Elizabeth believes it had to have been a misunderstanding, humans in the dreaded castle were unheard of, and yet, there she was, bending over and being probed and dressed by the royal consorts for the mysterious Alpha’s viewing. Her presence in the pack causes tension and it is all Elizabeth can do not to run to the hills screaming as she is thrust deeper and deeper into the web of lies and deceit that shrouded the castle, at the center of which was Ezra Blackwood. She knew he wasn't good for her, and yet, Elizabeth finds that try as she might, she just couldn't get the brooding werewolf King with searing gray eyes out of her head. Wild, Quiet, and blonde. That was how Alpha Ezra Blackwood liked his women. It was what had made him settle for the love-torn marriage with Princess Cassandra. He is content to drink his mornings and sulk his nights away until the ravishing redhead falls right into his lap. Literally. Elizabeth Milkhart is the only human the powerful Alpha can't seem to get out of his mind, even when he knows he is bad for her. In and Out like the other surrogates, that was all she had to do right? Wrong. Ezra finds himself falling for the human before long, a fate he wouldn't admit even to himself, vowing to destroy her utterly before it happens and she him.

For the eighteenth time, Samson brought home his new lover and enjoyed their intimacy right in front of me. Knowing he was doing this to get back at me, I just quietly picked up their scattered clothes. Five years ago, Samson was nearly killed in a kidnapping. Ignoring all his desperate pleas, I broke up with him and left the country. Five years later, he became the CEO of a major corporation and used his wealth to keep me at his side as his personal assistant. Every so often, he would bring home a different woman and flaunt their affection in front of me just to humiliate me. Samson never knew that I had saved him from those kidnappers five years ago—and that I was the one who couldn't let go of him. Things went on this way until he brought Judy back. My cousin, someone I had financially supported for years. When Judy proudly stroked her belly and told me she was pregnant with Samson’s baby, I just congratulated her calmly. Then, I turned and made a phone call. “Hello, about that Medical Support Project we discussed? I’ve decided—I’m ready to join.”

I used to be treated like a princess in Lumenclaw Pack. But the first day after my eighteenth birthday, my Alpha dad brought home a charity case—Callie from the welfare center. Everything flipped. Ryell, my own brother, ditched me for her. Jovan, my future mate? Shielded her. Even Dad called her sweet, kind—"a thousand times better than you." Graduation Day. Strike 101. They picked her. Again. "Aren't I your real family?" Dad hesitated—but only to hide Callie behind him like some precious thing. Her fake tears. His real slap. "Such a petty wolf. I wish I'd never had you." Ryell sneered, "Having a sister like you makes me sick. Get out!" I didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just packed and walked. They thought I'd break like always—cry, forgive, crawl back. But not this time. I called my mom. Took her offer. Moved to her distant pack. If they wanted me gone, wish granted. So why the hell did they come begging when they realized I meant it?

I bought an apartment during a market slump, $30,000 below what others had paid for the same layout. I had just finished moving in when Linda Carver, the neighbor across the hall, stormed over. "Same unit, same building, yet you paid $30,000 less than we did. You need to make up the difference!" I froze for a second. She took it as fear and raised her voice, "If you had the guts to snap it up cheap, you’d better be ready to compensate the rest of us. Otherwise, don’t expect to live here in peace." I looked at her, so self-righteous it was almost absurd, and I laughed. I had just been discharged from a psychiatric hospital. Threaten me? If anyone wasn’t going to live in peace, it was her.