Slip Stories Novels & Stories

When I see Reese Chapman again, it is exactly three years after I sever our mate bond. It is also the third year since I completely seal my wolf and hide at the edge of the Shadow pack territory, living as an insignificant healer. Tonight, the air in the clinic feels heavy and icy under his overwhelming aura. He carries a lightly injured female companion in his arms and forcibly takes over the best VIP ward in the clinic. During my shift, he summons me three times through his guards. The first time, he coldly orders, "There are wolfsbane fragments on the bedsheets. Change them." I send an apprentice herbalist to handle it. Two hours later, he has a nurse relay another order. "The smell

When Rowan Nightshade’s hand struck my face, I did not understand what had happened at first. The sound cracked through the training corridor of Silvermoon Federal Academy. My body tipped to the side, my teeth aching from the force, and for a few seconds all I heard was a dull ringing in my ears. My left cheek went numb, then burned as if molten silver had been poured over it. I covered my face and looked up at him. Rowan Nightshade, heir of the Shadowfang Pack, had slapped me in front of more than a dozen students because I had argued with a transfer girl.

"Do you really think that I'd allow myself to be alone and defenseless even after knowing all of this?" As soon as I finished speaking, the ropes binding my hands were cut by a small hidden knife. I kicked Camden hard, aiming for his weak spot and sending the knife flying. At the same moment, the warehouse doors burst open. Don lunged at me with a knife, but a police officer shot him in the hand, forcing him to drop the weapon. I took the opportunity to kick Nevaeh to the ground and watched as all three of them writhed in pain and screamed.

A long pause, “I’m happy for you. May the moon bless you with many cubs and a lifetime of happiness. I need to go. I’m about to leave for work. And you sound a bit drunk.” “I’m not drunk enough Basil. Wait. I haven’t told you the best part of my story yet. Slade knew from the moment we first met all those years ago. And he rejected me. He’d rather be a lone wolf and give up his whole life than be my mate I’ve lived with him haunting me, inside my head, and now I know why…” I laugh again, though I feel the bitter sting of tears in my eyes. “I’m truly sorry Sloane. That’s fucked up. But why are you telling me all this exactly?”

He slips back inside me, the tip touching the right places, my pussy producing wet and slurpy sounds. “Don’t slow down,” I beg in a small voice. “Please?” My upper lip quivers, and I moan, running the tip of my tongue across my mouth. I grip his hips and urge him faster. “Harder” I whisper in his ear. “Don’t be soft on my pussy”

I replied and she smiled again. "No one would ever believe us or our story. That you married me forcefully. We look more romantic than the couples who have done love marriages." She said and giggled. I chuckled hearing her. She was right. No one would ever believe us. Not our future kids and grandkids. No one would believe our Stupid Love Story.

He was so humiliated that he and his friends spread rumors that I was sleeping around, stringing multiple guys along at the same time. When Sally found out, he went after them one by one. He beat every single one of them until no one dared whisper my name again. One time, the boy who started the rumors called in a few of his friends. After school, they followed Sally down the hallway and shoved him through a floor-to-ceiling window. Sally never saw it coming. His entire body crashed through the glass, and he tumbled to the ground in a shower of broken shards. The fall was not far enough to cause anything serious, but both of his arms were slashed to ribbons by the fragments.

Three thick fingers slid deep inside her, curling with perfect precision against her G-spot while his tongue worked her clit in slow, sensual rhythms. He edged her with masterful patience, bringing her right to the trembling brink again and again — only to pull away completely just as her walls began to flutter desperately. Each denial left her whimpering, thighs quivering, warm nectar dripping slowly down her legs onto the marble floor. By the twelfth edge, Layla was completely broken — tears streaming down her face, body trembling, voice hoarse from begging. “Please, Tariq,” she begged desperately. “I can’t take it anymore. Please let me cum. I’m your riad whore — use me, ruin me!”

"What else would it be?" That simple answer landed like a punch. She swayed. Then stumbled forward a step. It looked like she wanted to grab his sleeve and demand an explanation. Or maybe slap him. In the end, she did neither. She just stood there and laughed. A broken, miserable sound. "You've been waiting for this day the whole time. Back at that nightclub, when she slapped you... that's when you started noticing her, wasn't it?" My fingers tightened. I expected Matt to deny it.

"There was once a shepherd boy who had a mischievous personality. One day, while tending his sheep on the mountain, he got bored and…" Noelle slowed her speech, enunciating every word deliberately. Hendrix didn't interrupt her. He simply sat there, listening as she recounted the entire tale. "The moral of this story is that people who make a habit of lying don't deserve trust. And if they lose everything in the end, they have only themselves to blame," she concluded. Hendrix chuckled. "Is that so? So, you don't trust me. Is that it?"