Sloppy Seconds

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.

“Just as pathetic as I remember you to be, sweetheart.” “I sleep with you because I’m unfortunate to be married to you so don’t bother reading between the lines.” Slapping his treacherous lips away from my own, I huff frantically. “I detest the sight of you, bastard.” He smirks throwing me against the filthy wall of the cave before whispering against my lips, “I know, sweetheart.” Fisting his shirt, I pull him in, “I’ll kill you someday for all your bullshit. The best part is I’ll be hailed as a hero for it.” I dig my nails into his side while digging my heels in his toes. Chuckling, he kissed me with a novel fervour. Too consumed with his taste on my tongue I don’t realize he had taken me off the floor. In times like these he made his hate achingly obvious by his rough groping. When after several seconds he is still ravaging my mouth, I slap his arm to gasp for air but he takes his sweet time devouring life out of me. He let me go only when my life flashes before my eyes. Caressing my hair as I huffed out puffs of air, he smirked. “Good Morning, Nafasm.” I'll remember to add getting away with murder on my bucket list. .... I had everything in life figured out and about half a year to get out of college and finally experience life (Breathy tone) but that's when Sienna, my bitch of a friend, asked me for a favor. Why the hell am I kidnapped? And what is with these people growling like rabid dogs? And please, can anyone tell me why the f*ck, AM I GETTING MARRIED TO THEIR HUNK OF A GANG LEADER WITH UNNATURAL GLOWING EYES?

Excerpt; Mate!” I placed a shocked hand over my mouth. I hadn't intended to blurt that out, but it had just happened. My wolf had just growled that out. Aaron was my mate? So he had not been lying when he’d said I was his mate? This was the strangest thing to have ever happened to me. I had no idea how to respond, I sat still, watching him. “Finally, you agree too.” His face was blanketed in some emotions that had something within my chest moving funny. “I…I…” I swallowed, my gaze transfixed on him, in his eyes, unable to look anywhere else. His sterling grey eyes staring as though they could see through my soul. He drew nearer, I felt my body leaning towards him too. And in seconds our lips had locked on each other’s. Fire exploded in my mouth down to the other parts of my body. I wound my arm around his neck, taking the kiss deeper. Even within the confines of the car where body contact was limited, I was still feeling the flame of attraction burning me up greedily, eating away at my resistance and rationality. His thumb trailed over my breast, the moan that escaped my lips was involuntary and the liquid pull below my stomach grew intense. Abruptly, he broke off the kiss, our lips were a swollen evidence of what had happened. “Let me take you inside.” Humiliated for almost all her life and then thrown out of the pack she had grown to call home, she didn't expect that fate could ever smile at her. Once a taunted girl, now an Alpha's stepdaughter. What more does fate have in stall for her? "Hey mate! Wanna play?"

A group of armed robbers ambush the kindergarten, resulting in my son, Finn Hart, becoming a hostage. A ticking time bomb is strapped to his tiny body afterward. My husband, Nolan Hart, also known as the best bomb disposal expert in the whole nation, arrives at the scene immediately. Meanwhile, I stand by the monitor in the command van, my eyes glued to the screen. I can see a burlap sack covering Finn's head. My poor son is trembling violently out of fear. But once Nolan and his assistant-slash-first love, Summer Castellano, enter the scene, the latter actually has the guts to ask for permission to dispose of the bomb. "Nolan, let me have a taste of what it feels like to be a heroine who gets to save lives. Is that okay?" As Nolan gazes at Summer, he flashes a doting smile at her. "Go ahead. You can just cut the red wire. Don't worry, if anything happens, I'll face the consequences on your behalf." Summer reaches out with her scissors excitedly and snips the blue wire without hesitation. The next thing everyone knows, the countdown on Finn's bomb shifts from ten minutes to ten seconds instantly. Both Nolan and Summer's expressions change drastically. They quickly turn tail and flee the scene. On the other hand, my eyes go as wide as dinner plates at the turn of events. Just as I'm about to rush into the kindergarten, I feel a tiny hand grabbing the hem of my shirt forcefully. "Mommy, Daddy will save Wyatt, right?" I look down to see Finn, who's standing right next to me. For a moment, my mind goes blank. Suddenly, I recall having heard him telling me when he called me with his smartwatch earlier today. "Mommy, Wyatt insisted on swapping clothes with me. He said my new sportswear looks better than his!" Wyatt Castellano is Summer's son… as well as Finn's half-brother.

I slammed the bathroom door, desperate for thirty seconds of peace without feeling their overwhelming presence. They were waiting when I came out. Hunter leaned against the wall looking annoyingly perfect, Zane was already smirking, and Seth had the decency to look slightly guilty. "I can't even pee without one of you stalking me," I snapped. "Don't blame me," Hunter said, hands up. "That's all Seth." "Hey!" Seth protested. "Dude, you literally tracked her scent to the library yesterday like some creepy bloodhound." Zane stepped closer, his voice dropping low. "In his defense, you smell amazing. Like rain and something wild. It's... distracting." Heat flashed through me at his words. This was my new reality—three devastatingly hot guys who wouldn't leave me alone. The scary part? I was starting to like it. **** Two years ago, when Dad got stripped of his Alpha title for breaking pack law, we were exiled to a crappy apartment on the wrong side of town. I thought my life sucked before, but this was a whole new level of hell. At academy, I'm the girl everyone avoids. Bad luck follows me everywhere, or so they think. Perfect target for bullies, especially my stepsister Cessy. She's everything I'm not—head cheerleader, gorgeous, popular. While she's the golden child at home and school, I'm her personal 'unpaid' assistant. Then everything changed on my eighteenth birthday. I found my mates. Not just one, but three. The Blackwood Trio: Hunter, Seth, and Zane. Hockey gods, gorgeous Alphas, the most wanted guys at school. Every girl dreams about them, every guy wants to be them. And somehow, impossibly, they're mine. Of course, nothing's ever simple in my life. Three mates means three times the drama, three times the possessiveness, and way more heat than I know how to handle.

Nagising si Cresia sa nakakasilaw na liwanag. Iginala niya ang paningin. She found myself lying on the cold ground. Huling naalala niya, habang pabalik siya sa condo... may nakita siyang batang babae sa kabilang bahagi ng kalsada. The girl was about to get hit by a car but she saved her. Bumangon siya at muling iginala ang tingin sa paligid. Nasaan na ang batang iniligtas niya? Where is she now? Napapikit siya nang tamaan ang mata ng sinag ng araw. Fuck. At bakit umaga na? Nakatulog ba siya sa daan? Ibinaba niya ang tingin sa sarili. She remember she was covered with blood. But how come she was perfectly fine now? Walang anumang bahid ng dugo ang damit niya... Iginalaw ni Cresia ang kamay. Wala siyang naramdamang anumang masakit doon. Nanlaki ang mga mata niya nang makita ang isang paparating na truck. Fuck! Her first instinct is to run. But it is too late. The truck is only meters away from her. Mariin niyang ipinikit ang mga mata at hinintay ang pagtama niyon sa kanya... But seconds passed. Nothing happened. Walang truck na tumama sa kanya. Bakit? Dahan-dahang idinilat ni Cresia ang mga mata. Wala na ang truck. Bakit? Anong nangyari? Muli niyang inalala ang nangyari kagabi... She was fucking sure she got hit by a car. Hindi kaya...hindi kaya...patay na siya? "Not yet." Isang lalaki ang biglang sumulpot sa tabi niya. Para itong galing sa libing sa suot na damit. Black cape, black pants, black shoes. Everything is black. Even his eyes. They're as dark as his outfit. "S-sino ka?" He smiled to her. Hindi alam ni Cresia kung bakit kinilabutan siya sa ngiti ng lalaki. "I'm Kairos. Your death angel." Death angel? "What? I... I'm...I'm dead?"

🔞🔞🔞 My name doesn't matter. My filthy urges do. I came home from work. The bedroom door was half open. My husband was there, pounding into some woman on our bed, his cock slamming in and out, deep and rough. I should have screamed. Instead my pussy clenched hard. I stood frozen, watching every thrust. My hand slipped under my skirt on its own. Fingers circled my clit as he fucked her right in front of me. He glanced over. “You like watching my cock stretch her?” I rubbed faster. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. Then I came shaking, eyes locked on him pounding her. *** 69 Dripping Fantasies is sixty-nine raw taboo stories. Wives catching husbands cheating and getting soaked instead of angry. Step-family secrets whispered in quiet. Glory holes that fill fast. Honeymoon wife swaps sparked by one dumb dare. Older rich men taking total control. Professors crossing every forbidden line. Husband’s best friends sneaking in. Strangers who follow, then fuck hard. Group nights in dark clubs. Cucks cleaning up every last drop. *** I’m on my knees. One thick cock buried deep in my throat, making me gag. The woman behind me squeezes my tits until it hurts so good. Her tongue between my ass, teasing, no cock has filled my pussy or ass yet. But I’m trembling, dripping, seconds from squirting everywhere. Two massive black cocks wait their turn, and her presence makes it filthier… hotter. I never knew I craved this so badly. *** No soft romance. Just dirty yeses where no should be. Sixty-nine stories. Sixty-nine surrenders. Read if you’re brave. These pages might leave you wet, jealous, horny… or secretly think of your own filthy fantasies when nobody’s watching. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.