Slow Bleeding Pigs

He’s supposed to protect him. Not fall for him. Not break him. Not save him. Noah Cross doesn’t believe in second chances—not for himself, and definitely not for the spoiled billionaire brat he’s been hired to protect. Cold. Dangerous. Untouchable. That’s how Noah survived the battlefield, and it’s how he plans to survive this assignment. But Adrian Vale is nothing like Noah expected. Behind the designer suits and reckless scandals hides a shattered man with too many secrets and not enough people he can trust. Secrets that could get them both killed. When a failed assassination attempt forces Noah and Adrian into close quarters, sparks fly where bullets once did. Enemies turn to reluctant allies, bodyguard turns into something much more dangerous… and hearts begin to betray them both. But loving Adrian means crossing lines Noah swore he’d never break again. And protecting him? Might cost Noah his life. 💥 Enemies to Lovers 💥 Billionaire x Bodyguard 💥 Forced Proximity 💥 Forbidden Romance 💥 Slow Burn, High Heat 💥 Hurt/Comfort, Found Family 💥 HEA, but not without bloodshed Love was never part of the job. But Adrian Vale just made survival impossible without it.

Betrayed. Broken. Stripped of everything she once called hers. Elysia Sinclair thought she had already lost it all—until she lost the one thing that truly mattered. Her baby. Left bleeding and abandoned in a cold hospital room, she swore revenge. But what could a woman with nothing do against the man who destroyed her? Enter Adrian Blackwood. Ruthless, calculating, and as dangerous as they come. He doesn’t do charity. He doesn’t do kindness. But when he looks at Elysia, he sees something more—something raw, something familiar. "Sign these papers, leave him, and marry me," he says, his voice a dark promise. "I'll help you get your revenge." It’s a deal with the devil himself, but Elysia is too shattered to refuse. One signature, and she goes from the discarded ex-wife of a billionaire to the new bride of a man even more powerful. But Adrian didn’t just want a wife. He wanted her. And as he slides his ring onto her finger in front of the man who betrayed her, a shiver runs down her spine. Because in Adrian’s eyes, this isn’t just a contract—it’s possession. Now, tangled in his world of power plays and whispered threats, Elysia must ask herself— Is she using Adrian to destroy her past? Or is he using her to rewrite his own? One thing is certain: when you strike a deal with the devil, there’s no turning back.

"You ignore me, you don't want me, you don't touch me, you don't fuck me, and then you come at me with this weak threat just because I danced with someone else at the party?" I managed to push out the words, "Let's face it, you're not going to do a damn thing and just keep playing saint-maybe your machine has rusted after all these years of being without a mate." His jaw tensed, and his fingers dug into my skin, but then a low, husky chuckle escaped him. "You really enjoy pushing boundaries, don't you?" His free hand traced a slow path down between us and he suddenly cupped my pussy causing a gasp to slip past my lips, "Just so you know, Poppet-I have a lot of respect for you, but in the next hour, I'm going to make you forget that I ever respected you at all." Before I could retort, his lips brushed against my ear, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Brace yourself-because I am about to fuck you like my whore and I'll show you just how well this machine still fucking works." *** When Aurora Steel's mate cheats on her with her best friend just before their mating ceremony, her world shatters. But....Just as she hits rock bottom, a familiar face reappears in their pack-the Alpha of Darkclaw Clan, Jaxon Blackwood, her father's friend, and...the crush she'd long buried. And suddenly it seems there is no better choice for revenge against her cheating mate than letting a hot, cold, and older alpha fuck her. But in the world of revenge, betrayal, illicit desires, and forbidden temptation, an affair hidden from everyone with an Alpha like Jaxon is anything but a wise choice, isn't it?

In Black Salt, love is a sickness you can’t hide—a slow gnawing beneath the skin that leaves you hollowed, grayed, and eventually gone. No one stays long enough to see it through; they leave before the rot finishes its work. It’s what the town teaches you: when it starts, you run. You look away. You survive by pretending not to feel. But Atlas is tired of pretending. The halls of Black Salt High are full of kids pretending they don’t see each other’s bruised hearts, pretending their bones aren’t already whispering warnings. Still, he can’t forget the weight of a father who stayed—not out of love, but because he never felt it deep enough to decay. That truth lingers in Atlas like a second shadow. And then there’s Nova—the outsider with a storm in her bones. And Wren, all sharpness and fight. Milo, who cracks jokes to keep the silence at bay. Luce, who wears her thorns like jewelry. Together, they don’t know how to stop the rot. But they’re learning how to sit with it, how to name it, how to refuse the small, hollow deaths of pretending not to care. In a town where love is a death sentence, staying might be the bravest thing of all.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

Her back arched as Gabriel’s fingers tightened around her waist, holding her steady while Paxton’s mouth moved lower, his breath hot against her inner thigh. “You don’t get to run from this,” Gabriel growled against her throat, his voice like silk over steel. “Not from us.” Carlotta moaned, helpless between their bodies. Gabriel was behind her, his hand tangled in her hair, lips claiming the curve of her neck. His hardness pressed against her from behind while Paxton knelt in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs like he owned them. Like he owned her. “I never said I wanted to run,” she breathed, lost in the pull of them both. Paxton smirked, his lips glistening. “Then let us wreck you.” And they did. Gabriel entered her from behind with a rough, punishing thrust, forcing a cry from her lips that was swallowed by Paxton’s kiss. She was sandwiched between them. Gabriel’s deep, commanding rhythm; Paxton’s slow, sinful teasing as his mouth roamed down her chest, taking his time with her breasts. The heat built fast. Her body trembled with each movement, the slick slide of skin on skin, their grunts, her gasps. Her fingers clawed at Paxton’s chest while Gabriel gripped her hips tighter, his voice a snarl against her skin. “You like being ruined by both of us?” Gabriel asked. “She loves it,” Paxton answered for her, licking a line up her stomach. “Don’t you, baby?” Carlotta couldn’t speak. Her climax crashed through her like a lightning strike, sharp, explosive, raw. Her moan echoed in the room, vibrating against Paxton’s lips, as Gabriel cursed and followed right after her. For a moment, everything stilled. Their bodies tangled. Their heartbeats synced. Then… She gasped awake.

“You’re drunk,” he said, smirking. “Yeah,” she admitted, then reached out and touched his shirt. “But I still want to have sex with you.” Vincenzo tilted his head slightly, like he was studying a new toy. "You were about to go after my bodyguard, huh?" he said. His fingers suddenly cupped her breast, slow and confident. “And yet, you look more like a virgin than a pervert.” That sobered her up a bit. “I—what?” Before she could say anything else, she blurted, “I want to have sex with you. I’m all yours tonight.” Vincenzo raised a brow, then smiled. “If that’s what you want.” He stood up, lifted her into his arms effortlessly, and carried her through a side door. Her arms looped around his neck as her heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. He kicked open a private room. Inside, he pressed her against the wall and kissed her—hot, commanding, full of hunger. She melted into it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t care who she was supposed to be. She was just a girl kissing a stranger.

It was Hana Verlice’s engagement party — but the only thing she could think about was that night six months ago. The night Dante Carter pinned her against the backseat window of his car,cheeks pressed to the glass, her dress lifted to her waists, with his mouth buried between her legs. Now, she was hours away from marrying his older brother. Elijah Osborne Carter — the perfect man, heir to Osborne Pharmaceuticals, and her father’s last hope of saving their crumbling empire. But as she slipped into her designer dress, her mind couldn't stop thinking about the one man she could never have. Dante. The mistake she was supposed to forget. The temptation she swore never to touch again. The younger brother who disappeared after that night and was never supposed to come back. But as she stepped out of her dressing room to join her soon-to-be husband at the party, there he was. Leaning at the foot of the stairs like raw sin. Messy hair. Dark eyes. That cocky mouth that once had her moaning his name in ecstacy. Her pulse quickened as her knees threatened to give out. She tried to breathe. To stay still. But one look at him… and she knew she was in trouble. “What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice barely holding. He smirked, slow and knowing as his gaze dropped shamelessly to her lips. “Did you miss me, cookie?”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You can go home and cry over your ex, or you can come with me.” Anna swallowed. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. “I’m not asking for anything you don’t want,” he added. “But if you want to stop thinking about him, I’ll help you do that.” “Okay,” she replied. He moved closer to Anna, slow but sure, closing the space between them. His hand came up, firm and unhurried, gripping her jaw. His fingers were warm, slightly calloused. He tilted her face up, making her look at him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice low and commanding. Anna swallowed, her pulse racing as she replied. “Yes. I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget about him.” *************************************** Anna Hawkins was never meant to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain dragged her into the shadows of a nightclub and into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that ruined her. Their night was supposed to mean nothing. But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of power, crime, and possession. She’s no longer just heartbroken. She’s owned. And the most dangerous part? She doesn’t know how to escape.

They called her wolfless. Cursed. Unworthy of the bond. So they stripped her of dignity, broke the mate-thread with a smirk, and left her bleeding at the edge of the sacred woods. But they forgot one thing. Ash remembers. And so does the throne buried beneath it. The forest did not devour her. It bowed. The flame did not die. It waited. And in the silence between heartbeats, something unholy crawled up from the marrow of forgotten gods and whispered: > "She is not blessed. She is not chosen. She is the reckoning the moon tried to silence." Now, Araya walks again — no longer mortal. No longer meek. She is the Hollow-Blood reborn. Daughter of the fire that swallowed fate. And the last heir to a throne no god dares name. He broke the bond. He walked away. But the fire he abandoned now walks in human skin — and it has learned to burn without mercy. As divine war brews, as temples crack and oracles scream her name, she must decide: Will she burn the wolves who left her behind? Or the gods who tried to chain her flame? Either way... > She does not kneel. She does not forgive. She remembers. And the last prophecy carved into stone will soon come true: > THE FLAME THAT WALKS RETURNS. LET THE GODS BURN FIRST.