Smut Reads

OWEN GARCIA is the twin brother of RUSSELL ROSSELL (heir of the billionaire Theodore Rossell), kidnapped by NURSE GEMMA GARCIA. SHELLEY SILVER is a woman who dreams to be a novelist but received rejections one after another. Till she met and became friends with Russell Rossell who pretended to be an ordinary employee from the company of Theodore Rossel. He has a knack for writing and suggested that be the ghostwriter of Shelley and she readily agreed. Russel Rossell was hospitalized due to a car accident. That was the time Owen entered the life of Shelley, and pretended to be Russel Rossell. Like Russel Rossell, Owen also has a knack for writing novels, thus, Shelley wasn't able to know the difference between the twins. Gemma Garcia learned about Russell accident, and planned to use "her son" to get inside the Rossell Clan. Since he loved "his mother" Owen agreed to Gemma's plan. But they say, blood is thicker than water, hence, Owen felt pity for his twin brother when he met Joanne (acting as Russel Rossell, boyfriend of Joanne) and found out that Joanne is in relation with Brendon, the stepson of Theodore, who also masterminded the car accident of Russel. Thus, Russell Owen wrote a novel that divulged the crime of Brendon and requested Shelley to send copies to Theodore Rossell. Shocked, as he reads the book, Theodore ordered an investigation of his son's accident. And Brendon was sent to prison. The lives of Russel, Owen, Gemma, Shelley, and Theodore get tangled up till Theodore finds out that Owen is the twin brother of his son (by DNA). Now Shelley's Dilemma is who does she really love? Is it Russel Rosell who she loved the very first time she saw him or Owen, the mistaken identity of Russell Rossell?

It's the tenth anniversary of my bonding with my warrior mate, Owen Chase, and also our son Leo's birthday. A month earlier, I spent $8000 arranging a trip to the Blood Moon Forest. I plan to take my mate and pup to the Moon Goddess' sacred grounds to receive her blessings. This is supposed to be a happy anniversary celebration for our complete werewolf family. I've prepared everything and booked tickets for the Twilight Coach. But on the night before our departure, Owen and Leo suddenly block our mind-link. "Dad and I are having dinner with Ms. Emma on the 24th floor of Moonlight Restaurant. We've cancelled the tickets—we're not going." The call ends there. They promptly block my number as well. I rush back to our pack overnight, only to find that the security system no longer recognizes me. That night, every household locks its doors and activates protective barriers against the toxic mist of the Silver Mines in the nearby Moonveil Valley, while I could only huddle on the stone steps outside our house, inhaling the silver-laden fog all night. The poisonous substances flood my systems. I am sent to the hospital, burning with fever as my wolf grows weaker with every labored breath. Meanwhile, my family is busy touring Central City with Emma Skinner, spending the money I had worked so hard to earn. Owen posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Emma, my mate Owen, and my child Leo stand hand-in-hand in front of the wishing fountain in Central City, all smiling brightly. The caption reads: "A perfect trip, a perfect family of three." It is only then that I finally understand—this family exists in name only. It's time for me to rebuild my life.

"Get on the bed Elowen" His voice sliced through me in a command, silencing every protest in my throat. I climbed onto the king's-sized bed without a word, my pulse thundering as he unbuckled his belt from his trousers once more. My heart hammered wildly, skipping beats, and I opened my mouth to defend myself. "I came to talk to you about—" But he seized my wrists like they were nothing, binding them tight with the leather strap until I couldn't budge an inch. "You came here to let me teach you something filthy, didn't you? Tutoring my daughter isn't enough—you want lessons in boundaries too, right?" I shook my head frantically, but he loomed over me, those piercing Alpha eyes boring into my soul. His fingers pinched my n#ppl£s through my shirt, twisting just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain-laced pleasure straight to my cor£. ***** After her Pack was raided by the Lycan King of a dangerous Pack, she fled and got into the arms of a good Samaritan who took her in and nurtured her as their daughter, She finished her degree in college and became a teacher in the famous School in Ashvielle Pack until the day she was chosen to tutor the Alpha's daughter but a lot changed when she wasn't just tutoring her the Alpha's daughter, She was being tutored by the Alpha after stepping into a forbidden room that was sacred, What's worse? She's mated to him and the Alpha's friends, when the sons returned from their trip overseas, they wanted to have her too. She doesn't know how to escape or flee from this entanglement. Warning: Strictly Contains Smut, Reverse Harem MM, MMF and some trigger degrading words.

I bought expensive red lingerie to save my marriage. When I got home on Christmas Eve, I found my husband on his knees with his face buried between another man's legs. I ran. Bought a plane ticket to anywhere. Ended up crying in the airplane bathroom where the most gorgeous man I've ever seen found me. One thing led to another, and he bent me over that sink and gave me the best sex of my life. Turns out he's Knox Volkov. The Lycan King. My husband's boss. The most powerful and ruthless alpha alive. When we landed, he looked me dead in the eye and said he had a proposition for me. One that would let me get revenge on my cheating husband while experiencing pleasure I never knew existed. The catch? Be his fake girlfriend for one week at the Christmas Summit. For seven days, I'd be completely his. I should have said no. But I was hurt and angry and desperate to feel wanted again. So I said yes. But on one condition—he has to make me come every single time. He agreed with a wicked smile. But what happens when the fake starts feeling real? When I'm falling for a man who's sworn he'll never love or take a mate again? When his rules are no emotions, no strings, no forever—but my heart doesn't care about his rules? What happens when the seven days end and he's supposed to let me go? TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING (18+) WARNING: THIS IS A CHRISTMAS EROTICA WITH SO MUCH SMUT AND JUST ENOUGH PLOT. GET THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS.

Being the only human in a school full of supernatural beings is hard. But being fated to the son of the Alpha your father killed? That’s a death sentence. ******** Carnemore Academy was never meant for someone like Claire: the daughter of a head hunter who used to kill supernaturals in the past. But when the peace treaty between hunters and supernaturals start to crack, she’s sent straight to the heart of danger— a school where everyone hates her and wants her dead. No one despises her more than Zane Wolfe Ravenscroft, her mate and the son of the Alpha her father murdered. And then there’s Caius Valerius, a vampire prince who should hate her just as much, only he doesn’t. And Lorien Feyrune, the Fae prince with a shattered heart and dangerous obsession. As Claire navigates the dangers of Carnemore and her complex relationships, more secrets about her father is revealed. Now, she must choose. Duty or desire? Family or fate? Love or survival? Because in Carnemore, secrets are deadlier than silver bullets. And some bonds were never meant to be broken. ************* Her stomach twisted, her nails digging into her palms. “You rejected me,” she reminded Zane, her throat tightening around the words. “You didn’t want me, remember?” “That doesn’t change anything.” Her heart pounded. “It changes everything.” He reached up, brushing his fingers against her jaw, tilting her chin so she couldn’t look away. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re my toy, Claire.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. “And I’m the only one who gets to play with you.” ************ This book is rated 18+. Fantasy Romance Morally Grey ML Smut Bullying Violence No Reverse Harem

"Crawl to Daddy on your hands and knees, little whore. I want to see you beg for this dick before I split you open and breed that dripping cunt." * Daddy's Naughty Pet is a collection for readers who are tired of vanilla bullshit and want stories about people who fuck like their lives depend on it. Five chapters each of the raunchiest, most depraved scenarios that'll make you wet, hard, and wondering what's wrong with you for loving it. The stepmom who "accidentally" walks in on her stepson jerking off and decides to help. The personal assistant who schedules "meetings" that are really just fuck sessions on the conference table. The priest who breaks his vows with a parishioner in the confessional. The doctor who gives very hands-on examinations. The landlord who demands payment in pussy. The mechanic who test-drives more than cars. The massage therapist with wandering hands. The yoga instructor who teaches flexible positions for other reasons. The lifeguard who performs mouth-to-mouth that turns into face-fucking. The uber driver who takes a detour. Every character is controlled by their cravings. The married woman sneaking out to get railed by her ex because her husband's dick doesn't satisfy. The college girl who fucks her entire fraternity in one night. The businessman who keeps a submissive locked in his penthouse. These stories don't have plot—they have positions. No character development—just hole development. No emotional connection—just physical fucking that leaves them sore, sticky, and immediately ready for round two. Expect: Every depraved kink you can imagine and some you didn't know existed. This collection is shameless, filthy, degenerate smut with zero redeeming qualities. And that's exactly why you'll devour every word. Ready! Now flip that page like the good little girl you are.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

The things we want are so very rarely the things we need. Clifton Heights, a modest Adirondack town, offers many unique attractions. Arcane Delights sells both paperbacks and hard-to-find limited editions. The Skylark Diner serves the best home-cooked meals around, with friendly service and a smile. Every August, Mr. Jingo’s County Fair visits, to the delight of children and adults. In essence, Clifton Heights is the quintessential small American town. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone is treated like family. It is quiet, simple, and peaceful. But shadows linger here. Flitting in dark corners, from the corner of the eye. If you walk down Main Street after dark, the slight scrape of shoes on asphalt whispers you're not alone, but when you look over your shoulder, no one is there. The moon shines high and bright in the night sky, but instead of throwing light, it only seems to make the shadows lengthen. Children disappear. Teens run away. Hunters get lost in the woods with frightening regularity. Husbands go mad, and wives vanish in the dead of night. And still, when the sun rises in the morning, you are greeted by townspeople with warm waves and friendly smiles, and the shivers pass as everything seems fresh and new... Until night falls once more. Handy's Pawn and Thrift sits several blocks down from Arcane Delights. Like any thrift store, its wares range from the mundane to the bizarre. By daylight, it seems just another slice of small town Americana. But in its window hangs a sign which reads: We Have Things You Need. And when a lonely traveling salesman comes looking for something he desperately wants, after normal visiting hours, after night has fallen, he will face a harsh truth among the shelves of Handy’s Pawn and Thrift: the things we want are rarely the things we need. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

SMUT WARNING!! : This book isn't sweet romance. It's filthy, raw and unapologetically dark. Expect: *Three brothers who don’t know the meaning of gentle.* *A heroine who moans even when she swears she won’t.* *Fingers, tongues, and c*cks where she least expects them.* ~~~♠~~~ “Spread wider, Angel,” Zane growled against my ear, his fingers ruthless between my thighs. Ziven's c*ck shoved deep down my throat, hot, thick and massive. “Right there. Open up and take it like the filthy tease you've been." And behind me, Zarek drove into me deeper, pounding and claiming every inch. “Feel that? Dripping wet. Doesn’t matter how hard I pound—she’ll still take more. She’s fucking built for it. Our c*cks.” I begged desperately— clenching, gushing, and trembling through every thrust and claim. I never thought I'd crave this— three brothers who claimed me, ruined me, and made me beg for more. But I do. God, I do. My name is Zayla Everly Hollis. I died the night I married Lugard Blade. He broke me and killed me. But fate brought me back. Given a second chance, I ran. Straight into the arms of the three most powerful men in Chicago. THE MADDOX BROTHERS. ZIVEN. Commanding, brilliant, and dangerous with a keyboard. ZAREK. Cold, ruthless, and sharp as glass. ZANE. Charming, wicked, and heartbreak in human form. They offered me safety. Then they became my obsession. Now they’re my only protection from the monster I once called husband. But with three billionaires wanting one broken girl, hearts will shatter. And when the past comes knocking… I’ll have to choose between revenge—and the triplets who made me feel alive again.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.