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The Devil's Viking (The Road Devils Motorcycle Club 3)

The Devil's Viking (The Road Devils Motorcycle Club 3)

So it appeared that she was to start paying her way on her back with this absolutely massive, broad-shouldered, tattooed, aptly-named wild warrior. Gideon was a large man, but this modern viking put him to serious physical shame; if Gideon’s dick had split her in half in agony, Iris could only imagine what this monster’s cock would do to her. She just hoped that he left her able to walk… and able to fuck the rest of the boys downstairs, because of course they’d be close behind. She knew there would be blood soaking and staining her thighs before things were done, long before they decided that they’d used her up. Stopping her jumbled thoughts, Iris slowly lowered herself to her knees. **** Liam “Viking” Callahan thought the job was done. Evidence buried. Debt paid to The Road Devils MC. Then he drives out of the Utah mountains with a secret in the back of his van: a terrified woman running for her life. Iris has spent six months planning her escape from Gideon and the Garden of Divine Light. She’s barefoot, freezing, and desperate enough to gamble on a stranger who looks dangerous... but still safer than the hell she left behind. So she hides. And prays. When the Road Devils discover Iris, the truth unravels: a cult, a tyrant, and a woman who fled into a winter night wearing nothing but a nightgown and borrowed boots. She’s broken, but not defeated. Iris wants her life back... her body, her choices, her fearlessness. The only man she feels safe with is the towering, gentle Viking. As trust turns into desire, neither of them sees the danger closing in. Gideon wants his “property” returned... and he won’t stop until he gets it.
102.3K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 81 Times as split fiction ao3
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Reborn: I Refuse to Bear My Stepbrother's Pain

Reborn: I Refuse to Bear My Stepbrother's Pain

My lazy stepbrother, Derek Lane, suddenly becomes the hardest-working person in the village. He cuts weeds, carries buckets of manure, and works the fields. Nothing seems too difficult for him. But while he works, cuts suddenly appear on my hands. The carrying pole rubs my shoulders raw. Even the soles of my feet split open. I have no idea what kind of dark magic he uses, but every injury he suffers is somehow transferred onto me. After spending an entire day laboring under the blazing sun, he remains full of energy. Meanwhile, I collapse from heatstroke. I tell Dad to stop Derek from working in the fields. Instead of listening to me, Dad drags me to the village square and publicly lambasts me in front of all the villagers. He scolds, "You still think you're some spoiled boy who came from the city? Not only are you too lazy to work, but you're even spreading lies that Derek is using black magic!" From that day on, Derek works even harder. But at the same time, I can no longer work in the fields at all with my body covered in injuries. A week later, he's named the village's "Farmer of the Year". Thanks to that title, he earns the chance to head to the city and attend college. As for me, I collapse from exhaustion and die in the cornfield. Wild dogs feed on my remains. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the first day Derek is trying to steal my work points. There are 15 days left until the fall harvest. I have 15 days until I die in that cornfield. I snatch the carrying pole from Derek's hands and say, "I'll handle my own work."
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Call Me Mummy, Dear Ex: The Betrayed Fiancee Strikes Back

Call Me Mummy, Dear Ex: The Betrayed Fiancee Strikes Back

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Kitten,” he warned, his eyes cold as he watched her hand slowly trace his exposed abs. The corner of her lips quirked up, and then she leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and then lapped at his ear slowly and sensually. In a split second, she was flipped over and then pinned to the wall. “You asked for this, Kitten.” His emotionless face finally changed as he revealed a scorching gaze that surprised her. She wanted to protest, but it became a gasp when she realized his hand had crept beneath her gown. His hand began to move, and her gasp soon changed into moans. His other hand had never let her neck go as he squeezed tighter. “That’s right! That is what I want to hear. Since you asked for it, I’ll make you moan till your voice is no more and you have reached your limit. Even then, I won’t stop.” Jasmine was plus-sized, but she was happy because she had a fiance who she believed loved her, a step-sister who could die for her, and loved ones who treated her like a princess. Well, that all changes when her fiancee dumps her at the altar after body shaming and scamming her of all she had. To worsen things, she finds him in bed with her step-sister. Left with no one, as even those she believed to be her loved ones deserted her, she supposedly committed suicide. Three years later, she turns up at her step-sister’s and ex-fiance’s wedding, looking astonishingly different. As if that weren’t enough shock, she suddenly declares that she isn’t back for her ex-fiancee but his gorgeous hunk of a father. And to their utter disbelief, he accepts her proposal.
106.0K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 222 Times as split fiction ao3
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THE WRONG TWIN BETWEEN MY THIGHS

THE WRONG TWIN BETWEEN MY THIGHS

_"She thinks I'm you, brother. And for the first time in her miserable marriage, she's finally being loved the way she deserves."_ *Sophia's father's gambling debt sold her to the ruthless Kane family like she was just another asset to collect.* Now she's married to Adrian Kane, superstar striker who touches her like she's a chore he can't wait to finish. A touch that feels more like punishment than passion. But some nights, he comes to her different. His mouth worships every inch of her. His hands make her ache for more. She tells herself it's still him—maybe the pressure has fractured something inside her husband's mind. But the truth isn't pressure or split personality. Those passionate nights aren't her husband at all. It's his psycho identical twin brother claiming her in the dark, giving her the passion he believes Adrian doesn't deserve to give. Damien knows how to make her beg—the wrong Kane with all the right sins. He watches her when she sleeps. He learns every secret she's never dared to confess. And when he slides into her bed wearing his brother's face, she forgets how to scream "no." He says she belongs to him now. He says she'll never escape his obsession. And the most twisted part? She's starting to crave the monster in the dark more than the man she was sold to. *But what happens when Adrian discovers the deception?* *And how far will Damien go to keep the woman he's claimed as his own?* *When the truth finally comes to light, which Kane brother will she choose—and will she even have a choice?*
101.2K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 40 Times as split fiction ao3
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THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM

THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.
1.7K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 45 Times as split fiction ao3
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EVERYTHING HE OWED HER

EVERYTHING HE OWED HER

Myra Darius has spent her whole life being the girl who almost belonged. Growing up on the Blancham estate as the daughter of the household staff, she knew exactly how close she could get to their world without ever really being part of it. She learned early which doors to avoid, which secrets to keep, and who she was never supposed to fall for. She broke that last rule, and so did Danny Blancham. What they had was real, quiet, and deep, and completely forbidden, the kind of love that doesn't care about class lines or family names. Then someone split them apart, not by accident or some big fight, but by careful, quiet manipulation that neither of them understood until it was already done. Now Danny's home, and within a day, every wall Myra spent eleven months building starts to crack the moment he walks back through the gate. This is a second-chance romance, but it doesn't stay simple for long. Because what Myra and Danny are fighting to get back to each other turns out to be only half the story. The Blancham family has been hiding something for twenty years, something that goes all the way back to before Danny knew what questions to ask and before Myra knew she should be looking. Her father wasn’t just absent; someone erased him. And the person both of them trusted most, the warm, steady presence who seemed to be on their side the entire time, is the one who buried him. Everything He Owed Her is a steamy, fast-paced forbidden romance with a hidden heiress and a villain twist that reframes everything. Myra isn't just fighting for Danny. She's fighting for her own name, and what she finds out she's owed is bigger than either of them expected.
132 viewsOngoingAdded to Library 3 Times as split fiction ao3
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Fighting Love (Fighting For Love 3)

Fighting Love (Fighting For Love 3)

He pulled back, his hands on either side of her face. “Look at me, sugar.” She opened her eyes. “I’m not a gentle man, Reena, but I can be. I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” He ran the tip of his finger along her full lower lip, over the tiny scar that Simon’s violence had left there. “I’m not like – like him. I’d never hurt you. Not ever.” “I know.” “Let me take you to my bed and show you, babe. Let me love you.” **** Reena Mackay has been taken advantage of one time too many. This latest betrayal leaves her broke, betrayed, and possibly homeless. So when she’s offered a chance to split rent with Mitch Corrigan – a pro fighter desperate to escape a roach-infested hotel – she takes it. Survival leaves little room for caution. Mitch is dangerous by trade and forged by a brutal past. He expects to want women who look fearless. Instead, he’s blindsided by his attraction to Reena: soft-spoken, blue-eyed, and far stronger than she appears. He wants to protect her. Claim her. Keep her safe from a world that keeps hurting her. But Mitch knows fairy tales aren’t real... and women like Reena don’t choose men like him. He’s wrong. Reena understands violence better than he ever will, and her faith in people is hard-won courage. When a so-called Prince Charming shatters her trust, Mitch is the one who stands between her and the dark. The question is whether she’ll risk her heart one more time... and whether Mitch can be her forever, or at least her now.
1.3K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 33 Times as split fiction ao3
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Innocent Little Runt

Innocent Little Runt

~read the rewrite ‘Celestial Bodies: of Runts and Lycans’ up on my profile~ Xavier sighed and tried to move in front of me without scaring me into backing away from him. "It's okay little one," he said as came closer to me. I felt so tiny in his presence, especially in wolf form. He knelt down and tried to move closer but I whimpered and backed up more into the tree. He sighed again before trying again and I tired to put all my fears away as he once again reached out his hand. I put my head down, hoping that if I couldn't see him, I wouldn't be scared. As I felt his hand on my back and felt tingles explode, I jumped but then relaxed as I got used to it. I calmed down more as he picked up my small frame and held me close before whispering into my ear, "What has happened to you little one?" *~*~*~* Celeste has always been running. When she was little a group of rouges killed most of her pack and the remaining wolves ran, including her. Over the years they have slowly split off until it is only her and her mother running. When the rouges once again find them her mother spared her own life to keep her beloved runt safe. She ran, but eventually she could no longer run for her tiny body hadn't had the energy. Now she has been found by a new pack, The Paramount pack, and she is surprised when she finds her mate. Because how can she, an innocent little runt, have a mate such as Xavier, one of the strongest alphas in the country?
1029.1K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 1.2K Times as split fiction ao3
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The Price of the Mafia’s Test

The Price of the Mafia’s Test

My boyfriend is the heir to Sicily's top mafia clan. To test my loyalty, he never spent a single dime on me during our five years together. Even when we bought condoms, he insisted we split the bill fifty-fifty. Last week, I was in a car accident. To save the baby in my womb, I urgently needed $1,000 for emergency surgery. I called him from the hospital, begging for the money, but he accused me of lying to extort cash from him and hung up. Desperate, I begged every friend and contact I knew. By the time I finally scraped the sum together, a unbearable pain tore through my abdomen—my baby's heart had already stopped beating. After burying my baby, I went back to pack my bags. That was when I accidentally found a birthday gift list he had prepared for his childhood neighbor, Nadia. A luxury yacht, a star named after her, and endless designer goods. Right then, his voice drifted in from the next room as he spoke on a phone call with his underbosses. "Hey Boss, is it true Elena begged you for a grand?" Dante Moretti scoffed arrogantly. "Yeah, and I stood my ground and refused. Nadia is right. Elena is just a helpless orphan who can't leave me. But to enter my family, she has to pass a strict test. It’s almost over. She’ll realize I did all this for her own good." So my five years of devotion, and my baby's life, were nothing more than a twisted test for a repulsive mafia title. Whatever. It didn't matter anymore. The moment the doctor announced my baby was dead, I had already decided to walk away from him forever.
11.8K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 376 Times as split fiction ao3
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Mom’s Punching Bag

Mom’s Punching Bag

I was born with an intellectual disability and congenital analgesia, the inability to feel pain. Since I was a child, I had been the human punching bag who took beatings meant for my younger sister. Whenever my sister was caught sneaking snacks, Mom would grab me by the hair and slam my head against the wall. Blood would run down my face from my head, yet I never made a sound. When my sister was caught cheating in an exam, Mom whipped me with a belt the entire afternoon. My skin split and my flesh torn, yet I could still manage a smile. Every time she saw me covered in injuries, my sister would throw her arms around me tightly and cry her eyes out. She would say she was wrong and promise never to misbehave again. Mom would be pleased at that, convinced she had disciplined us well. And so, for sixteen years, I had endured every punishment meant for my sister. Until the latest monthly exam, when my sister dropped a place in the rankings. Mom called her over as usual and, out of habit, she raised her hand toward me. The slap sent the back of my head crashing into the corner of a cabinet, and blood spilled across the floor. Through my fading consciousness, I saw Mom nodding in satisfaction and pulling my sister, who was wailing her heart out, to her feet. “There, there. Stop crying. You’ve had your punishment. Let’s go eat something nice and calm yourself.” Watching their retreating figures, my eyelids grew heavier by the second. It seemed to hurt a little this time. I’d better get well soon… After all, they’d need me again the next time my sister made another mistake.
1.9K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 55 Times as split fiction ao3
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