Spread Epub Pub Novels & Stories

"Don't you love this?" Isobel asked, undoing his pants. Cameron raised her up, pushing her ass on the table. He checked the bottom drawer and realised they were out of condoms. Completely mesmerised, he breath. "We can't do this. You don't want to get pregnant." She leaned closer to his body till her braless tits fell on his chest and her lips touched his ears. "I did something." She whispered. "Won't be giving birth for three months." She said. Cameron shifted back, taking his time to look in her eyes. He wanted to be sure she understood what she had done and was ready for it. Isobel smiled, need masqueraded her eyes. "Are you sure?" She nodded. Dipping her hand in his pants. She gasped as her hand fisted his, thick, hard dick. "I want this." "Good." Cameron said, taking his shirt off. "Because I'm going to fuck you." He roared and that instant, her dress ripped open. She enjoyed the sound of the tear. She enjoyed being vulnerable and naked in front of him. Her nipples hardened and his tongue enveloped it. "You're mine. And I'll make you remember that. Every. Damn. Time." "I know." She whispered, unable to think. Her hand roamed around his body till she felt his gun. Isobel gasped. Cameron held her little fingers, reading the look on her face. He stopped and pulled out without taking his eyes off her body. He spread her legs wide for him. She's so beautiful. That pussy is his. Cameron loaded the gun with a bullet and cocked it. Isobel flinched. The mouth of the gun grazed her pussy in ways she enjoyed. She moaned, biting her lips. He was fucking her with his gun. This is her dream come true.

Westbridge Academy is not a schoo‌l for humans, It is where alphas a‌re t‍r⁠aine⁠d, blo‍od‍line‌s ar‌e sharp⁠ened, and monsters learn to rule. Isla V⁠ale knows this⁠ better than anyo⁠ne but she disgu‌ised as “Eli,” a quiet scholarship boy e‌nrolled in an elite advance‍d‍ science program, Isla hides among werewolves, shifters, and oth⁠er supernatu‌ral elite‌s, m⁠asking her scen⁠t, her body, a⁠n‍d her fear every single day. Living in the dorm make things worse and one mi⁠stake could mean exposure. One‍ slip could mean death but West‍bridge is ruled by ins⁠tin‌cts no one ca‌n‌ fully control. Kiera‌n Blackthorne the academy’s golde‍n alph‍a heir i‍s everything Isla‍ should⁠ avoid dominant, teasing, danger‌ousl⁠y perceptive⁠. From‌ the⁠ momen‍t they meet, his atte‌nti‌on lingers too long, his ins⁠t‌i‌ncts pulling him toward someone he shouldn’t want. Then there is Fin‌n Ashcroft, a calm a‍nd observant b‍eta with a reputati⁠on on the⁠ b‌ask⁠etball co⁠urt, notices what ot‌hers miss. He becomes Isla’s anchor, h‍er protect‍or and possibly the first to s‍uspect that “Eli” is hiding m‍ore t⁠han j‍ust secrets‌. As ri⁠valries‍ ign⁠it⁠e, rumors spread, and wol⁠f instincts sharpen, Isla is pulled in‍to a vola‍tile triangle of attra‌ction, j‍ealo‌usy, and dange‌r. Every⁠ close call brings her nea⁠re⁠r to discovery and every heart⁠beat risks awakening i‌nstinct‍s that cou‌ld expose her human⁠ity.‌ Whe⁠n the truth finally comes out t‍o the worst⁠ p‌o‌ssible people Westbridge erupts. Because humans were n‍ever meant to l⁠ive among w‍olves an‌d wolves do not for⁠give deception eas‍ily.

On the day the SAT test results were released, my younger brother, who had always been an average student, turned out to be a perfect scorer. Meanwhile, I, the straight-A student, had my results voided because my answers were deemed poorly structured. During a reporter's interview, my brother suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and slammed his head against the ground. "Henry, I was wrong! "I shouldn't have scored so high! I really didn't mean to refuse to take the exam for you! "Please don't send me back to the fighting ring! "Don't worry! I swear I'll never tell anyone about what you do with men at bars! Please just let me go!" My parents were heartbroken for him. They slapped me over and over while shouting. "It's one thing for you to fool around out there, but how could you bully your brother too? "Thank goodness this was the SAT test, so you couldn't force him to take it for you! Otherwise, you would've ruined his entire future!" My girlfriend immediately dumped me and got together with him instead. She said she wanted to make it up to him on my behalf. As soon as the interview aired, videos of me fooling around with other men in bars spread everywhere online. Before long, all my personal information was exposed. Enraged netizens lured me into a remote forest in the hills. "Are you this desperate? Stay here and reflect on yourself!" I was coiled by a lethally venomous snake. The pain was unbearable. My parents clearly knew what had happened, yet they refused to save me. "It's just a small snake. You're not going to die! "You're not allowed to come home until your brother starts college!" On the day of our high school graduation party, my brother and his girlfriend received acceptance letters from the country's best college, along with a notebook I had sent them.

On our seventh year anniversary, my girlfriend, Rachel Winters, forces me to drink a glass of drugged champagne before dumping me onto the bed of an 80-year-old widow. "It's Bryon's first time attending a business meeting. He's still pure and oblivious, so he doesn't know how to satisfy an older widow's insatiable desire. "I have no choice but to ask you to seal this business deal on his behalf. Think of this as your way of helping me repay Bryon's family for raising me since young. "Don't worry, Corey. No one will know about this." After that, Rachel turns off the lights and leaves the room while ignoring my pleas for help. But the next day, the video of me and the widow going at it is spread across the Internet. My colleagues look down on me for resorting to such underhanded methods just to get promoted. They can't believe that I'm able to stomach the idea of sleeping with an 80-year-old widow. Thanks to the video, the company's reputation is greatly affected. Rachel holds a press conference immediately to address the issue. I thought she'd defend me, but I didn't expect her to change her tune. "I've already discussed this matter with the Dalton family. Corey Dalton shall take responsibility for what he's done to the widow. As for me, I will get engaged to Bryon Parson." I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. I've founded this company with Rachel and has stuck by her side through thick and thin, resulting in us rising as the new-time business moguls. But in the end, she decides to ditch me. "Corey, if you really want to stay by my side, you can remain as my side piece. In exchange, I'll help you shake that old woman off your tail." As I meet Rachel's smug gaze, I shake my head decisively. "I've already thought things through and decided that I'll be marrying the widow."

Raven Academy claws three primal laws into every shifter's soul: 1. Never deceive an Alpha. 2. Never hunger for an Alpha. 3. Never let Jason Voss inhale your desperate scent. I demolished them all in a fevered rush. One forged assignment, hidden in shadows. His silver gaze pierced through, summoning me to his den. "Exile yourself," he snarled, voice like velvet-wrapped steel, his alpha presence coiling around me, thick with dominance. I collapsed to my knees, pulse thundering, body betraying me with heat. "I'll do anything," I whispered, voice raw, eyes locked on his sculpted form—the godlike alpha every wolf in the academy craved, their fantasies paling against his brutal reality. He didn't smile. He claimed. Now, nights devour me in his sealed lair. His forbidden pupil, spread open for lessons in sin. He unravels me with calloused hands mapping my skin, tongue tracing veins, cock demanding surrender. First lesson: my shattered moans as he pins me to the desk, thrusting mercilessly, his knot swelling to lock us in ecstasy's vise, flooding me until I drip with his essence. Second: the burn of his fangs sinking into my neck mid-fuck, his hips grinding deeper, growling "Mine" like a curse that brands my wolf's core. Third: orgasms ripping through me untouched, his fist twisting my hair, breath hot as he hisses, "My thieving slut, begging for every inch." He etches ownership in flesh: Purple blooms from his grip. Claiming scars pulsing with heat. His release slick between my thighs during sunlit classes, a secret torment that has me aching for more. The pack still worships untouchable Jason Voss from afar, drooling over his lethal beauty. Blind to his mate. Me. Broken. Addicted. Praying this dark bliss never ends. Salvation? I'd claw it apart for one more bite.

Three women. And maybe more... Three stories. And more... All soaked in desire that doesn't care about rules, vows, or shame. These aren't tales of love-they're confessions of raw, hungry need. Lust that makes your cünt throb, your cöck twitch, your breath catch. Pages moist with sweat, wet with cūm, dripping with sin. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands-everything presses, slides, and fūcks in ways that make your pulse race. You'll read about pūssies dripping, cöcks hard and throbbing, mouths gagging and sūcking, āss cheeks spread, tongues sliding inside folds, fingers plunging deep. Every page pulses with heat, with mōans you can feel, with bodies colliding and fücking without mercy. Inside, nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. A married woman spreads wide for her forbidden lover. A professor trembles as her student takes her mouth. A stranger is bound and worshiped, every inch of her body devoured. And that's just the beginning. Every filthy craving, every desperate mōan, every secret you've never dared whisper-it's here. Women devour women. Men ravage men. Lovers cross every line they shouldn't. So go on. Pretend your fingers aren't twitching to turn the page. Pretend your thighs aren't already wet. Pretend your cöck isn't straining. But once you give in... once your eyes slide across the first word... you'll feel it- the slow, dirty pull between your thighs, the rush of want crawling through you, your body answering before your mind does. And from that moment- you don't just read it. You become it. Your püssy, your cöck, your jūices, your mōans, your filthy, trembling need-all mine to claim, to taste, to drive wild. So tell me-would you be mine? Would you dare turn these cūm-stained pages?

Andrea Reeves, the new hire in finance, is all looks and no brains. On payday, she mistypes my wages in the payroll system, sending only one cent to my account. Because of that, my payment fails when I try to buy Mom's life-saving medication, and she dies full of regret. Before I can confront Andrea, she bursts into tears, smudging her mascara and makeup. "Ms. Walton, I'm so sorry. I accidentally sent your pay to the janitor you fired. The one who's a single mom. Can't you just think of her as your other mom?" Norman Halt, the finance director—and my husband—immediately shields her behind him. "Don't blame Andrea. If you didn't have enough money saved up, why are you pretending to be the dutiful daughter now?" I nearly faint from crying so hard. Wracked with guilt, Andrea shows up at the funeral with an entire marching band in tow. The mourning hall turns festive and lively, leaving my family and friends stunned. I lose it and yell at her to leave, but she looks completely hurt. "It's already so tragic that she dies from an illness. I just want to give her a joyful send-off!" Furious, the asthma I've managed for years flares so abruptly that my hands shake as I take out my inhaler. She slaps it away and screams, "How could you use such illegal substances? That's against the law!" Blue-lipped and gasping, I crumple to the ground. In my final moments, I hear Andrea's tearful voice. "This is all my fault. I'm an idiot… I didn't realize it's just medicine…" Norman covers for her. "It's not your fault. Spread the word that Ms. Walton died of grief over her mother's passing." That night, my body is cremated. My death goes silent and unnoticed. When I open my eyes again, it's payday all over again.

I had loved my best friend's Alpha heir brother Marcus Steele for ten years. After my first shift, I was thrilled to discover he was actually my mate. Without hesitation, I gave up my position as Alpha heiress of the Crimson Pack and joined the Moonridge Pack. I spent three years doing everything I could think of to win him over. Finally, he agreed to our binding. Just as I was happily preparing to discuss our mating ceremony with him, I overheard his conversation with his Beta. "Alpha, are you really planning to hold a mating ceremony with Aria Blackwood? Serena is still carrying your child..." The man's eyes were dark and unreadable. "That's right. Even though Serena is pregnant with my child, my father has been dissatisfied with me. This time I have no choice but to marry Aria to appease him. After all, she's the Alpha heiress of the most powerful Crimson Pack. If I marry her, father will definitely let me inherit the Alpha position." "Aren't you afraid Aria will find out about Serena and cause trouble for her?" "No way. After all these years, I know exactly what kind of person she is. I'll just sweet-talk her a bit and she'll obediently listen to me. Besides, that's my bloodline. She'll have to accept it." I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I stumbled outside in a daze, only to be ambushed by enemy rogue wolves. I was poisoned with silver, and because help didn't arrive in time, the silver toxin spread through my bloodstream to my brain. After three days and nights in a coma, I woke up having forgotten all memories of the man I had once loved with all my heart. Ever since I came to the Moonridge Pack, my parents called every month asking me to come home. This time I dialed my father's number and told him: "I don't want to be the Moonridge Pack's Luna anymore. I want to be Crimson's Alpha."

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.

While studying abroad, I move into a shared apartment. Not a single day goes by without my housemate, Stuart Harper, calling himself some variation of a sweet, brave, and responsible guy. On the very first day he moves in, he hires workers to take out the insulation from the walls. I confront him about it, but he simply grins at me and proudly boasts about his decision. "That was all just some shoddy foam that the construction workers padded the walls with. Not only was it useless, but it was even taking up so much space. The fact that I forked out my own money to get rid of it proves that I'm such a sweet and responsible guy!" With a scowl on my face, I explain to Stuart the purpose of having proper insulation. He immediately leans in close with an admiring gaze. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea! I just wanted to do something nice for us. What should I do now? You have to help me think of something!" I naively assume Stuart just lacks common sense and doesn't act with malice. Thus, I willingly enter into a cycle of always cleaning up after his messes. One day, I get a fever. He ends up buying a secondhand electric slow cooker and declares he's going to take care of me by cooking me soup. My head throbs as I quickly put a stop to his attempt to heat the electric slow cooker on the induction stove. I tell him to let me catch a nap before I teach him how to cook later. But not long after I fall asleep, he secretly sticks the electric slow cooker into the microwave to heat it up. The microwave explodes. As the flames start to spread, Stuart screams and dashes out of the apartment at once. The fire alarm wakes me up. I try to evacuate the burning building, only to find that Stuart has locked the door from the outside. In the end, the fire burns me to a crisp. After that, however, he starts twisting things around. He goes online and says with a helpless expression, "My housemate set the apartment on fire while cooking. I'm the one who had to call the fire department on his behalf, and I even had to compensate the landlord for him. I'm definitely the sweetest, bravest, and most responsible guy to ever live!" As the online community proceeds to condemn me, Stuart uses the attention and publicity to go viral as a content creator. Some time later, my eyes open again. This time, I'm going to roast him good.