Starving Lyrics

"As long as you're this wet for me, you can hate me all you want." He whispered into my ear. "I will never forgive you for this, Reid." I angrily spat at him. Without warning, he gripped my chin, only to kiss me with a bruising intensity. There was nothing sweet about the way he kissed me. It felt like he was branding me all over again. He roughly pushed my panties aside. I gasped, giving him full access to my mouth. A growl that came from deep within his chest vibrated through me. "Forgive me?" he echoed against my lips before sliding a finger through my slick folds. A breathy whimper escaped my lips as his finger started circling my entrance. "This wet little cunt belongs to me. You belong to me. And I will fuck you until you understand that, little slave," he promised, the rough pad of his finger slowly circling my throbbing clit. ×× I was just a hiker who took a wrong turn. I didn't know these mountains belonged to him. Alpha Reid was a beast in human skin. CRUEL, POSSESSIVE, and STARVING for a toy to break. He gave me a five-minute head start. I lost. Now, I'm his captive. His "SLAVE." And the worst part wasn't the cold marble of his mansion or his dark demands... it was the way my body betrayed me every time he touched me. WARNING: MATURE CONTENT READERS 18+ ONLY. This story is a DARK WEREWOLF ROMANCE and contains explicit themes like graphic sexual content and language. Extreme power imbalances and ownership themes.

He’ll teach her every dirty thing her mother warned her about. …… Daniella Wilson has never been touched. But every night, her dreams drag her into sin; slick heat, whispered moans, the kind of filthy hunger she has never tasted in reality. By day, she’s the quiet, obedient college girl her mother demand her to be. By night, she’s writhing in her sheets, soaked and starving for a release her own fingers can’t give. Desperate, she seeks help from the one man she should never have gone to… Jeffrey Cross. A private psychosexual therapist known for fixing desires too dangerous to speak aloud. But the moment she walks into his office, she realizes her mistake. His eyes strip her bare, his words crawl under her skin. What begins as counseling twists into something darker. His questions slip into places they shouldn’t, his gaze holds her until she forgets how to breathe. She tells herself she can resist. That she can escape him, but guilt turns to craving, and craving spirals into sin when Jeffrey steps out of his office and into her home as her private tutor. Drawn into a dangerous obsession, Daniella must choose—cling to the innocence she’s desperate to protect, or surrender to the forbidden man who makes her feel alive for the first time. CONTENT WARNING: This book is strictly 18+ Contains explicit sex, lust, obsession, manipulation, seduction, taboo desires, and morally grey characters. Readers discretion is advised. Who can't wait for this story?

"I saved his life with a lie. Now, I have to live it—or die in his bed." Noah Bennett is a nobody, a starving survivor in a kingdom of ice. When he finds the poisoned, half-dead King Ethan Walker in a frozen ravine, he makes a desperate, split-second choice to secure his future. He pitches his voice high, binds his chest, and claims to be a maiden named Abigail. He expected a reward and a quiet escape. He didn’t expect the King to wake up with a terrifying, soul-deep obsession. Now, the "Angel of the Ravine" has been brought to the palace in a carriage of gold and silk. Ethan Walker is a man of cold steel and dark hungers, a King who pampers his "Abigail" with a devotion that feels like a chokehold. He wants his savior. He wants a Queen. And he wants her—him—in his bed before the moon turns full. As the wedding bells toll, the stakes reach a breaking point: The Lie: One torn gown or one slipped word will lead Noah to the executioner’s block. The Lust: Ethan’s touch is electric, a "Good Turn Bad" obsession that makes Noah’s heart hammer for all the wrong reasons. The Trap: The King’s traitorous brother is watching, the General is suspicious, and the Silver Wolf of the north is howling for the truth. In a court of vipers, Noah is playing the most dangerous game in Aethelgard. He must navigate the King’s possessive "Silk Noose" while hiding the truth beneath his robes. But as Ethan leans in to claim his "bride's" neck, Noah realizes the most terrifying secret of all: The King might already know. And he might like the lie even better than the truth.

For three hundreds under vampire rule, the Blood Prince has drawn a new bride from his realms every fifty years. In my previous life, Seraphina was chosen,Lucian’s childhood sweetheart. The night before our bonding ceremony, she burst into our chamber, tears streaming. “Lucian, I’ve been chosen as the Blood Prince’s seventh bride!” she sobbed. “They say he loses control on his wedding night, drains every drop of blood from his bride. None of the first six lived to see dawn. I don’t want to die—please, claim me as your mate!” But Lucian had already claimed me. And by wolf law, an Alpha may bind only one mate at a time. So I step forward, and refused her. The next day, at the altar, Seraphina slit her throat with a silver dagger. Lucian didn’t flinch. He ordered the blood scrubbed from the stones—and proceeded with our ceremony as nothing had happened. However,on our honeymoon, he pushed me into starving wolves. His eyes burned crimson as he snarled, “If you hadn’t tricked me into marking you earlier, Seraphina would be alive. You killed her.” Over a dozen of wolves with gleaming eyes swarmed me in, tore me limb from limb. Then I woke, back on the day the mate-hunger hex seized Lucian. This time, I dragged Seraph-the girl Lucian cherished as most precious jewel,from her house myself, and shoved her into Lucian’s chamber. “Be his cure, and I’ll take your place as the Blood Prince’s bride instead.

I spent a year starving for a man who wouldn't touch me. Then his father and brother decided to feast. Rob called me a slut when I begged him to fuck me. Made me feel worthless for craving his hands on my body. Then he let another woman suck his cock right in front of me—and told me she did it better. I should have left. But I followed him to his family's private island in Italy instead. That's where I met them. Victor Marchetti. Rob's father. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and a body built for sin. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. When his hand touched the small of my back, I felt it between my thighs. Dante. The older brother. Dark, dangerous, and built like he could break me apart with his bare hands. One look from those black eyes and I was wet. One word from that deep voice and I was ready to drop to my knees. I tried to resist. Tried to remember I had a boyfriend sleeping down the hall. But they hunted me. Cornered me. Made me admit what my body had been screaming for. When they finally took me—both of them, at the same time, claiming every hole, every sound, every desperate whimper—I understood what I'd been missing. Victor's hand around my throat while Dante buried himself so deep I couldn't breathe. Two men who didn't just want me. They needed me. Owned me. Ruined me for anyone else. Rob made me beg for scraps. His father and brother made me scream their names.

“I can feel your fear. Your heat. The way your sweet little cunt clenches before I even touch it. You’re not afraid of the beast, Kaerith… You’re starving for him.” He forces her legs wide, claws digging into her hips, pinning her down like prey. The head of his cock—thick, ridged, inhuman—presses against her dripping entrance, teasing her folds, soaking in her slick. “Now spread wider,” he hisses. “And let the beast feed.” — Kaerith—an omega, daughter of the last great Lycan Alpha—was born with the rarest curse of all. She was meant to be ransomed, not enslaved. Now, she’s chained inside Murnokh—a kingdom made of bone and nightmare. A slave. A plaything. A feeding source for Gorvane. Gorvane doesn’t make love. He fucks angrily. He devours. And no one survives it. King Gorvane, a Dreadborn, of the Kingdom of Murnokh, who died as a result of betrayal, rose from a battlefield soaked in centuries of rage. And now, he owns her. He touches her thoughts. Her fear. Her pain. Her buried rage. And he drinks it. But something in Kaerith cracks his hunger. It weakens him. It entices him. And when he finally takes her, it’s not just to feed—it’s to claim. She was never meant to survive his touch. Now, she’s the only thing keeping him sane. He doesn’t understand her softness. Her silence. Her refusal to scream. He’s built to feed on the wreckage of the human heart. But she is making him forget how to starve, how to rage, how to hate. Real love is poison to his kind. Their love is forbidden and if she discovers his True Name—the very grief that birthed him—she will have the power to destroy him… Or to set him free.

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls. In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow. Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning. "Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother." He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions. Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights. My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us. That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

"You invade my thoughts a lot Neah" Damon drawled, his eyes seemed starving, his tone softer than she had ever heard. "I-I ," Neah's eyes were drawn to his lips, she swallowed. "I envision to be deep inside you spread beneath me, my fangs at your neck, yet- yet I cannot do that to you, why?"Without waiting for her reply, Damon slammed his lips on hers. The kiss was fierce, desperate, yearning. Neah surrendered to the heat that arose within her, all opposing thoughts vacated Neah's head as Damon plundered her mouth. The reality of the kiss shattered every wall she's built. Damon's hands moved to her lower back, caressing her butt cheeks. "Mmmrh please~~" Neah moaned into his lips as his tongue delved deeper, coercing her into a dance she had never learned but now found herself desperate to master. Damon suckled at her lips greedily, every pull igniting flames in their entwined body, drawing more throaty moans from Neah. A deathly obsession! Neah, a wolfless Alpha heir had wet dreams about three beautiful Lycan Brothers. But then, amidst her chaotic life, fate swiveled her at the mercy of the three Lycan Brothers; Damon, Damian, Dylan who was possessive of her knowing she was their mate despite her young age as she couldn't find feel the bond yet. Neah later realizes that they were her mates and couldn't escape from their grasp but then, a false truth shattered her to the brink of confusion, hate and revenge for her mates. Now Neah's left to grapple the forbidden desire and the chilling truth about her mates merciless actions.