Step Sister Story Novels & Stories

I am the sacrifice. Every wolf that had no hope of having a mate was always sacrificed during the crowning of the Alpha of the pack. And, I was sacrificed to Alpha Damon, the new Alpha to Moon Walker Pack and my step brother. I was never to be touched by any man again. I was to sacrifice my body to the moon goddess. And, no man was allowed to touch me. The punishment for which was death. However, when romance brews between Alpha Damon and I, were we going to face the consequence of death just to prove our love for each other?

Piper is in love with Cory. It started as an innocent childhood crush that eventually grew into deep feelings. They have known each other since Piper was 5, and Cory was 9, but Cory doesn’t feel the same way; he’s always treated her more like a little sister, and with good reason. She IS his little sister! Well, step-sister.. When Cory comes home for their father's funeral, emotions are running high, and what starts as a little bit of sibling comfort soon turns into something more… Something that's so wrong but feels so right… ------------------------------------------------------- Please note, this is a Forbidden romance between STEP-SIBLINGS. This story will contain detailed chapters of sexual content. If that isn't your thing, then please don’t read. You have been warned. To be clear, the main characters in this story ARE NOT RELATED in any way by blood. This IS NOT an incest story.

What happened when a girl is forced to marry someone? I am Neha Samad and I was bound with a jerk. But I didn't know that my God would help me like this and my life would take a turn. Join Neha, a girl who was forced to marry a man who loved her but she had never met him ever. He kidnapped her and forced her to marry her. Will she be able to accept him? Will she get a peaceful life with love and care and respect? Or she will have nothing but a jerky man.

“Who would have thought goody two shoes Tatiana Olivera is a nasty sl*t who fantasies about f*ck*ng her step brother?” Hasan continues his teasing. He inserts in middle finger in my mouth and I greedily s*ck on it, picturing it to be his c*ck. Hasan’s mouth parts open, his brows cresting as he watches me s*ck his middle finger like a kid sucking on a candy cane. I frowned when he pulled out his middle finger. He grabs my chin with a fierceness that sent me on edge. “Open your mouth.” He orders and I obey. He takes in a deep breath as though calming himself and before I knew it, hot liquid drops into my mouth. Did.. did he just spit in my mouth? It tastes divine. It tastes like him. And I want more. “Swallow.” I meet his gaze as I gulp down his saliva. A proud smile appears on his face. “There’s my good little sl*t.” ***** I hate Hasan Olivera. I can’t stand him. The way he walks into the room like he owns the place, the smug smirk that says he already knows what I am thinking. He’s insufferably cocky, sharp-tongued, insanely hot and fully aware of it. And those eyes? Dark, knowing, endlessly amused by the fact that, no matter how much I pretend otherwise, I’m completely drawn to him. I want him to f*ck me. I want him to claim me. I want him to be mine because I belong to him. But he's my step brother. And I hate my step brother. -------

"Ethan... don't touch me there." It was so embarrassing that his hands moved so freely over my naked body. The sound of his breathing was heard which made my heart pound even more. "Sarah, I can't. "You're my patient." I bit my lip. I was indeed Ethan's patient. After the betrayal of my husband who chose to save another woman over me, I was injured and needed help. Ethan who is my husband's step-uncle is taking care of me, doing everything with his attitude that makes my heart pound. "Sarah, don't worry, I will help you."

My older sister, Candice Channing, was a doctor who was an expert at treating infertility patients. She was always telling me how worried she was about me marrying a man who was not great in bed, which would be equivalent to me marrying into a life of being a widow. That was why she would always seduce every boyfriend I had. After sleeping with them, she would approach me by showing off the love marks on her body. "I've tried him out for you. He's not a considerate lover and refused to let me go even after I told him 'No'. This isn't a man you would want." I broke down every time she did this. After that, I cut ties with her and left for another place. That was when I met Russell Loft, the youngest Captain in the army who was stationed there locally. He was a mature and good-looking man. On the day of our wedding, we arranged a banquet for our guests, and that was when I spotted Candice among the crowd. Candice was now Russell's personal doctor, and she was at the wedding as a guest. "My dear sister, I can't help but worry about the man you're about to marry. Let me try him out for you." She drugged me unconscious and climbed into bed with Russell in the dark. When I woke up and barged into the room with others, my actions caused a commotion among our colleagues. Candice was treated as a third party who destroyed my marriage and was taken away on the spot. When my son turned one, Russell told me he wanted to surprise me, but he took me to an abandoned minefield instead. The moment I stepped on an active mine, I knelt on the ground, begging him to take our son to safety, but Russell looked at me coldly and said, "All Candice wanted before the wedding was to leave me with a memory of her first time in bed with me, but you got her arrested, and she ended up being raped to death by the people in the detention center. She was pregnant with my baby when she died. You and that b*stard child of yours should pay for their lives." That was when I found out that he had fallen for Candice. My son and I died in the explosion, and our bodies were blown to smithereens without leaving behind a intact corpse. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of my wedding, where Candice appeared as our guest.

After his female assistant crashed her car into my sister, my CEO fiancé, the man who once adored me beyond reason, swore he would make her pay. However, instead of punishing her, he promoted her to my position at work. He claimed that the higher she climbed, the harder she would fall. He spent millions at an auction to buy her a bracelet and even bought her dog a luxury mansion as a kennel. Every time, he told me the same thing: it was all part of his revenge plan and that I needed to endure it a little longer. My sister suffered a brain hemorrhage caused by complications from the accident and urgently needed surgery. Desperate, I begged my fiancé to return the salary he had managed for me over the years. He agreed and told me to get his assistant's approval for the withdrawal. When I submitted the request, she rejected it for incomplete documentation. After I finally gathered everything she asked for, she smiled, said office hours were over, and told me to come back tomorrow. My sister died before tomorrow could come. Only then did my fiancé call to comfort me. “Tell Dolly to wait a few more days for her surgery. Everything I’m doing is to get revenge on Sylvia and avenge Dolly. During her celebration banquet the day after tomorrow, I’ll take back everything I gave her and ruin her completely. After that, we’ll get married. You and Dolly will finally be happy.” By then, I finally understood. His so-called revenge was nothing more than an excuse for the way he indulged and favored his assistant. When my sister died, whatever remained between us died with her.

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

Katherine Harrison swore one night with Dorian would be nothing more than a reckless mistake. A secret to bury. But when her father drags her into a summer of forced family bonding with her new stepmother, Katherine finds herself under the same roof as the one man she can’t stand and can’t stop craving. Dorian lives to provoke her. Every smirk, every filthy word, every brush of his body against hers feels like a dare she’s seconds away from losing. He knows exactly how to get under her skin, and the line between hate and desire blurs more with every stolen glance. She tells herself to ignore him. To remember he’s off-limits. To keep her distance. But Dorian has other plans…plans that could expose their darkest secret and burn their world to the ground. This summer, Katherine will have to decide, fight the fire or let it consume her whole.

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the doors behind me opened. My sister walked into the chapel, in a white dress, and slid her arm through his. She smiled at me. "Sorry, sis. Those airport pickups? I'm the one who sent him. For the last three years, he's been mine the whole time."