Sukuna Kitchen Novels & Stories

Selene, the loyal best friend, accidentally has a wild one-night stand with a tall, bearded stranger in a motel during a snowstorm—raw, unforgettable sex she thinks she’ll never repeat. The next day at Gwen’s family dinner, the stranger walks in: it’s CK—Gwen’s lifelong childhood crush and family friend, now their new roommate. Guilt crashes in as Selene realizes she slept with her best friend’s obsession. But the chemistry is too strong to resist. Secret hookups ignite in their shared apartment (kitchen counters, shared bathroom risks, late-night motel dates). They agree to date in hiding—Gwen can never know. Every stolen moment is hotter because it’s wrong. Close calls multiply. CK’s quiet depression cracks around Selene. External pressure builds from ex Megan at his new law firm job. When Gwen starts noticing marks, deleted texts, weird vibes, and the growing distance between her two closest people—the secret begins to crack. The truth explodes at Gwen’s surprise birthday party (puppy reveal, friends, cake). After fallout and healing, Selene and CK reunite months later—no lies, just honest love. Hopeful but scarred ending.

Dark. Powerful. Dangerous. James Maxwell is one of the billionaire elites who rules Las Vegas City with an iron fist. You’re definitely worth two million, Mia. Think about it. Two million. Five years. Your brother will go free. It’s a contract. Those are the words of the gorgeous billionaire James Maxwell, the man who makes my heart race and my body tremble with longing. I want to refuse his proposal, but how can I? My brother owes him two million, and as dirt poor as we are, there’s no way we can find that much money to repay him. What’s worse, I think I’m falling in love with the man who thinks I’m just his mistress. My name is Mia Donovan, a twenty-two-year-old small-town girl working as a kitchen hand to make ends meet. My world is changing—both for the better and worse. James Maxwell, a gorgeous billionaire with beautiful Prussian-blue eyes, is the man behind this. He makes my heart flutter and my knees shake. When he kisses me, my world melts into a pool of exotic sensation. But his world is dark and dangerous, and being with him is a risk both to my life and my sanity. This is our story.

Gabriella Montez is an ordinary omega blessed with the gift of healing through the knowledge of herbs and her culinary skills. After being wrongfully accused of theft, she escapes her pack and finds refuge in White Pack, applying for a position in the mansion of Alpha Waylen, who has been desperately seeking someone to replicate his mother’s cherished mushroom broth soup. Once she secures the job, Gabriella heads out to a club to celebrate with her friend, where a night of unexpected passion with a mysterious stranger leads to a steamy one-night stand. The morning after reveals a shocking twist: the seductive stranger is none other than Alpha Waylen himself. As Gabriella whips up hearty meals in his kitchen, and heals his soul in ways he didn’t know could be mended, she gradually melts her way into his heart. Yet, their blossoming romance is met with challenges, as different forces threaten to tear them apart, and Alpha Waylen harbors secrets that could jeopardize everything they’ve built together. Can the forbidden love between an Alpha and an omega endure the trials ahead? Will it flourish against all odds, or will it wither away like a neglected plant in a once-thriving garden?

WARNING Explicit stepmother/stepson incest (he calls her "Mom" while he's balls-deep) • Raw cheating on the husband/father • Rough degrading sex: choking, slapping, spitting, hair-pulling, "slut" talk • Bareback creampies, facials, swallowing • Almost-getting-caught adrenaline • Age-gap filth + forbidden obsession Arranged-marriage jealousy and heartbreaking goodbye sex This is NOT romance. This is pure, dripping, no-limits taboo erotica. About "Hooked on his Dick" One open door was all it took. Natasha walks in on her stepson Noah stroking the biggest cock she's ever seen and instead of walking out, her panties soak through. From that second, they're doomed. Secret quickies while Dad's downstairs. Kitchen counter pounding with the cake burning. One last soul shattering night on the eve of Liam's wedding to his old school crush. She knows it's wrong. He knows it's wrong. But every time he growls "Mom" and slams into her, wrong feels so fucking right. No hearts and flowers. No redemption arc. Just sweat, cum, guilt, and the kind of dirty, obsessive sex that leaves you shaking. If you want your taboo served raw, breathless, and unapologetic this one will ruin you in the best way.

He calls himself my guardian. But I want him to call me a good girl. I moved in after my mother died. He opened the door — broad chest, deep voice, eyes that stalled when they dropped to my tits. He tried to be decent. Tried to be safe. But I’ve been wet for him since day one. He’s twice my age. Raised my half-sister. Taught her to say “Dad” like it was gospel. But I know what she really wants. I see the way she watches him. The way she watches me when I bend over the kitchen counter, tank top riding up, no bra in sight. This house is full of secrets, soaked sheets, and girls who know better. He pretends not to want it. She pretends she’s not touching herself at night. And me? I leave the door open and let them both fall apart. Because I don’t want to be loved. I want to be used. Ruined. Claimed in every room until they forget who’s the daughter, who’s the guest, and who’s in charge. He raised her. He took me in. But — who’s he going to fuck first?

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.

At 4:00 a.m., my husband, Rocco, gently shook me awake. His voice was a low murmur, . "Alessia, my love, could you do something for me?" But his next words shattered the illusion. "Scarlett is hungry. Go make her some seafood soup." Scarlett was our maid, and she was also Rocco's pregnant goomar. "I just had fresh seafood delivered. Get to the kitchen and make her a bowl of soup. Just for Falcone's heir." I refused, my voice cold. His anger flared in an instant. "Don't be so unreasonable, Alessia." "Is it really so hard for you to make some soup?" I shook my head, silent. He stroked my cheek, a patronizing smile playing on his lips. "Fine, Alessia. So you've learned to defy me now." "Think carefully, Alessia. Do you really want to keep your place as a Falcone?" "And your position as the family's lawyer? Think about whether you still want these… then give me your answer." Seeing the arrogance in Rocco's eyes, the last ember of love I had for this man died. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "I want out of the Falcone family."

"There Are THREE SIDES To Every Story. YOURS, HIS And The TRUTH."We both hold distaste for the other. We're both clouded by their own selfish nature. We're both playing the blame game. It won't end until someone admits defeat. Until someone decides to call it quits. But how would that ever happen? We're are just as stubborn as one another.Only one thing would change our resolution to one another. An Engagement. .......An excerpt -" To be honest I have no interest in you. ", he said coldly almost matching the demeanor I had for him, he still had a long way to go through before he could be on par with my hatred for him. He slid over to me a hot cup of coffee, it shook a little causing drops to land on the counter. I sighed, just the sight of it reminded me of the terrible banging in my head. Hangovers were the worst. We sat side by side in the kitchen, disinterest, and distaste for one another high. I could bet if it was a smell, it'd be pungent."I feel the same way. " I replied monotonously taking a sip of the hot liquid, feeling it burn my throat. I glanced his way, staring at his brown hair ruffled, at his dark captivating green eyes. I placed a hand on my lips remembering the intense scene that occurred last night. I swallowed hard. How? I thought. How could I be interested?I was in love with his brother.

Someone texted me halfway through the wedding. The message read, "I had sex with your husband. Doesn't matter if you don't believe it." The message hit me like a hammer, and I stood petrified. Then, the texter sent another message, "Second pocket on the inside of his coat. There's a used condom there from last night. Strawberry. We were setting up the room, and one thing led to another. "We did it everywhere. Balcony, kitchen, and even in your car. He's not allergic to women. He'd gladly sleep with someone before marriage. He lied to you." Everything began to spin. I walked ahead, but my movements felt stiff. I felt as if someone was yanking me forward. I approached the aloof, abstinent man I called my husband. The same man who had to think twice before holding my hand. Sure enough, I found a pink condom in his pocket. Gasps and shouts rippled across the hall, while flashes of camera blazed and blinded the scene. I spun on my heel. That was when I saw my best friend Zoe holding up her phone beneath the stage, a gentle smile hanging on her lips. Something bitter and sad filled my heart. It took me standing here, utterly humiliated, to realize that the very thing I spent my whole life fighting for was nothing but a joke.

When Damian Voss lets his wife walk in on him kissing his first love against their kitchen island, he believes he's finally free — done with the quiet woman he married in secret, ready to claim the powerful public life he always wanted. What he doesn't know: the woman he just handed divorce papers to carries his child, his most dangerous competitor's personal vendetta, and a surname worth ten billion dollars that was stolen from her before she could walk. For three years, Lila loved him in secret — no announcements, no red carpets, no credit. She covered for his late nights, ignored the suspicious texts, and carried champagne and silk to a penthouse where she planned to give him everything. That moment arrived on their anniversary. He was already kissing someone else when she walked through the door. She signed. She slid the papers across the marble. She walked out without a single tear — and picked up a phone call that changed the shape of the world. Some men confuse silence for weakness. Some women are only quiet because they haven't yet decided what to burn. And some divorces don't end a story — they start one, with a crown, a rival, and an empire rebuilt on the ashes of everything he thought he owned.