Sukuna Kitchen の小説・ストーリー

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle. The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him. Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure. Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets. I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink. We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant. It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor. "Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?" "I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match." The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie. If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

I was on the verge of unbuckling his belt when he pulled away so forcefully I stumbled forward, disoriented by the sudden loss of contact. My core throbbed, my nipples could cut diamonds, and my skin was so sensitive even the brush of air caused me to tremble. But when the fog of sensation dissipated, I realized Alex was glaring at me. “Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his scowl fierce enough to make grown men quake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Alex—” “No. What the hell were you thinking?” he bit out. “Did you think we would fuck in the kitchen while your friends are in the other room?” Heat scorched my cheeks. “If this is about Josh—” “It’s not about Josh.” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a slow, controlled breath. “Not entirely.” “Then what is it?” He wanted me. I knew he did; I felt it, and I’m not just talking about the massive bulge straining his pants. Yes, Josh would attempt to murder us both if he found out what happened, but he couldn’t stay mad at us forever. Besides, he didn’t return to D.C. until Christmas. We had time. “It’s me. And you. Together. It won’t work.” Alex’s glare intensified. “Whatever fantasies you have of us swirling in that pretty head of yours, kill them. That kiss was a one-time mistake. It’ll never happen again.”

Ava Coleman was always looked down upon as a mistress's daughter in her family. Her father Jackson ignored her existence and never said a word to her. Her stepmother Bianca treated her like a maid. Even worse, as she grew up, she started to feel a dirty gaze on her body from her stepbrother, Jonathan who wanted to have her first time at all costs before she found her mate. The only hope for Ava is to find her mate and escape from hell. To celebrate Jonathan finding the Alpha's daughter as his mate, her family held a big Party, and they invited many well-known Alpha families. But Ava was not allowed to attend, she had to cook in the kitchen though that day was her 20th birthday, Her stepmother forces her to serve a drink to a furious man -the ruthless Alpha Thorne, the Alpha of the Black Mountain pack. People said he turned into a cold-blood Alpha since he lost his Luna years ago. Unexpectedly, he turns out to be her mate. Alpha Thorne has no thoughts of taking a mate despite his pack's persuasion to take Agatha, the sister of his beta as his mate. But when he sees Ava for the first time, he's overwhelmed with the desire to have her. A cold man and a broken girl. Will they heal together and find love or will misunderstandings and enemies break them before they even know how to love again?

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

"Why aren't you ready for me?" His voice cut through the darkness, sharp as a blade. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. "How often do I have to tell you about the rules?" "I'm sorry," I whispered, my throat tight. "I was sick again today, and work was—" "Excuses." He ripped away my underwear, the fabric tearing. "You smell like a kitchen maid. Disgusting." I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting back tears. Three years. Three years of being his unwanted wife, forced on him by his grandfather's deal. The old man's words still echoed: "You saved my life, child. Let me give you a good life in return." ***** Five years ago, Elena thought she’d left her nightmare behind. Forced into a loveless marriage with the ruthless Nikolai Ashford, she endured his cold accusations and cruel indifference. But when their toxic relationship threatened the life of her unborn child, she vanished, reinventing herself as Mia Thompson—a confident heiress with a powerful empire of her own. Now, Mia’s carefully rebuilt world is crumbling. One of her twins is gravely ill, and the only hope for survival lies in Nikolai, the man who shattered her heart. Returning to his world isn’t just a desperate gamble to save her child—it’s a chance to exact the revenge she’s dreamed of for years.

"We can't do this," I whispered, even as Jamie's fingers traced my jaw. "Tell me to stop," he commanded, his grey eyes darkening with desire. I should have. But instead: "I can't." His hand slid beneath my shirt. "This is wrong." "Then stop touching me." "I can't." His voice was raw. "Every night I think about you. About this." When his mouth finally claimed mine, it tasted like sin and salvation. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around him, and reality dissolved. "Right now, you're mine," he growled against my neck. "Even knowing what it costs?" I gasped. "Even then." What happened in that kitchen was unforgivable. Beautiful and terrible and absolutely devastating. But our secret didn't stay buried. When a mysterious text arrives—*"I saw what you did"*—followed by photos taken through my window, I realize someone was watching. Someone knows. And they're not just threatening to tell Aiden. They're playing a twisted game where we're all pieces on the board. As paranoia turns to obsession and obsession bleeds into violence, I face an impossible truth: the person I should fear most might be the one I thought I knew best. **Some secrets refuse to stay buried. Some desires demand everything. And some love stories end in blood.**

Eighty-five raw, dripping, boundary-shattering stories. Eighty-five ways to get fucked senseless. This isn’t romance. This is pure, merciless sin—cocks stretching tight, dripping pussies, tongues licking where they were never meant to go, and strong hands pinning you down until you’re begging, shaking, and ruined. From forbidden priests breaking their vows to claim you on the altar, to ruthless stepfathers spreading you open on the kitchen counter while your mother sleeps upstairs. From powerful doctors “examining” you until you’re soaking their gloves, to billionaire best friends fucking you raw behind your husband’s back. You’ll be sold at a dark private auction, stripped and displayed like a prize. You’ll pay rent with your holes in the filthiest ways imaginable. Professors, gym instructors, landlords, and strangers in the shadows will take every inch of you—rough, deep, and without mercy. These virgins will have their bellies pumped full of cum. Fingers will rip through tight, wet walls until you’re screaming, crying, and begging for more. Public fucks, forbidden touches, gangbangs, and nights so dirty you’ll need to shower twice—only to touch yourself all over again. Get your towels. Get your toys. Get ready to be wrecked by every filthy fantasy you’ve ever had… and a hundred more you didn’t know you craved. If you can’t handle raw, dripping-hot, mind-corrupting sex—close the book now. If you want your pussy aching, your ass red, and your mind utterly ruined… welcome to Sinful Surrender.