Swindler Akudama Drive

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT:Strictly 18+ “I can’t…..take it….any…more.mm..you...I.!” She cried out loudly, but not of pain more like an unbearable pleasure, at the same instance, Andre claimed her lips fully into his, going harder and harder. His plan? To make her completely his and to drive crazy as she did to him, it was a sweet revenge that Andre could definitely die for, wave after wave, after wave of undulating pleasure continued to rage and roil through her body but Andre didn’t stop, his fingers continue to graze her sweet spot with every creamy thrust, until she crashed against him with a shuddering release, her teeth biting softly on his ear robe, her soft quivering sounds filling his ear. Gently he rested her back on the car seat, as though it wasn’t enough for him, he opened the door and walked over to the other side and opened Arianna's door. Standing two feet from her, he pulled off his t-shirt out from his head, Arianna was out of breathe watching him, her olive face turned pink with hot pleasure, her legs still widely apart the way he had left it. She noticed a new tattoo on his chest as the lightening shine like a divine touch on his beautiful wet body contouring the abs and every muscle in his torso and slowly her eyes went lower, his wet pant made his arousal obvious, his erection so big and huge that it gave her chills, and her throat sudden dryness. What's worse than realizing that your sweet anonymous lover from a secret dating site,whom you fall Inlove with is actually your spoilt, arrogant,self centered and sadist CEO! Whom you hated so much. But can she be able to tame this monster?

I got a car straight from the Lycan Chairman himself—a ride costs more than tens of millions and can turn every traffic light green. I got it because the Lycan Chairman once fell on the battlefield, his heart torn open. And me? I'm the one bound to him by a blood-sealed contract, the only secret healer who could save his life. To win me golden hour for surgeries, I was awarded with such an honored ride. I treated it like sacred ground, kept it hidden in my mate Yorick's underground garage, polished and guarded, ready for the day the Lycan Chairman might need me again. That day came. The summons burned in my hand, urgent and sharp. I rushed to the garage, ready to drive, and the second I approached the garage, a strange woman slid into the back seat. "Take me to the Nighty Bar," she ordered, flipping her hair. "Yorick had waited for me minutes. If he's mad at me being late, I'll make you regret it." My hands froze on the wheel. "This is my car," I told her, calm but firm. "I have urgent business. You need to get out. Now." She sneered. "What a joke. A chauffeur pretending to be the owner? You must have a death wish." Her soldiers glanced at me sideways, voice dripping with disdain. "Everyone in the pack knows that this car is Alpha's exclusive for picking up Selene! You're just a little healer. Do yourself a favor and listen to her." Their words cut sharper than any blade. The car that carried the highest secret of the werewolf race, the car tied to the Chairman's very heartbeat, in their mouths, it was nothing more than a toy. A plaything my mate used to please another she-wolf. They wanted me to bow. To surrender. To sit there, silent, while they spat on me. But what they didn't know, the Lycan Chairman's soldiers were already on their way.

I died... and then I died again. “Vale,” I moaned, my voice fractured. He met my gaze, his heart racing. “Yes, baby.” I whimpered softly, my breath hitching as his name escaped my lips once more. “V–Vale–!” “You want to make a mess in your pants again, don’t you?” He asked, locking his gaze with my watery eyes as he pulled my face down to meet his by my throat. “Such a naughty vampire, you were so messy and sticky all over your thighs just earlier, and now you want to do it again,” he murmured hoarsely, watching as I cried out in response. Where had all that macho boldness disappeared? He wondered. Just moments ago, I was ready to drive him insane with my teasing, and now I was a mess, a puddle melting away in his hands, completely at his mercy. The power dynamic shifted, and he reveled in my surrender, eager to push me further into this wild desire. **** Talon/Virgil faces an agonizing cycle of deaths. In his first life, his love was crushed, and he was murdered—only for fate to repeat its cruel game in his next existence. How many more deaths must he suffer before he can find the happiness he's been relentlessly pursuing? Just when Talon believes he’s finally found peace, fate spins him back into chaos, casting him into a void once again. This time, he awakens from a coma to discover he's inhabiting the body of a stepbrother he never knew existed until, of course, he awakened in his body—a married man with a family. As Talon grapples with his new reality, he must balance the façade of being a devoted stepbrother, husband, and father while yearning for the one true love that has haunted him through the ages.

My Alpha mate, Dominic, rules the entire Stormfang Pack, but in our ten years together, he has never once given me a gift. Even our bonding tokens—a pair of rare healing crystals that cost me an entire year's savings—were taken by him without hesitation. He claimed that as Alpha he needed to appear frugal and understated, which is why he marked me in secret without hosting a proper mating ceremony. Because of this, most pack members don't even know I'm his mate. Yet when Sylvia, his childhood sweetheart, returned to Stormfang territory, he publicly announced their mating plans. He even dipped into the pack's long-term savings to throw her an extravagant celebration. When my mother was attacked by rogue wolves and left critically wounded, I begged Dominic to return my healing crystals—the only things that could save her life. Instead of helping, he denied knowing me in front of the entire pack and ordered his guards to drive me away with burning torches. Later, my mother died during the Blood Moon Festival. I lost my only family during what should have been our most sacred celebration. I renounced my Stormfang membership that same night and accepted the Northern Shadow Pack's Chief Healer position. While packing my belongings, Dominic returned from his honeymoon with Sylvia. He found me and assumed I was merely sulking. For the first time ever, he made a generous offer: "Come on, what could possibly happen to your mother? At worst, I'll give you that fancy mating ceremony you've always wanted. That should satisfy her desire to be an Alpha's mother-in-law." What he didn't realize was that from the moment my mother died, I had already sworn to the Moon Goddess that our mate bond would be broken forever.

Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion. However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her. He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave. My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides. ___________________________ “Yes please.” She begs. “Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy. It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric. But I never claimed to be saint. “Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.” “Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.” I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.” Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks. “Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.” “Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads. “Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.” I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

He was tricked into the Lone Wolf’s den and fell into a silver trap. The trap was filled with countless silver nails that burned into his wounds. He had a chance to survive—even if he would lose his Inner Wolf, at least his life could be saved, as long as he could be treated by the healer. But my Alpha husband, Anthony, the noble leader of the wolf pack, took the only healer away, giving him to his white moonlight son, Lucas, to treat his wounds. Meanwhile, our son, in the treatment room next door, could not heal from the silver-inflicted wounds. His blood flowed continuously until his golden wolf eyes lost all their light. I mentally reached out to Anthony, begging him to let me see our son one last time, but in the eyes of that high-and-mighty Alpha, there was nothing but disgust for our child. "Your son is truly ‘exceptional’—weak like a pup, yet he dared to enter the Lone Wolf’s den!" "Lucas nearly got pierced by a silver blade trying to save him! And what did your son do? He ran away without a second thought!" "I will not acknowledge such a cowardly bloodline! From this day on, his right to inherit is revoked!" After he spoke, he severed the mental link. My blood froze in my veins. In that moment, my dying cub shared his memories with me— I saw Lucas drive the silver nails into his own palm. I saw him turn and flee when the Lone Wolf attacked, while my child, despite trembling in pain, chose to fight the Lone Wolf to protect the pack. Until the very end, he fulfilled the duty of an Alpha’s son. And Anthony dares to say he is unworthy of the “Alpha bloodline”? That night, the moonlight over the wolf territory turned crimson. Anthony, you will soon realize— It wasn’t just my son’s flesh that was pierced by silver, but your prejudice as well! Your prejudice killed your own child.

I never called my stepbrother, Victor Rossi, "brother." I loved him. In my previous life, I forced him to marry me, and we became the most infamously miserable couple in New Hampston's mafia circles. On Monday, he threw me into a lion's cage after starving the beast for three days. On Tuesday, I tied him to a spinning wheel and forced him to play Russian roulette. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because we had grown up side by side, yet even after ten years of marriage, he could not forget the woman from the fishing village. Even in bed, wrapped around each other, we hurled the cruelest curses at one another. When the cruise ship went up in flames, Victor gave me his chance to live. He shoved me onto the last lifeboat, his voice gentler than it had ever been. "This life was exhausting. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Live well. In the next life, let me go." I watched the fire swallow him along with the ship. The deep sea buried everything. The light in my eyes went out with it. I threw myself into the freezing water and ended that absurd, painful life with my own hands. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the moment I forced him to marry me. In this life, I would not destroy us both. As I watched him kneel before me, defiant even in the face of death, I did not drive away the woman he loved as I had before. "I will let you have her." Under Victor's stunned gaze, my eyes reddened as I spoke softly. "This time, I am the one who does not want you."

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

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?