The Cradle Book Novels & Stories

Both are here on GN. If you'd like another BL book, check out Subduing the Alpha or I am Not Your Love Story which is also on GN. Please note that Subduing the Alpha has two versions, the completed BL version and the hetro version which is still being edited for a female lead. And, if you're tired of romance stories and would like some adventure and fantasy, please check out Adventures of the Crown. Book 1 is completed and book 2 is ongoing. Both are on GN and MN.

Liam had snatched whatever I had. I didn't know when my tears started to fall. All I did in my life was cry. Pregnancy should be a nice period in a woman's life. But it seems like I am not included in that category. I have been crying throughout my pregnancy and I am tired of it. I wanted it to end so that I could enjoy this period with a smile. I want to be loved. But it looks like I am asking for something which is not in my destiny. In Cruel Destiny.

Kael's POV I broke the first cradle on a Wednesday. Not violently. I was examining the joints — the construction, the stability, whether the wood grain was correctly oriented for the load — and I had been gripping the side rail with both hands while I rocked it to test the motion, and the side rail came away in my hands. I set it down. I looked at it. Riven's replacement — Kade — appeared in the doorway of the nursery at the sound. He looked at the cradle.

Too many moving parts, too many loose ends and it was too messy. I'd blatantly refused. And days later, they brought me the redhead upstairs. A collateral, he'd said. Now he says she was a present? I looked at him and his smile widened. “The girl,” he clarified. “Has she been a hard nut to crack?” A small smile pulled at my mouth. “She talks too much," I simply said. That earned another laugh. Cruz grinned. “That means she still has spirit," he shrugged. "Give it time.”

He ground against me, riding out his release, his groans mixing with the crowd's cheers. Instead of pulling out, Zade began to roll of his hips. Every thick inch dragged against my oversensitive walls, stirring the mess of his cum and my slick into a filthy, wet glide. The slow grind kept me stretched and full, never letting the ache fade, never letting my body come down.

I always craved something more intense, something that would push me to my limits and beyond, leaving me broken and begging. That's what led me to this stupid idea on Christmas Eve. I was alone in my cramped apartment, the snow outside building up against the windows like a white prison wall. Bored out of my mind, I pulled out this ancient book I'd snagged from a shady thrift store downtown. It was all about old Alpine myths, and tucked away in the yellowed pages was a ritual for summoning Krampus… not the watered-down version from holiday movies, but the genuine article, the horned devil who dragged the wicked straight to hell for their sins.

Everything led back to her and our kiss and I wanted to do it over and over again, and more. I fell on the bed, kicking my shoes off and picking up my favorite book. La Divina Commedia, a three-part poem about the travels through the three regions, Hell, Purgatory and Paradise. It was an immediate distraction from my tormenting thoughts and the fact Emiliana was only down the hall. Or so I thought. Soft knocks, almost inaudible, tapped on my door. Louder ones followed before the door swung open.

Tears brimmed my eyes at the thought of my mother, of how much I missed her and, more importantly, how much I wished she were here. “Are you going to read it?” Oli whispered. Without wasting another second, I peeled open the paper. My eyes widened as a delicate wedding crown stared back at me from within a simple jewellery bag. Silver bands intertwined with one another, shimmering sapphires dotted carefully around the circumference. It was simple, yet elegant. My eyes scanned over the letter before finally taking in every detail. ‘Dear Mimmo, It seems only yesterday I was holding you in my arms, cuddling you so close and refusing to let go. How time flies when we are ignorant of the beauty o

Claimed by him. Inspired, Tara put the book aside and rummaged around some more in the box. At the very bottom her fingers brushed by something firm and long-just what she was looking for. She pulled out her hidden toy, a rabbit vibrator, squeezing the firm yet yielding gel shaft into her palm and stroking the clit stimulator in slow deliberate circles.

"What did you do?" Grace tilted her head, a gesture so reminiscent of the Digital Saint that Panni felt her heart stutter. "I silenced the noise, Papa. The Vault is a cage. Lucien is a collector. But the Cradle... the Cradle is where the music was written before the 'Contract' ever existed." Panni reached out, her fingers hovering inches from Grace’s cheek. She was terrified that if she touched her, she would find marble instead of skin. "Grace, baby, talk to me. This isn't you. This is Silas... he’s trying to use you."