The Tyrant Beloved Doll Novels & Stories

He asks the stableboy, his palm aches to touch the mare, its body just looks so silky. “It's Ivor’s, I'm afraid no one is allowed to,” the stable boy says, looking apologetic. “You can have it if you want,” The male voice behind says, causing Tyr to spin around, Dark blond hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. Tyr's mouth suddenly feels dry as he stares at the towering warrior, shirtless and his body graced with scarification tattoo that tells stories of his origin. Did he hear right? Perhaps the Alpha just means that he is allowed to pet it; there's no way he would give him this expensive-looking animal.

Takuto Kimura, now three years old, found himself ensconced in the plush, pastel-colored world of kindergarten—a far cry from the high-rise boardrooms and corporate strategies he was accustomed to. The nap room, with its rows of tiny cots and the faint scent of baby powder, was a particular enigma. Today, however, it presented an opportunity he couldn't resist: the legendary Tyrannosaurus rex blanket. This blanket was the ultimate symbol of prestige and power within the kindergarten world. Its soft fabric, warm embrace, and most importantly, its majestic embroidered T-Rex logo had made it the most sought-after commodity. And Takuto, having been given a second chance at life—this time as a to

Darius said just as someone stepped up to the platform and started to go on and on about the tragic death of their alpha and how they decided to make the next best person their alpha. “Alpha Tyrell was one of the rarest gems we had. He was kind, he loved us all equally, putting nobody above us.” In a way, I did believe that he loved them that much. He had made a deal with the hunters to take us in the place of his own people. But the fact that he loved his people was not enough of an excuse to do what he did to us. I would have gone about it in a whole different way.

To the monster who’d bought me like property. I vomited again, my stomach heaving even though there was nothing left to bring up. When I finally stopped, I sat back against the cool tile wall and wiped my mouth with shaking hands. “Fine,” I whispered to the empty bathroom. “Fine. I’ll play your game.” Because that’s what this was now. A game. Dmitri wanted a doll who loved him. Who chose captivity? He proved that his methods worked, that broken women could be remade into something that genuinely wanted to stay.

Dax said, eyes narrowing. “It’s even worse.” The second being entered the world. Fully. Cleanly. Effortlessly. No resistance. Where the Tyrant had forced its way into their world, this one fit perfectly. Its form was tall, almost like a human. Its limbs were slightly too long. Its movements appeared too smooth. Its skin shimmered like dark glass reflecting a sky that had no place in their world. Its face was almost human. Almost. Aria’s stomach dropped. “It is stable…”

He said as he knelt down bringing himself to Liyana’s height. "Liyana," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Would you like to come with me?" Liyana's tear-streaked face looked up at him and her fear was replaced by curiosity for a moment. "Will there be a dollhouse?" she whispered. Valerian didn't hesitate. "I will have the largest one in the world delivered to you. It will have an elevator, a garden, and real lights." Valerian proclaimed and Liyana's eyes immediately widened with glee and then she looked at me with those puppy eyes.

Irene’s POV I peeled it off, hating the way his eyes trailed and lingered on my skin like I was a snack he wanted to devour. “You’re a tyrant.” I hissed, wanting him to feel a fraction of my hatred. He just shrugged lile he couldn’t care about my opinion. “Move faster, dove. We don’t have all night.” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the retort on my tongue as I took of my jeans then my underwear followed.

“Open, little rabbit.” The moment his blood touched his tongue, something inside Kaela shifted. The fog lifted, replaced by a fierce, unnatural need to please him—to be good, to be claimed, to be kept. She no longer wanted to stand on her own. She wanted his arms, his scent, his approval. Yet a smaller, furious part of her still recoiled. “This is blood,” she whispered, turning her face away. “I can’t—”

Teiran stroked my hair, then guided me off Xaden after a minute and toward himself instead. I took Teiran into my mouth the same way, hollowing my cheeks and sucking while Xaden’s fingers returned between my thighs, sliding through me. They alternated like that, feeding me their cocks one after the other while their fingers kept working inside me, stretching, curling, keeping me on the edge. “Such a good girl,” Teiran groaned when I took him particularly deep. “Look at you.” Xaden’s fingers rubbed firmly against my front wall. “Come again while you suck him.”

He'd given her a necklace that cost a few hundred dollars, money he'd saved for a long time. She'd held that simple piece of jewelry and cried like a fool who'd never seen anything so beautiful. He had been so proud then, thinking he was the prince saving Cinderella. A joke. It was all a fucking joke. She was the Thorne Principessa. She'd probably seen more diamonds than he'd seen rocks. Rocco remembered the tattoo, a tangle of black thorns and a blood-red rose between her shoulder blades, wild and dangerous. He used to kiss it every time they made love.