Throat Tightness

Grant, the heir to the Bennett family, had been my protector for over a decade. He taught me how to fire my first shot and saved me from every attempt on my life. After someone slipped drugs into Grant's drink at the family gathering, he stumbled into my room, and his icy control shattered. His hands found my waist as he pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered my name. A single night of drugged passion left me pregnant with his child. When my twin sister, Claire, found out, she left a note and disappeared, heartbroken. After that, I was cast as the cold-hearted villain who drove her own sister away. Grant personally forced the contraceptive potion down my throat and exiled me to the lawless territories beyond our family's control. To make me atone, he abandoned me to fend for myself in that desolate land. I was eventually killed in the crossfire of a mob war. As I lay dying, my mind was flooded with memories of Grant. The troublemaker he always called me was finally gone. He must have been relieved. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the morning after that disastrous night. This time, without hesitation, I drank the contraceptive potion myself.

“Why do you suddenly want out of this marriage? Who the fuck are you screwing, you dumb bitch?!” “I'm not screw-” I tried to explain, but he was already on me and I screamed as he dragged me up by my neck, his hand so tight on my throat I couldn’t breathe. “Who is it?!” he growled. “Who the fuck would dare!” ---- In a world absent the mate bond, alliances were formed through blood, power, and betrayal rather than fate. Makena Blackwell was born into the mafia's lowest-ranking position, promised at birth to a powerful heir in exchange for her family's survival. She was ready to marry him. But he was ready to destroy her. On the night she was meant to die, however, something impossible happened. A man rose from the icy steel trays of her father’s morgue. He was a stranger, with no memory, no name, and no pulse. And when their gazes met, fate spoke the word they never expected to hear in their lifetime, echoing so loudly in their souls it shook the very fabric of their being. “Mate!” The man the world left for dead wasn’t just anyone; he was the dread every mafia house feared, and he was hers. She was promised to a prince of power… but fate gave her the king of the dead.

"Is this what you wanted? On your knees, getting fucked by the man you should be calling 'Daddy'?" In the mirror, I'm on all fours. He flips my skirt up, one hand crushing my throat, the other slapping my ass raw as his massive cock slams into me without warning. I'm trembling so hard I can barely hold myself up. But he won't let me fall. "Ass up." He bends me over, his hand a firm pressure on my back. Lorenzo Vitale. The most feared mafia godfather in New York. He never gives an order twice. ** On my birthday, my boyfriend betrayed me for power—fucking Lorenzo's adopted daughter behind my back. They drugged me, sent me into a BDSM club to become Lorenzo's plaything, tried to destroy my reputation. What they didn't know? Twelve years ago, Lorenzo adopted the wrong girl. I'm the real mafia princess. Now he's begging for me back. But I've already fallen for the man I should be calling Daddy. I fantasized about being fucked by him—a forbidden desire I had no right to feel.

"Whose child is this?" His voice was cold and icy, blood shot eyes drilling holes in her watery ones. Scared, she cowered back only for her back to met the wall. A sob of pure horror left her parched throat, her hands lifting up to shield her already bruised face. "I asked," He stepped dangerously closer to her, his hot breath fanning the back of her hands. His sandalwood scent which used to calm her nerves in past, today did nothing other than heightening her fear. "Whose." His rough hands yanked her soft ones from her face, before clasping her jaw tightly, his fingers digging in her bruised skin making her wince. "Child" He whispered deadly, leaning down till his stern lips were brushing over her quivering ones. Tears after tears dripped down her cheeks. "Is in your stomach?" His already tight hold had tightened in bruising manner, making her flinch hard. Her head began to spin in fright, darkness invading her vision. Her heart pleading for some miracle. That wasn't the first question, her husband was supposed to ask her on her wedding night.

DARK ROMANCE! "I-I love him," she stammered, shivering under his intense gaze. But his whisper sent shivers down her spine. "But I love you," he said, his smirk hinting at a dark intention that left her numb. "Leave me! I'm not yours!" she protested, her brown eyes wide with fear, shock, and sadness. Yet, her sparkling tears only drew him in. He leaned in closer, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch a mix of tenderness and menace. "How can I, kitten, when you're already mine? Trapped with me, sinfully," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Her throat constricted in fear as she realized escape was impossible. But his next words crushed her world. "Punishment time, kitten," he growled, his voice dripping with lust and obsession. His dark eyes seemed to devour her, leaving her knees weak. A lone tear escaped her eye as she realized she was trapped. He would cage her, sinfully. She was a bright doll, but his darkness shattered her hopes. She was a vast ocean, and he was a pirate who'd found his treasure in her - a treasure he'd claim by any means. @2024darkoceanfics

* "I'm a fairy, the last of my kind. I'm not all rainbow wings and fairy dust. I am chaos and mayhem. Blood and death. I am here for revenge!" My mate holds me against the floor as she looks down at me defiantly. It's so cute! She even has a wee little knife to my throat as she yells at me. I can't help but get excited about how much fun this is going to be. "Fuck, that's hot baby doll." I say seriously as my dragon starts to purr for her.* The revolution began when a strong group of shifters known as 'The council' decided that magic wielders held too much power in this world. They have hunted and killed men, women and children alike, basking in their spot at the top of the food chain. They have no idea what is waiting in the shadows, hiding under their beds and ready to slit their throats. The resistance, led by one little dangerous fairy they call 'Slayer'. She is ready to lay down her life to bring back balance to the world and nothing will stand in her way. Not even the cinnamon roll dragon, broody vampire, smitten hellhound, loyal werewolf and cocky siren who all claim that she is their soulmate, and they won't take no for an answer.

"Please, Eli... I can't do this. You're my brothers' best friend. What will they say when they find-" "You're my mate, Brie. And neither Xavier nor Xander can do a damn thing about it. You. Are. Mine... all mine." Eli whispers over my lips as he presses closer to me. My breath hitched and caught in my throat, and my heart beat quickened, creating tension inside me. Elijah Sterling is my brother's best friend. I was born a triplet, the only girl, to Alpha Alarick Dannelly and Luna Olivia. I have always been obedient and reserved. Never had a boyfriend, let alone... thought of being intimate with anyone. But the second I set foot back in my pack when I returned from college, I was met with Elijah's piercing gaze. His aura was fierce and provocative, and he's only gotten sexier over the years. How will I ever be able to compose myself around him? ~~~~ Brielle Dannelly sets off in a steamy mating bond with her childhood friend, Elijah Sterling, her new pack beta, and her new mate. But his love obsession for her is the least of her worries. What will she do when her old bully returns, with one goal: steal Elijah from her.

Jada prayed and asked God to provide a miracle that would be a solution to her family’s problems. They had always been poor, but this was the worst situation they had ever been in. Her father had to be taken to the hospital two weeks ago, and she had become the sole provider for their home. Marilou had given them what money she had that she could to help, but she wasn’t exactly rolling in money herself. The young girl had a huge responsibility placed upon her shoulders, but she was determined not to lose their home or have the children sent to foster care. She had been waiting tables and using her tips to buy gas and groceries, but it was barely enough most days. Her paycheck had not been enough to pay all the bills since her father had let them get so far behind. Mrs. DeRoya cleared her throat, signaling that she would answer the girl. “Miss Pence, I only had one child, my son Brayden here. My husband was also an only child. So, unless Brayden produces an heir, our bloodline here in the United States is lost. What we need is a surrogate to carry the child. If you sign the contract, when the child is born you will receive one million dollars to take your siblings and go have a good life,” she said, staring at her without emotion.

She thinks he’s a monster. He thinks she’s fate. And she ran. But what if the real danger was yet to be unleashed? Trigger Warning: This book contains morally gray werewolves, aggressive mate bonds, and a love interest who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. Forced intimacy? Physical, magical, boy on girl, girl on girl... Dubious consent? Why stop at the MMC? If you like your romance with a side of "this is probably a red flag," proceed with caution (and maybe a glass of wine). A fantasy adventure steeped in dark romance, where a haunted warrior may be the submissive heroine’s greatest protector—or her ruin. She ran from him once, but fate, magic, and desire dragged her back. He destroyed her life, and now, with the future of the world at stake, he can’t trust himself not to destroy her again. CHAPTER PREVIEW: Lyra swallowed hard, her throat dry, but the words escaped her lips before she could stop them. “I’m a reject,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The man who was supposed to be my mate chose my sister instead.” His palms slammed the wall beside her head as his roar blew the hair out of her face. Lyra flinched, recoiling. His growl deepened, reverberating through the small space. “Whoever rejected you is irrelevant,” he snarled, his voice dripping with finality. “You. Belong. To me.”

“What do you want, Aria?” I swallow hard, my palms sweaty. “I need to talk to you. About... us.” His look doesn’t alter, and for a second, I worry if he’s just going to walk away again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he straightens up, his gaze never leaving mine. “There is no ‘us,’ Aria,” he replies, his voice flat and cold. I feel a knot building in my throat, but I go forward. “You felt it, didn’t you? The tie between us. You can’t refute it.” He approaches closer, and for a minute, I think I see something flicker in his eyes, something that nearly seems like sorrow. But it’s gone as swiftly as it appeared. “You’re not my mate, Aria,” he replies, his voice tightening. “Don’t fool yourself.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I take a step back, my vision fading as the weight of his rejection slams over me. My heart feels like it’s being pulled apart, piece by piece. How can he say that? How can he deny what’s so painfully clear to me? “Damian, I...” I whispered, but he cut me off, his voice colder than ever. “I don’t want you, Aria. You mean nothing to me.” And with that, he turns and goes away, leaving me standing there, crushed.