Unholy Player Novels & Stories

“Bad girls don’t get to cum on the first night. You’ll sleep like this — wet, horny, and aching. Maybe tomorrow I’ll give you more.” He pulled my thong back into place and gave my ass one final hard slap. “Get under the covers. Sleep. I’ll check on you in the morning.” Uncle Ken walked to the door, but before leaving he looked back at me. “Welcome to your new life for the next seven days, Hilda. Try to behave or not. I enjoy breaking naughty girls like you.” He closed the door. I lay there in the dark, ass stinging, pussy dripping, nipples hard, and my body burning with desire.

It was such a fantasy that neither of them could really believe it, but despite their shock, they had to fight with the Alliance against Foehn representatives. To the spectators' surprise, aside from Cajun and Horan, the Alliance had a mystery champion in their ranks—and he was Ether Lord rank eight!

Who was even worse. He didn’t even try to be subtle. When I wore a tank top, he stared. When I bent down to grab something, he stood right behind me. When I said I was a virgin once during a game of truth or drink, Hale had the audacity to smirk and whisper, “Bet you taste sweet though.” I laughed it off. But now I can’t stop hearing his voice. Or hers. Because Hale brought a girl over tonight. Some random blonde with long lashes and fake moans who clearly wanted both of them to touch her. And I think they did.

" Is this how you tried to play petty so you could discourage me from toping JL? " That was Theo's next question that stole away my breath. " Dahlia is this how you tell lies just... " " I am telling you the truth Theo! " I yelled out crazily. He just said something about me playing petty for JL's sake. No! " Why should I tell lies about someone being my father? Mr Lawn of Lawn Tower is set to marry mother. He enrolled me into this college. Provided everything that I needed. He is a good man and as for JL, I would never play petty concerning his win or loss. He is a fighter. He is determined to take the throne away from you Theo. If I were you I won't be too relaxed. Once jasper Lawn is set

"It seems that football player Hunter Blanco is in a serious affair with a Spanish American woman. The two were seen for the first time in the player's car outside a famous pub in Barcelona, ​​but she had her head down and didn't show her face. It turns out to be the same girl in this photo, because of the matching hair colour in the recent photos taken. Was she a call girl? Is that why she didn't want to show her face? What does this girl want?" It was a magazine I have read before, but I still can’t digest what I just read. I am in disbelief. Isn’t this magazine supposed to be serious and honest? Why don't they seek to know the truth before handing out hideous lies? I read about five more

A male voice, that I didn’t know, asked. Looking up, I saw a male player, standing a few feet away. His character was a vampire, but he was wearing the armor of a Hunter. Hunters in this game were players that found pleasure in attacking other players for their gold pieces and items. Granted, only common items could be looted.

The air tasted wrong—metallic and stale, like a room that hadn't been opened in a hundred years. "They're here," I said. I looked toward the entrance at the far end of the rink. Three figures stepped out . They weren't wearing hockey gear. They were wearing ragged black suits. Their skin was the color of a bruise, and their eyes were glowing with a sickly, pulsing purple light. The Hollow Ones. They didn't even howl. The first one leaped onto the ice, its claws extending six inches from its fingertips. It swiped at a defensive player, sending the boy flying into the boards with a sickening thud.

I started scrolling, digging into the biography of the man on the poster, Horace. "Tulia," I murmured, staring at his icy blue eyes on the screen. "What do you know about him? About Horace?" Tulia froze, the damp cloth hovering over my skin. She looked toward the door as if his name alone could summon a ghost. "He is a monster in a jersey, my lady," she whispered. "People say he’s the most ruthless player to ever step onto the ice in the Northern Territory. They call him the ice Reaper because once he targets a player, he doesn't stop until their career is over. He never forgets a debt, and he never, ever forgives."

Malik Al-Mansoori swaggered towards us. He always referred to himself as the prodigal son because he was wayward and reckless in every way you could ever think of. Malik was just a few inches shorter than Jackson, with olive skin, curly dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped toffee brown eyes. Despite his recklessness, Malik was an information broker. He possessed a wealth of knowledge and insight.

I rolled my eyes. "He's been mind-wiped," Sagon told me. I grabbed Noah's hand and the amulet to return to hell. I shoved Noah at Lucifer and asked if Grace could change his metal work or any angel. "He's unholy and needs redemption in order to fight against Anna and get our baby girl," I growled. Noah looked at me and grinned. "We had sex and a kid?" I glared at him and told him, yes and we are also mates. His eyes got wide and so did his smile.