Unscramble Curling

I thought Christmas had already broken me. Betrayal, loss, and a miscarriage that shattered everything I’d built. So I did the only reckless thing a heart in ruins could do: closed my eyes, jabbed a finger at a map, and bought a ticket to wherever it landed. No plan. No hope. Just a wounded heart running from the wreckage. I wanted quiet. Snow. A place to breathe and heal. I found him instead. A man who feels too wild for this world, all heat and muscle and dark, hungry eyes. He kisses like he’s claiming something. Touches like he’s learning every secret my body holds. His strength borders on impossible. His presence, addictive. He calls me his naughty little Christmas gift. And every time he drags his mouth down my throat, I forget every reason I had to stay guarded. But the deeper I fall, the stranger things become. The room around him feels alive. The night listens when he speaks. His eyes flash with an animal glow that shouldn’t exist, and the sound he makes when he’s holding back, low, guttural, trembling the air between us doesn’t belong to any man. I should run. Ask questions. Save myself. But I’m far too gone. Even willing to be ruined by whatever he is. So I ignore the question whether I’m losing my mind, or whether the fear curling beneath the heat is real. And let him keep unwrapping me like the gift he thinks I am. Because whatever lives inside him…it’s the first thing that’s made me feel alive again.

“You look perfect like this,” one whispered, fingers down my thigh. “I wondered if you really killed her, did you?” Cuffed, wrists above my head, legs bare and open, one ran a flogger over my belly. I arched back, gasping. Another leaned in, breath hot at my neck. The third stood at the edge of the bed, watching me squirm. “We don’t even need to touch you to make you beg.” Then he finally did, he slipped two fingers straight between my legs, slow and deep. “Oh my god,” I moaned, hips bucking. “You’re this wet already?” he growled, curling his fingers inside me. “And we haven’t even started fucking you yet.” The one at my neck licked a trail down to my collarbone. “You killed her. Admit it.” I shook my head, but my body gave me away. My legs were shaking. I was clenching around his fingers like I’d never been touched before. "I didn't do it." I moaned again “Say whose hole this is,” he demanded. “M-mine—” The flogger struck my thigh. “Try again." I looked up, breathless. “Yours. Fuck. It’s yours.” ******** Chloe was sent to Nightshade Academy, the same elite school where her sister allegedly took her own life. To earn her father’s approval and uncover the truth, she had no choice but to go. Now, after another student is found dead, Chloe was the prime suspect due to the circumstances surrounding the death. Tied by an unbreakable bond to the three Alpha triplets sent to catch the killer. Now, Chloe is caught in their dangerous web. Worse? She’s mated to all three who are determined to make her accept to the crime.

Eric Clapton never expected his ex-wife would move on overnight, and be living her best life. His friends have always mocked him for marrying such an ugly woman. When his mistress showed up, he couldn't exercise the smallest patience to stay married to Liana. "My mind is made up, Liana. Let's get a divorce. $90 million and the penthouse in Rochester will be compensation for your mental damage. Is that enough?" Eric put down the envelope and pen on the pillow beside her. Liana sat up, eyes glued to the man she has dedicated three years of her life to. "Is that all you have to say and offer?" She asked, her eyes holding a trace of detachment. Eric was stuck in thoughts. This was unlike the fragile and indecisive woman he married. Liana smiled as she gazed at his unreadable expression. "I can see you're really prepared for this, you know. This is obviously the first time in three years since you returned home before 11:00 pm, Eric." She added, her lips curling up into an enigmatic smile as she decisively scribbled her signature on the papers. The next morning at the courthouse, she held the divorce papers, her fragile heart tearing apart as she watched her ex husband smiling when he walked away, his hands carefully wrapped around another woman's waist while they strode to his car. Seeing him replace her so quickly was really heart wrenching, but right there, she saw another man who just got dumbed by his fiancee at the crucial hour, and without hesitation, she walked up to him and proposed to replace his fiancee. Now, what will Eric do when at the moment of his regret, he realised that she didn't only move on, but she's now his boss's wife?

His hand slid beneath my dress, fingers curling around my thighs with a possessive grip. "I always knew that scumbag couldn't treat you right," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips traced a slow path from my jaw to my neck. "Still can't figure out what you ever saw in him." I drew in a shaky breath as his hands moved higher, fingertips brushing the band of my panties, sending a jolt of heat through me. "Women like you are prizes, Sienna," he whispered against my lips, the words melting into my skin. My grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles white. "And prizes? They're meant to be fucking claimed. Owned." In the haze of intoxication, Alexander Grayson looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth—or perhaps he really was. "Can... can you make me forget about Ryatt?" I breathed, my voice trembling. A smirk tugged at his lips, dark and predatory, as his hand slid inside my panties, finding the heat of my wet, aching pussy. A soft moan escaped me, and I clung to him, every nerve alight."I'll make you forget about yourself, flower," with that he crushed his lips to mine. *** From the moment I met Alexander Grayson, I despised him with everything I had. But when with fate's cruel sense of humor he forced his way into my life, everything changed. He was everything I loathed—a womanizer, a violent monster, a spoiled heir with an ego larger than life itself. He should have meant nothing to me. Yet, I learned the truth the hard way: nothing about Alexander Grayson was ever simple. Alex dragged me into the hell he'd created, where he sat as the devil on the throne of darkness And the most terrifying part? I didn’t want to….escape.

“How do you like your cock sucked?” He throws his head back and laughs. My brows furrow. Then his gaze drops to mine again. “You’re cute. But not tonight, Chan.” “But—” “Another time.” Before I can respond, he scoops me up like I am his newlywed bride, arms under my knees and back, and carries me to the bed. He slowly lowers me onto the mattress. His hand slides to the nape of my neck, fingers working into my hair, and he pulls me into a deep, claiming kiss. I close my eyes and melt into it, arms curling around his neck. A moan escapes me when his mouth leaves mine and closes over one nipple. The wet suction sends a jolt straight between my legs. His hand drifts lower, fingers finding my clit and rubbing slowly. The pleasure becomes tight. More moans spill out before I can stop them. I bite my lip hard, trying to stay quiet. My family is downstairs eating dinner. If they hear—if anyone hears—they’ll kill me. He switches to the other breast, sucking harder while his fingers keep working me. ~~~ Chancé has been in love with River Dawson for four years. The charismatic hockey captain is everything she should avoid—magnetic, reckless, and dangerously irresistible. River doesn’t believe in relationships. He doesn’t do love. And according to his twin sister Cortney—Chancé’s best friend—he definitely isn’t someone Chancé should ever get involved with. But when Chancé saves River during a near-drowning accident, the boy she’s secretly loved finally notices her. What begins as a stolen moment quickly becomes a secret, intoxicating affair built on strict rules: no love, no labels, no drama—and absolutely no one can find out. Especially not Cortney.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

"Please," he said, and his voice had gone rough, desperate. "Let me see you. Let me see your face." My hand came up and covered his where it rested on my mask. "Okay," I whispered. He pulled the mask off slowly, carefully, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to seeing without the green tint. His hand was still between my legs, fingers still moving in slow circles that made my breath come in short gasps, but he'd gone very still otherwise. I looked up at him, at the green mask still covering his face. "I want to see you too." He didn't move or speak anymore. Something cold started to spread through my chest, cutting through the heat he'd built there. "What?" I asked. "Am I too ugly to be your mate?" His hand jerked away from me like I'd burned him. The loss of contact made me want to cry out, made my body ache with sudden emptiness. He took a step back, then another, and I could see his hands curling into fists at his sides. His whole body was shaking. "What the fuck," he said, and his voice had gone flat and cold. ***** Kaireen was disowned by her parents just because she rejected a marriage proposal, she stayed the night with her friend, got into an impromptu game that changed her fate, she met her mate, the one thing she never knew she could have but it was her nightmare. Her Bully and her brother who would stop at nothing to make life hell for her, to worsen it all, he needed to mark her to survive in an Island of Cruel Lycans. How did they get there? How will her parents and pack react knowing she was mated to the most cruel Alpha brother.

"Oh God!" I moaned softly, the heat of Noah's breath hitting my neck as he buried his face in it. His large arms wrapped tightly around me like he was telling me I was his forever. My arms also found their way around his neck, my hand grabbing his soft blonde hair as his piercing gaze met mine. His lips moved from my neck back to my lips where it was before. His tongue conquered mine while I squirmed inside and moaned in his mouth. I could feel his hot bulge pressing against my stomach. "we shouldn't be doing this Noah" I said breaking the kiss. "Why? Cause you're my brother's wife?" he questioned me, the corner of his soft full lips curling with a smirk. He didn't wait for a reply before going back in for a kiss. This man I was making out with on the kitchen counter was my husband's brother. *** Nana thought she had it all a high-powered career, a stable marriage to her husband Simon, and a future carefully mapped out by their influential families. But behind closed doors, her perfect life unravels as Simon’s cold indifference leaves her lonely and questioning everything. When Noah, Simon’s charismatic younger half-brother, returns from overseas, he’s no longer the boy she remembers. Now, he’s all grown up and offering the understanding and attraction she’s been starved of. As Simon’s betrayals cut deeper, Noah becomes her unexpected confidant, comforting her in ways she never imagined. Yet, beneath his caring facade, Noah has his own agenda, subtly steering Nana’s broken heart closer to his own. Torn between duty and desire, Nana finds herself trapped between two brothers: one who’s betrayed her and one who promises the passion she craves.

NINA “My wife will ride you for her org-sm and for your come to fill her, so she can do her duty as Mrs. Sokolov.” Jeremiah’s fingers flexed around my throat. “Go on, little wh-re. Climb over him. I know you want to.”   I crawled over Lachlan, curling my fingers around his thick c-ck, and wondered — how big was Jeremiah? How long? How thick? Lachlan hissed, “Kitten, stop playing or I’ll come all over your hand.”   Jeremiah growled, “We can’t have that. All his come belongs in your c-nt, wife. So get on with it.” His lips brushed my ear. “Don’t stretch this out. I have something else that needs stretching.” Shuddering, I got to my knees. As I aligned Lachlan’s c-ck with my entrance, another hand wrapped around mine — larger, slick with oil. Jeremiah.   A moan escaped as my husband guided his lover’s c-ck to my core. I sank down slowly, the stretch burning until I took every inch. “F-ck,” Lachlan groaned. “You’re perfect around me.” “You too,” I moaned, pressed against his chest, lips tangled in a kiss.   Then, without warning, Jeremiah pushed in two fingers — into my other h-le.   I gasped as he stretched my untouched muscles. He didn’t stop. Not until I was full. Everywhere.   Lachlan groaned. “I can feel you.”   “I know,” Jeremiah said, his fingers thrusting deep. “Move.” Lachlan obeyed, lifting me until just his tip stretched me, then pushed me back down. I whimpered. My hips jerked. Lachlan cursed.   “You like that, wife?” Jeremiah’s voice rasped in my ear. “Being used by both of us?”   _ This is a twisted, dark MMF mafia romance where love is savage, hate burns deep, and survival comes at a deadly cost. Read-TW!!!! MF-MM-MFM-Dark-Twisted-Betrayal-Amnesia-Revenge-NonCon-Mafia-Humiliation-Dominated-Controlling-Ruthless-Mystery-Thriller-READ-Trigger-Warnings

“You’re asking me to marry you?” I stared at the cold, unreadable man before me, disbelief curling in my chest—yet something far more dangerous was already slipping through my veins. “Yes.” The single word landed like a verdict. “Marry me, Attorney.” “Y-you don’t even know me…” His gaze didn’t waver. Not even for a second. “I know enough.” His voice dropped, quiet but absolute. “We both want the same thing… revenge.” _____ Eloise didn’t break the day her husband betrayed her. She broke slowly—over the years. And by the time she walked away, there was nothing left to salvage. Except dignity. And a heart that had learned—too late—not to beg for love. She thought that was the end of it. Until the night a man stepped into her life and changed the direction of everything… Nikolai Argos. Cold. Unyielding. A presence that carried authority without ever needing to raise his voice. And when he looked at her, it was as though his world had narrowed. What he offered her was a choice… One that came with consequences neither of them could escape. Because Argos wasn’t just powerful—He was tied to the very past Eloise had fought to leave behind. And stepping toward him meant stepping back into everything she had sworn to forget. But this time…Eloise wasn’t the same woman. Yet somewhere between resistance and inevitability, between control and something far more dangerous—she realized one lethal truth: Nikolai Argos is the most dangerous case she had ever laid her hands on. _______ A tale of quiet strength, hidden mysteries, buried wounds, and a love that doesn’t arrive gently— Because sometimes, the most dangerous man isn’t the one who breaks you… But the one who sees you clearly—and doesn’t walk away.