What Promise Did Sans Make

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

After the night of the full moon, my daughter - Lily was declared lost to the Rampage—her mind shattered, her wolf consumed by madness. Pack law is clear: when a wolf-blood is deemed uncontrollable, their guardian must sign the Blood Pact. The moment the pact takes effect, their body belongs to the pack. My Alpha husband, Liam Blackwood, urged me to sign. He said it was an honor to serve the pack. He said our daughter would have wanted to save other pups. Holding our daughter's broken, wasted body, I wept until I had nothing left. But that night, at the end of the corridor, I heard her voice. Elena Vance. The pack's youngest Shaman Healer. And the woman Liam had loved before me—the one who got away. "Lily's marrow is a perfect match." "Once Sophie signs the Blood Pact, I can harvest the marrow and brew the antidote. It will save your daughter. Our daughter." Later, Elena's daughter walked out of that treatment center, healthy and whole. My daughter walked out in an urn. I stormed the Alpha Mansion to demand the truth. But before I could speak, Dark Magic ripped through my veins. My wolf surfaced against my will—violent, uncontrollable. The pack guards tore me apart. My last sight was Liam shielding Elena and her daughter from the bloodshed. "Don't look," he murmured, covering their eyes. "You'll have nightmares." I died clutching the wolf fang necklace my daughter left behind—burning with hatred, drowning in regret. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the treatment center. Back in that sterile white room. Back before I signed my daughter's life away. I turned to the bed where my little girl thrashed against iron chains. This time, I swore it: They will pay. In blood.

“You’ve been imagining me doing this to you, huh, toy? Making you scream and cum?” he taunted, his fingers fucking me harder, his grip unrelenting. They shouldn’t want it. They shouldn’t do it. But they always do. This collection dives deep into the dirtiest corners of desire, obsession, control, and the thrill of being caught. Every story pushes boundaries, blurring lines between danger and ecstasy, pain and pleasure, power and surrender. The women in this book want to be fucked in every hole to cum relentlessly and fucked till they have cum dripping down their legs. Make Me Wet is dark, explicit, and unapologetically filthy, a forbidden fantasy you’ll wish was real. So sit back, relax and of course get wet!

The day two students got into a dispute, I ran into Morris Freeman, my ex from ten years ago. The boy who had been fighting wiped his tears and called him "Dad". Morris froze when he saw me, then finally remembered what was going on and apologized. "Ms. Langstaff, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation by the book and wrapped everything up. When it was over, he lagged behind, clearly wanting to say something. "Back then, I remember you didn't want to be a teacher." I gave a faint smile and walked him to the office door. "People change. So do their ideas." Just like my feelings for him. That chapter had been closed a long time ago.

Sixty-nine ways to make you sin. Sixty-nine positions to leave you soaked, dripping, trembling, begging for more until your bellies are bloated with hot loads of cum. These daddies do not hand you candies. They want your mouth wrapped around their dirty, hungry cocks. This is not romance. This is not gentle bedtime stories. This is pure, filthy desire, grown men with hungry mouths, ruthless hands, and cocks that know exactly how to make you cum undone. Neighbors with dark smiles. Daddies who do not ask, only take. Stepbrothers who turn one look into a night you will never forget. From late-night encounters that start with a knock and end with your legs shaking, to a therapist giving you private sessions that blur the line between control and surrender, every story drags you deeper. Tongues that do not stop. Fingers that find every weak spot. Bodies locked together in positions designed to break you open and keep you wet. These innocent virgins are adults with secrets they are ready to unleash, craving dominance, chasing the edge, surrendering to pleasure that leaves them gasping. And wet. And dripping for these daddies. Each story pushes them into new positions, new sins, and orgasms they cannot take back. No rules. No apologies. Just sweat-slick skin, whispered commands, and climaxes that hit hard and do not let go. If you want sweet, close the book. If you want dirty, and your sheets soaked; if you need your pussy throbbing, your thighs slick, and your thoughts twisted, step into this wet dream. This is your dirty fix to get your lips swollen, panties ruined, your new wet obsession. Note: A few stories contain incest. Welcome to 69 Positions: Make Me Cum Daddy.

Il n'aurait jamais dû tomber amoureux d'elle. À présent, il est prêt à tout pour la protéger. Diego De' Luca est un impitoyable chef de la mafia italienne, les mains tachées de sang et de nombreux ennemis. Sa fiancée s'enfuit et sa jeune sœur doit prendre sa place. Isabella Ford est pure, réticente, mais parfaitement préparée. Elle n'a qu'un seul objectif chez les De' Luca et elle doit le mener à bien, même si cela doit lui coûter la vie. ****** Ses mains calleuses m'ont agrippée les bras, les plaquant au-dessus de ma tête. « Tu es ma femme, je devrais savoir à quoi tu ressembles sous ces vêtements hideux. » « Tu as cinq secondes pour te déshabiller, sinon je te les arrache. »

Entering a one-sided love isn't easy, especially if the relationship you have is only for a business. "Why do you have to be alive?" My lips loosened up as I sensed the bitterness in his voice. It is as if he hates my existence so much that he has to do something for me to be gone already. "Why do you even need to be existed in this fucking world if you're just going to ruin my life!" Ciara Hilvano is an innocent and martyr wife who always gets violated by her husband and makes her feel that she's an unwanted wife. This guy really doesn't have any idea that the girl he was hurting and almost killed everyday was secretly suffering from the cancer in heart. The time came when Ciara's life was in big trouble. She almost died because someone tried to end her life. What if Ciara can no longer cope with the challenges and trials in her life? What if she just let her own death fetch her? Will Tyron regret all the things he did to Ciara? What if she dies? Will he cry?

Clara Black, a wealthy heiress from Glenford, openly declares that she only dates men for a month at a time and never gets emotionally involved. Men eager to climb the social ladder line up across the city, hoping for a chance. After all, when she is in a good mood, she rewards them with a villa. When she isn't, she still gives them millions of dollars when the relationship ends. People in Glenford laugh at me, calling me the most humiliated live-in husband they've ever seen. They're convinced that I'll endure it for the rest of my life. That is until Clara brings home a college student named Leonard Frost. Leonard looks ordinary, yet he becomes the first man to break her one-month dating rule. Clara then gives me two options. One option is to accept an open marriage and let Leonard have equal footing with me. The other is divorce, with half of her assets given to me and a clean break afterward. Her close friends watch from the sidelines, certain that I'll keep enduring everything for the sake of money. Yet I choose the second option without hesitation. In my previous life, I chose to endure, only to have Leonard take advantage of me even more. He forbade Clara from touching me and refused to let her bear my child. In my old age, I could only look on with envy as Leonard enjoyed a household full of descendants. Even after Clara passed away, she didn't mention me in her will at all. Every part of her estate fell into Leonard's control. I kept the title of Clara's husband, yet I lived my entire life completely alone. Now that I have been reborn, everything is clear to me. I will take the money and walk away, severing all ties with her for good.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.