Wound Tight

He joined them like the others to destroy me. When he was good, he made me believe we could weather the storm. When he turned bad he made me believe he was the storm. “Good luck to your present Luna and if you haven’t good luck when you find her. I never loved you more than a friend, and today I’ll repeat I don’t love you, never did and never will not in a million years. What happened between us was in the past which was never meant to blossom. Let me go, I don't belong here, not in this pack and never will….” Before the words could successfully leave my lips a deafening sound rocked the cell and a large open dent came on the wall. Tagon. He took long hoarse breaths, his tight fist stuck in the wall. His eyes darkened with angry growls. What kind of a man has he turned to? It felt so hard not to think of the past. It was so hard not to think about how things were. The good days. He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I was foolish back then to think those affections were real. I was stupid to think my tainted blood could be made pure by garnering his favor and his affections. There were only two events he ever got mad: the first time we met where he met me crying and the second was when I told him… nevermind. He clicked his tongue sharply, “As long as you live you would forever be under my dominance. I own you. Your life, your blood and even your soul to do whatsoever my soul pleases. You are my slave and that’s your lot!”

"What if I choose not to go?” His phone rang. “Like I said, it is going to cost you dearly. Do not test me.” Emily was sold to Cedric in exchange for freedom. Waking up to this nightmare after the plane crash, she wished for death. Cedric Monette being a renowned CEO, wants nothing with her but she was the key to his wealth. He kept her on a tight leash until she began getting close to Elliott Budd. He was irrelevant until Emily began weaving her life around him. After unfortunate events, Cedric chased her to the ends of the earth until she was his alone even when her heart belonged to another.

Sapphire’s greatest regret came from fucking a stranger she met, a stranger that went on to ruin her life.. But how could she hate him when he gave her three beautiful babies? Her babies must survive so she ran, hiding them from their father with everything she had. Damnation looms for the conqueror alpha king and he must chase after his runaway mate. Unaware of his three babies, he fights to claim her heart. She wlll not make it easy for him. She would bear a hundred whippings rather than be wed to that shameless old wolf that dared to covet someone younger than all of his daughters! She saw red and imagining his face, she threw the nearly empty bottle. The stranger moved so fast he grabbed it in his fist. She drooled at the sight of the most handsome, broad-shouldered stranger she ever saw in her life! When he changed direction,, she found herself rising to meet him. “I’ve never had a woman stone my face in our first meeting before.” . Even his voice was incredibly sexy. She giggled, staggering and he caught her. Their proximity thrilled her and when she stared up at him, she could swear his eyes were alive with lust as he stared at her lips. “I do other things other than stone faces. Want to go upstairs and find out?” She hit a sultry pose but suddenly staggered drunkenly. “You are drunk.” “Very. My clumsy fingers will need help getting out of this tight top. You’ll lend a hand won’t you?” She batted her lashes at him, surprised at her own provocativeness. . He smirked and pulled her in. “As you wish, my lady.” Even before they could get to the room, his taste was in her mouth and...

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

18+. She was sweet, sensual… and suddenly insatiable. Cassandra was the sweet, sexy fiancée every man dreams of—tight gymnast’s body, angelic smile, and a shy streak in bed that made her even more irresistible. But when a sleazy janitor at my office starts eye-f**king her in front of me, something changes. She saw it. I saw it. And instead of getting mad… she got curious. One teasing picture turns into a filthy game. Flannel shirts, gym selfies, deep squats, towel slips—each photo hotter than the last. My once-modest bride-to-be starts showing off for me... maybe even for him. Now, Cassandra’s exploring her dirty side—and I’m watching the love of my life transform into the hottest, most addictive little exhibitionist I never knew I needed. She used to save her body for me. Now, she’s learning how much she loves being seen. Enjoy..

Anita," her angelic voice calls to me. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Her soft, delicate hands caressing my face, sparkling green eyes grounding me from the dark past I wish I could forget. "You're safe, it's okay." I bring my hand up, running my finger over the mound of scar tissue. The constant reminder of that night. The raised bump covers the bullet fragment embedded in my sternum. She takes my hands as more thunder rumbles and tears roll down my cheeks. "Breathe Anita," she says in a soothing whisper. My lungs were burning with the need for air and it was then that I realized I'd been holding it. I take in a gasping breath and recall the first time my eyes met her green eyes. My sister had been lifted off me and my eyes opening had startled her. The first time she touched me gave me strength to hold on. I held her hand tight, trying to tell her what happened, but couldn't get enough breath to form words. Sitting in the present going through the same as I had five years ago. "They were all found, Anita. They can't hurt you anymore. It's just a storm. All the doors and windows are locked, the alarm is set. It's just you and me." "Will you keep the light on tonight, please?"

"I know, Dad, but Omegas like us have a hard time in this society and I heard the college is built up of ranks, and only wolves with rich parents are allowed to attend it. Lovely is just lucky to get a scholarship there now that they are trying to accept ordinary students. They despise low-class wolves like us, and I can't stand their judgment and prejudice," Daniel clenched his fists into tight balls, anger apparent in his voice. "Enough with the negativity. They are just werewolves like us and think they will like my little girl," Mom commented and continued eating her vegetables. "Daniel is right, even if you don’t want to admit it. They may be werewolves like us, but they treat us Omegas as inferior. They don't see us as equals because of our rank. It's infuriating," my dad commented, his dark eyes burning with fury. "With all the things I have heard about their treatment of Omegas, I don't think I will like them," I admitted, feeling a bit fuzzy. *** Amber Darlington, a young black omega, moves to a new pack with her family looking for a fresh start after being banished from their pack. But instead of finding acceptance among her new packmates, she finds discrimination, bullying, and oppression. She is particularly targeted by Mason, the Alpha’s son, who sees her as an outsider and authority figure. As Mason's prejudice threatens to tear the pack apart, Amber must decide whether to stand up for herself and her family or suffer in silence. Will Amber be able to break free of Mason's oppressive reign? Or will she remain a victim of systemic discrimination?

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

Hi lovely Readers, here's the author. Thank you for reading to the end of this book, and a new book is about to start. Enough spoilers, read on to know what happens. Don't forget to leave your comments. XoXo. "I need to come," I tell her. "Please... yes..." "Come with me..." I drop her to her back and lower myself back in position. My belly presses to hers, and her pretty little nipples feel so sweet against my chest. "I can't..." she whispers. "I'm so... fluttery..." "You can," I tell her. "I promise you, you can." I pause. "And you will. Again, Ashley. Come for me again." I rub, back and forth, my dick pinned between my stomach and her pussy, grinding hard, taking so much fucking care not to spear that tight little cunt and fill her up with my cum. "I'm gonna come all over your sweet little pussy, Ashley." "Yes..." she whispers. "Oh God, please... please, Mr. Mancini..." "Don't call me that," I growl, and I'm on the edge, right on the fucking edge. "What shall I call you?" she asks, and I hear it in her voice, I hear she's thinking it, too. It's in the little tremor, the sweet little hint of lust. My breath is erratic, my cock pulsing as my balls tighten, ready to fucking blow. And I say it. I just fucking say it. "Call me Daddy," I growl. "You can call me Daddy."