Yuri Cutting Herself Novels & Stories

Mates! The one person created solely for you. The other part of you, the missing piece of your soul. They say that a mate is there to cherish and protect you. They say that nothing is stronger than the bond between mates. And they say that it’s always love at first sight… Well, let’s test that theory, shall we? Preview: Lesley’s POV His voice got deeper and more menacing with each word that left his lips. “But if you for just one second think you’re getting out of this by getting me to reject you---” He pushed me so hard against the wall, I’m sure my ribs broke! “You’re. DEAD. WRONG!!!” His enormous body was pressed against mine, trapping me between him and the wall. His hand gripped my throat – not cutting off my airways, but enough to let me know, that he was currently in control of my life. “You’re. MINE!” My heart dropped. His threatening growls were getting closer and closer until I could feel his breath on my skin. His wolf was in control. His alpha wolf… “And I’ll bend and break you before I’ll EVER let you leave! Do you understand?”

One night of passion with Carl Grey, her supposed uncle, led Renee Lacey down a path of eight years of misery. On the day she decided to end it all, holding her daughter's ashes, Carl was throwing a big party for his ex-girlfriend's son. Talk about adding insult to injury. But life had a surprise in store. Renee got a do-over, and this time, she's not pulling any punches. Carl's going to learn that karma's a real piece of work. Last time around, when Renee tried to explain things, Carl shut her down, accusing her of drugging him for a hookup. Well, not anymore. This time, she's cutting him loose in front of everyone. Remember when Carl's ex stole Renee's work and he called Renee a green-eyed monster? Now, Renee's going to leave them both in the dust and grab that award herself. And let's not forget how Carl always took his ex's side when Renee was blamed for stuff she didn't do. This time, Renee's giving as good as she gets. Poor Carl. He always thought Renee would stick around, no matter what. But when she finally walks out without so much as a "see ya," his world falls apart. Now look at Mr. High-and-Mighty, all teary-eyed and desperate: "Renee, don't go. Can't I come with you?"

At the family tea-tasting event, I openly admit that I am terrible at it. I also announce that I am cutting ties with the White family and giving up my inheritance rights. My father trembles with anger and points at me while furiously questioning, "Are you out of your mind?" My fiance, Liam Ford, holds the fake heiress, Laura White, in his arms. He snaps, "Juliana White, if you can't handle losing, then don't agree to compete in the first place. The way you are acting now is an embarrassment to my family and me!" Only I know that I am not crazy. In my previous life, at this very tea-tasting event that determined who got the right to the inheritance, they joined hands to drag me down in the most humiliating way. Laura beat me and uttered every tasting note I came up with first. Again and again, I try to prove myself, only to be refuted by her each time. She became the celebrated tea prodigy, while I turned into a laughingstock who made a fool of herself. In the end, I suffer a mental breakdown and run out of the house, only to be hit and killed by one of Laura's fans. No one bothered to claim and bury my corpse. When I open my eyes again, I am back at my first family tea-tasting event after being brought back to the White family.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

Five years into my marriage to the Don, Ives Moretti, he left me for dead during a shootout to get his mistress, Isabella, to safety. I woke up three days later in a private hospital room. No apology. Ives was cold. “You’re my wife. You knew the risks. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, he added, “Isabella’s different. She’s fragile. She needed me.” That was followed by three months of the silent treatment. Like always, he expected me to be the one to break, to come crawling back begging for forgiveness. Three months later, I handed the Irish deal to Isabella on a silver platter. The big one I’d spent half a year building myself. Ives thought it was a peace offering. He smiled, a rare, genuine thing these days. “I knew you’d come around. As a reward, we’ll go to Vegas. I know you’ve always wanted to go.” The next day, Isabella whined about being bored, and he broke his promise. He took her to Vegas instead. Told me it was “urgent family business.” This time, I didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Ives was pleased I was being so understanding. He had no idea I was already cutting all ties to the Moretti family. That he’d already signed the divorce papers. I was free.

During a project review meeting, the new Gen Z intern, Jake Wilson, suddenly acts up by cutting to the server's backend logs on the projector. With a sneer, he says, "Mr. Miller, there's been an ongoing traffic anomaly in the server for the past few months. After conducting a quick investigation, it appears that the operations director, Ms. Chapman, has been secretly using the server to run her website just to accept private gigs and make quick bucks on the side." After the boss, Martin Miller, listens to Jake's report, his expression becomes stormy. "Ms. Chapman's actions have greatly infringed on the company's interests! In fact, the risks of her leaking the company's core secrets are extremely high! I suggest that we call the police on her!" Jake continued. As I look at how hostile Jake and Martin are acting, all I feel is bitter disappointment. Back when the company has first started out, it doesn't have the funds to afford a high-specs server. I'm the one who has carried my million-dollar workstation to the company and constructed a server there. Heck, I'm the one who has been paying the power bills for the server the whole time. To think that this company will backstab me in the end… Fine. Since everyone treats me like an enemy, I might as well give them a taste of the consequences for offending me!

Seer Corvyn once foretold that House Ashveil would produce a daughter who could see the future. I hid the birthmark I was born with on my forehead, yet my younger sister painted a vivid mark on her forehead every single day. Then, a royal decree came, naming her the Crown Prince, Prince Caelen’s fiancée, and I married Prince Aldric, just like I had wanted. For the next five years, I used my ability to foresee the future to help Aldric rise to power. On the night he ascended the throne, I finally wiped away the layers of makeup and told him my secret. However, instead of relief, he flew into a rage. He carved the flesh from my forehead and had me executed. “Leanora, how dare you imitate Rosalind’s birthmark? If you hadn’t chosen me first, she would never have been forced to marry Caelen! She should have been my true queen! For five years, every moment I touched you has disgusted me. You shall die in her place.” When I opened my eyes again, Aldric burst in, cutting off Seer Corvyn mid-sentence. “How can a mark prove that Rosalind is the chosen one?” “I’m willing to use the blank royal decree Father once granted me to marry the Lord Chancellor’s illegitimate daughter, Rosalind Ashveil.”

“I’ve tried so much to hate you, to forget you… I couldn’t. I know it’s hard to tell, but I’m not doing well. And not because Ari isn’t here, with me. I’m not alright without you, Alex. Even if I know there’s no way back from this for us, I still feel the need to tell you what you denied me three years ago… There was no other man… I’m yours… only yours… Always have, always will be.” He was suddenly looming over her, his face dark with passion, mouth full and moist from the mayhem he had just been creating with his tongue. “You’re mine… All mine…” They’ve never stopped being married… Hailee Baroni loves her husband more than anything. But when Alessandro started accusing her of being a cheater, when he started thinking of Ariana, their daughter, as the result of an extramarital affair, Hailee decided it was time to leave him. They lived separate lives for three long years, cutting every direct communication. But when Ariana gets abducted, the silence between them is forcibly broken. One quick glance into her deep, sad, desperate eyes and Alex knows he is the only one who can secure the little girl’s safe return, even if it means he must go back to Hailee. After all, his 'piccola' still wears his ring.

"You're tight," his deep voice murmured in my ear as I felt his wet tongue on my neck. My legs quivered, the walls of my pussy clenching together. "Brace yourself, don't expect me to go easy. I will fuck you hard even if you're a virgin," he nibbled my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I bring you pain as well as pleasure," he warned before ramming into me. Rated 18+. Warning: This book contains explicit and mature content with no filters. All Shades of Passion is a collection of short stories cutting through all spheres of life, depicting our individual struggles to find ourselves. Who we are and what we want. Each story has a unique plot, individual struggle, and a meaningful closure. From a young virgin who is desperate for sex, to a girl who hopes for a Cinderella story but falls for the baddest boy in town. There's sizzling boy romance, lesbian forbidden love, and a female coach who is in love with her student. It is packed full of BDSM, forbidden love, harems, orgies, boy love (MM), girl fantasy (GG), and age gap romance. No judgment or prejudice. It's raw, it's real and it's dark. Five stories illustrating how attraction can ignite a flame of passion in all humans both great and small. Passion is pleasure, even though it may come in different colors.