7527 Book(s) Related to The Shot Gun Wedding

The red carpet to Adrian Thorne's side was never paved with flowers. It was a killing floor, meticulously designed.
Two years. Nineteen wedding attempts. And every single one ended in blood.
The fifth attempt: brake failure on the bridal car. I spent three months in the ER with a shattered left arm.
The twelfth: botulism at the menu tasting. I had my stomach pumped and nearly asphyxiated on the table.
The eighteenth... that remains my waking nightmare. I fell down a marble staircase polished to a lethal shine, losing the child I never even got to hold.
Everyone called me the "Thorne Curse." For a long time, even I believed it—that bad luck was just etched into my bones.
Time and again, I crawled out of pools of my own blood. I did it for a decade-old promise of repayment. I did it for the man I had loved for ten years.
Then came the nineteenth attempt. A floral arch weighing hundreds of pounds collapsed during our vows, crushing me into the ICU.
Ribs snapped, organs bleeding, I fought for three days just to claw my way back to the living.
But the moment I woke, through the crack in the door, I heard Adrian’s voice.
"Mr. Thorne, that was too close. If Elinor had actually died..."
"I didn't have a choice." Adrian’s tone was so cold it felt foreign. "Her father died saving me. I’m shackled by that debt. But I love Serena. She is the only one I want to marry."
His voice dropped, lethal and precise. "To clear the path for Serena, I don’t care if I have to stage nineteen accidents or ruin Elinor beyond repair. I will do whatever it takes."
Lying there, staring at the map of scars on my body, something inside me finally shattered.
I realized my suffering wasn't a twisted joke of fate. It was a love letter to another woman—his devotion to her, carved into my very skin.
Since his "debt of honor" kept him from kicking me out, I decided to play the villain and cut the cord myself.

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

At Holy Oak High, being the Top Flyer isn't just a crown.
It’s a ticket to the upper class.
Girls would pay any price to stand at the top of that pyramid.
But I didn't understand that the spotlight hid a man-eating abyss until I had to put on that blood-stained uniform.
Listen. Do you hear that scratching sound coming from inside the locker?

In my past life, I gave away all my resources to protect them, only to have my girlfriend and best friend lock the security door themselves, leaving me to be devoured alive by zombies in despair.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back three days before the apocalypse.
I maxed out my credit cards, frantically stockpiled hundreds of tons of supplies, and built an indestructible steel fortress! When the bloody apocalypse arrived as scheduled, those traitors were frantically torn apart by monsters outside the door, crying and banging on the door for help.
I sat in front of the monitor, took a sip of hot coffee, and calmly pulled down the last steel gate.
"In this life, you don't even deserve to be dogs."

The military called me a legend. My wife called me a loser.

To honor a top-secret federal NDA, I buried my past and became a warehouse janitor at my wife's security firm.

I built her a multi-billion-dollar business empire from scratch, asking for nothing in return but the medical bills for my dying daughter.

Yet, just to marry another man, she stole my life's work as her own.

She went so far as to freeze my daughter’s healthcare account, throwing my dying little girl out into the freezing rain to force me out with nothing.

They thought they had stepped me into the dirt.

They have no idea that my NDA expires tonight.

I signed the divorce papers, walked out of the hospital with my girl in my arms, and dialed back into a locked military channel to issue one quiet command:

[SYSTEM RECOVERY: MASTER AUTHORIZATION REVOKED.]

Touch my daughter? Steal my work?

The reckoning has begun, and not a single one of you will survive the fallout.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

“Beg properly,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy,” I cried, voice breaking. “Please fuck your little brat’s tight pussy. I’ve been so bad—punish me with your cock. Stretch me open and fill me up. I’ll be good, I promise—just please fuck me hard.”

At home, where secret desires burn hot, WET FOR DADDY brings you a hot collection of forbidden stories. Young stepdaughters grow up under the strong gaze of their powerful stepdaddies. Soon, care turns into raw hunger and wild need.

From the busy boss who takes his naughty stepdaughter on his big desk, to the tough rancher who shows his curious girl how to ride more than horses — these tales dive deep into naughty, throbbing lust.

Every soft “good girl,” every firm hand, and every secret night touch leads to explosive pleasure that breaks all the rules.

Steamy, bold, and deliciously wrong, this book gives you pure taboo fun that will leave you wet, breathless, and wanting more. Give in to your darkest stepdaddy dreams — no shame, just hot, dripping fantasy.

This book contains very RAW and strong mature contents. Read with caution.

Do you like reading erotic slow burn romance stories?

Are you into thigh tingling forbidden stories?

Do you like reading submissive, dominating erotic stories?

Are you Into straight romance, werewolf erotic romance, taboo romance?
If Yes!

Red Hot Tales is the right book for you.

This book is a compilation of steamy erotic romance stories capable of bringing you to a whole new world of erotic fantasy you never knew existed. With Thigh tingling stories, captivating storyline leaving you wanting more.

"Rip my ass apart, Daddy! Fuck the shit out of me! God, yes!"

"So fucking tight, Jenny. No matter how many times I fuck your ass, it's always like the first time... Are you being good for daddy? Keeping other dicks out of this perfect ass?"

"Yes, Daddy. Only yours," she moaned...



Plunge into a filthy SERIES of taboo erotica collections where daddies (step daddies, daddies-in-law, and other forbidden fruit) crave and claim their teasing little girls in raw, boundary shattering steamy shorts.

Loaded with intense dirty talk, dubious consent edges, high risk exposure thrills, possessive breeding kinks, degradation and humiliation, and scorching incest.

Please take care of your mental health. It gets dark and twisted in here...

Indulge dark fantasies with twist endings that will stay with you.

She begs for daddy's brutal cock. He can't stop stretching his filthy little girl.

***All characters are over 18. Explicit content ahead. 18+ only. Reader discretion is advised.

THIS BOOK CONTAINS NUMEROUS SHORT EROTICA AND FORBIDDEN STORIES AND IT'S NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG READERS.

“This..this is so wrong..” Octavia’s words turned into a song of moans, as she arched her back, her mouth wide open covered in drool and her eyes rolling continuously.

“Does Bernie fuck you the way I do?” A deep baritone voice asked followed by the slapping of skins.

“No..no.” Octavia stuttered, pleasure rushing through every part of her body.

“Does he give you as many orgasms as you want?” Came the baritone deep voice again which made her stomach flipped.

“No, Romania. Only you do.”

……..

Octavia thought she has acquired everything she wanted. A loving boyfriend, a stable job, lovely friends and so on, but her sex life was nothing to write home about.

Her boyfriend made her feel loved, but when it comes to orgasms, he always made her frustrated.

Things changed when Octavia boyfriend’s older brother, Romania, came in.

He gave her as many orgasms as she wanted and when he speaks, her core throbs.

But Octavia is thrusted in a situation where she was forced to chose between her love life or her sex life.

THE BOOK CONTAINS SHORT FORBIDDEN EROTICA STORIES.

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

"...I gave your wedding dress to Elise." Julian said.
"What...Did you say?" I asked, just to be sure I didn't hear wrong.
"Elise," he said again, "I gave her the dress."
"And why would you even do that?" I snapped in anger.
"We've been talking, okay?" He rubbed his temples, trying to explain "She told me she wants her last wish to be getting married before she passes to me. So...I thought this, as the right thing to do."
The words exploded out of me like a volcano.
"How could you do something like this without asking me first? That's my dress, Julian! For our wedding, that's in two days!"


For many years I gave up my dreams and my youth to bring Julian back from the edge of death. We were legally bound in a secret ceremony, waiting for the day he could finally stand beside me at the altar.
But on the day of our wedding, the dress I made for myself was on my stepsister, and the man I called my husband was leading her to the priest.
With nothing left but a broken heart, I made a deal with the one man Julian feared, Sebastian Hale.
He is cold, dangerous, and the most powerful billionaire in the city. He offers me protection, wealth, and revenge, but in his world nothing is free.

This was the thirteenth time I'd tried to earn their love—and my last.
For months, I'd worked myself to exhaustion, five months pregnant, hand-sewing thousands of pearls onto what I'd hoped would become the dress of my dreams.
But moments before the ceremony, my fiancé and his family burst into the bridal suite and tore it off me. They gave it to her—the girl they'd raised, the one they'd always loved more.
They stole my wedding. They stole my groom. And when I collapsed, bleeding, they made sure the ambulance took her instead—all because she'd fainted from the drama.
Watching those sirens fade, I finally understood: I was never the daughter they wanted to save.

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT🔞

Lost in Lust is a collection of steamy stories that dive into passion, temptation, and raw s*x scenes.

Each story unfolds with sexual encounters and irresistible attraction, where sexual fantasies ignite and lovers surrender. Lost in Lust will leave you breathless and sexually aroused.


And then he pushed his cck inside her once more. He had a hold of her hips and he kept her in place as he went back to fuking her hard.

She felt her breasts swinging backward and forward once more as he thrust at her pusy.
She could feel a slight ache, a throbbing, in her pusy.

“Oh Fuck me Peter fck me! Fill me with your cm!!
That di*k feels soo freaking good!”

BLURB:18+ Explicit Content Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Content Warnings:This collection contains graphic s****l content, dubcon, age-gap, taboo relationships, religious roleplay, rough scenes, morally gray characters, and explicit adult language. If you're sensitive to dark, controversial, or boundary-pushing themes, this is not the book for you.Some cravings are whispered in secret.
Others are too twisted, too forbidden, to ever say out loud.Until now.Sinful Fantasies is a collection of sinful, unapologetic erotic tales where the rules don't apply and the boundaries are meant to be broken.
Step into a world where the lines between right and wrong blur in the heat of passion.
From priests who can't stay celibate to stepdads who can't say no, each story is a slow fall into deliciously dark temptation. They're off-limits, They're wrong, And they're exactly what you've been aching for. Indulge the fantasies you’re not supposed to have.


"You like that, don't you?" he said, his voice low and rough. His lips hovered right at my neck.
"Kiss me, Cole," I begged, my head sinking back into the seat. "I…"
He leaned in just a little, his lips close enough for me to taste his breath, but then he stopped.
"Not now, Mia," he said with that smug voice.
His hand trailed lower, gliding over my belly, fingers slipping under the waistband of my trousers. He didn't even hesitate—his fingers dipped lower, brushing over the wetness soaking through my panties.
"Damn," he groaned in my ear. "You're fucking soaked."

Through Realms of Sins is a collection of taboo and steamy stories where passion knows no boundaries.
In different worlds and timelines, an Omega woman becomes the obsession of powerful Alphas: CEOs, kings, mafia bosses, and supernatural beings.
Every story would whisk you away into a world of dark romance and irresistible desire, where the lines between love and lust fade away.
The Alphas are cruel, but the Omega is no helpless prize, challenging their control and unleashing parts of them that didn't even know they existed.This is an R18 Omegaverse anthology filled with tension, power play, and fiery passion.
Each story is hotter than the last, each loves a battlefield of strong desires. Enticing you through Realms of Sins which will leave you breathless for more.
CAUTION! EROTIC. DARK ROMANCE. MULTIPLE STEAMY STORIES, R18, RAW. INTENSE.

A torrential downpour of strong acid flooded the city, and mutated sea monsters slaughtered buildings. When Chloe, along with burly men from the rugby team, wielding fire axes, frantically smashed down the door, attempting to burn me alive and steal my bottled water, I had already welded the security door firmly into the load-bearing wall.
Faced with the pried-open door, I didn't waste any words and directly used a 20,000-volt electric spear to pierce the strong man's thigh! Then, I coldly pushed the blood-soaked floor outside.
The pungent smell of blood instantly attracted the skeletal behemoths from the water, turning the corridor into a horrific slaughterhouse. I listened coldly to their desperate screams in front of the monitor.
In this desolate wasteland, you think you can survive by stepping on me? Then feed the monsters with your flesh and blood !

My name is Arthur, Atlantic City’s number one pauper and absolute peerless coward.
On the outside, I roar with sheer arrogance: "The debt collector has returned from Hell!"
On the inside, I’m sobbing hysterically: "Mommy, save me! I really don‘t want to act tough!"
My name is Arthur, a complete coward whose hands shake even when trying to kill a chicken.
That was, until I was bound to a completely unhinged [Absolute Bully System].
[Ding! Novice Bully Quest: Crash the Mafia banquet and splash red wine on the face of the corporate heiress!]
[Ding! Advanced Quest: Steal the Underground Godfather's wife!]
[Ding! Ultimate Quest: Walk right up to the Underground Godfather and slap him mercilessly across the face!]
"Screw you! I don't even have the guts to kill a chicken, and you want me to beat up the Emperor of the Underworld? No way! I'd rather starve to death than dig my own grave!"
[Ding! Host's refusal detected. Punishment impending: Serial sphincter rupture resulting in explosive public diarrhea, accompanied by penile retraction into the abdomen, and the reverse fracturing of all 206 bones. It will take seven days and seven nights for you to finally die! Countdown: 3 seconds.]
"... System Daddy, I was wrong."
To avoid dying of explosive diarrhea, I had no choice but to let the System control my body, kick the doors open, heft a Gatling gun, and laugh maniacally: "So you're supposed to be the Underground Emperor?!"
But deep down in my heart, I was wailing uncontrollably: "Mommy, save me! I really don't want to act tough anymore!"

"I look better in the wedding dress. Your ugly fiancée can't compare to me, right?" "Of course, you do. You look way better."
Standing right outside the bridal fitting room, I watched my fiancé, Alexander Blackwell, hold his mistress in his arms.
The very wedding dress the woman wore was the custom-made designer gown meant for my own wedding next month.
For seven long years, I gave up my youth and poured everything into Alexander, turning him from a nobody into a tech billionaire.
He always thought I was just a helpless orphan who had nowhere else to go, blindly confident that I would never dare to leave him.
He had no idea that I was actually one of the heirs to the top-tier Sterling family in London.
When he finally realized what he had lost and desperately tried to beg for my return, I didn't look back.
Because I ran into Theodore Morrow—the city's most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO, and the childhood fiancé whose heart I had broken when I called off our engagement years ago.

She begged her mother for $50,000 to save her daughter's life.
Her mother had it—but chose to spend $300,000 on her younger sister's wedding instead.
That was the day Evelyn walked out. No more pleading. No more coming back.
Her husband sold his father's last heirloom. Their neighbors emptied their wallets. They saved her daughter and left for a new life.
A year later, her mother's money was gone. The fraud was exposed. The mansion was seized. The calls started coming—calls begging for help, for money, for forgiveness.
Evelyn listened, then hung up.
She is not going back. Not for guilt, not for blood. The family that let her daughter die does not get to ask her for anything.

Halfway through my wedding, just as I was about to vow eternal love to my childhood sweetheart, Alpha Derick, the doors swung open, and his beta—Rebecca Guzman—strode in.
Pregnant.
The hall fell silent, the weight of her presence pressing down on everyone.
Derick, my fated mate—the boy I had cherished since we were kids—barely reacted. Instead, he stepped toward her, steadying her with a tenderness that should have been reserved for me. It was as if she were the one in the white dress, as if this were her moment.
Then, without the slightest hint of remorse, he declared, “I know I can’t formally marry Beta Rebecca, but I promised her a wedding. Our pup deserves a whole family.”
His next words were like ice in my veins. “From this day forward, she will also be my Luna. You must treat the pup in her belly as if it were your own.”
A shiver ran through me, sharp and unforgiving.

"You took my wedding dress for my stepsister?"
My voice was ice as I stared at the man I had loved for six years—the man I had saved with my own blood, drop by drop, through years of his illness.
Atlas Brooks couldn't meet my eyes.
"She's dying, Mandy. Susie's last wish is to marry me."
Six years of devotion. Endless blood donations. And this is what I get in return?
The man I saved wants to trade me for the sister who destroyed my family.
Let him. I'm done fighting for someone who never fought for me.
But when I tried to walk away, Atlas caught my wrist.
"After she's gone," he whispered, "we can still be together. Just... let her have this."
The dress. The wedding. The man. Let her have everything.
I'm not waiting around as anyone's second choice. Not anymore.
I'm ready to say goodbye to everything.
I thought I was leaving love behind forever.
I didn't know that at my stolen wedding, I was about to find it.

She wasn’t his weakness. She was his ruin, and he would bring the world to its knees before he let her go.


Kisarel thought she had it all figured out, until the night she caught her fiancé in bed with her cousin.
The same cousin who was engaged to her boss, the ruthless and untouchable billionaire, Mr. Oceans Stark.
Heartbroken, humiliated, and trapped on a business trip with the man her cousin was set to marry, Kisarel did the unthinkable – she begged her boss to make her forget her boyfriend's betrayal.
Oceans swore he didn’t touch his employees.
He swore his heart only belonged to a certain strange woman he'd been looking for, who saved his life so many years ago.
But the moment Kisarel kissed him, every resolution he made shattered.
And after their one sinful night together, Mr. Stark couldn't let Kisarel go. He began to do everything within his power to get her even more entangled in his web of obsession.
There were a thousand reasons she should have stayed away from him. She ignored every single one.
He knew every part of her belonged to someone else. But every part of him didn’t care.
What neither of them knows is that Kisarel was the woman he’s been searching for all along.
Now, Oceans is set to call off his wedding with Kisarel's cousin, and he expects Kisarel to also call off her wedding with her cheating fiancé.
Kisarel is now tangled in an obsession so hot that it might consume her whole. And Oceans is ready to drown his entire empire just to keep the woman he truly loves.

In this apocalyptic world of extreme heat, I fight for water in the underground black market, and I risk my life to hoard supplies.
My internet-famous roommate enjoyed my efforts while hiding in the air-conditioned room, panting softly in front of three fill lights: "We need to slow down and reconcile with nature."
Later, she stole my supplies and sold them to drug lords, causing me to be roasted alive on the riverbed.
After being reborn, I turned and left.
"Don't you like a slow-paced life? Stay here and enjoy it."
The end times have only just begun.

"And what game are you to play?"

The masked Cannibal stepped forward. We were ten girls - all stark naked, different shapes and different skin colours. He walked before us, stopping to watch each of our faces and the sizes of our breasts.

Finally, he selected a girl with breasts the size of watermelons.

She squirmed under his grip.

"Go down on your knees!" He yelled at her.

Her eyes bulged, and she was hit across the face.

"If you're slow, you'll die faster like ants!" The man yelled.

The redhaired girl beside me was already sobbing softly. I glanced around. Most of us brought in here must have been forced here against our will, sold maybe by a loved one or worst kidnapped while being lost.

Some were humans like me, and others - werewolves, a threat to the Cannibals. And if you were identified as one, a brace heavy and thick was shackled and wounded around your neck.

I was only human. Luckily, I still had my pendant necklace around my neck given to me by my uncle.

"On your knees!" He forced her to her knees.

She did so quickly, her air intake was in shaky breaths.

The masked man peeled up his skirt and yanked out his monstrous dick.

It was long, stiff and dark. It was probably unwashed for days, and around it was hairs like grass.

I winced my face. No way was I taking that in my mouth.

Luckily, I wasn't the girl kneeling in front of the Cannibal.

"Now suck," he told her.

She took his cock and buried it inside of her mouth.

Was this the game we were playing, sucking dicks?



This story contains different erotic stories. It cuts across domineering male leads, submissive and defiant characters.

I know I shouldn't want my sister's ex, but...
"Do you really want me gone?" Caleb asked.
"No...yes," I stuttered.
Every voice in my head screamed for me to step back but my body betrayed me. It betrayed me even further when Caleb suddenly curled his hand around my waist. He pulled me in, giving me no chance to prepare for his mouth crashing down on mine.
I didn't bother fighting it because I knew it was useless. I threw my arms around his neck, pressing further into him and I felt a familiar throbbing in the pit of my belly.
Without warning, he grabbed my hips and I felt myself being lifted in the air. Moments later, my back was touching the chair and Caleb was hovering above me.
"Take it off," he said in a hoarse voice.
I had it off and Caleb immediately attacked my breasts.
"Oh, my God," I whispered earnestly.
Caleb was merciless as he sucked both my nipples, leaving me squirming underneath him.
I barely had time to prepare myself as his hand slipped into my wetness. He put one finger in, then another followed before I could even adjust to the first one.
Just as I felt pressure building inside my stomach, he suddenly pulled his fingers out of me. Grabbing my hips, he lifted my butt from the couch and yanked my shorts off. He stared right into my eyes as he guided himself to my entrance.
"Caleb…" I groaned.
"Stay still," he commanded.
"Oh, fuckk," I breathed.
"You like that, uh?" He growled.
I felt filthy as I grappled with the fact that my sister's toxic ex was actually fucking me on our couch. And my sister was asleep a few meters away.


Dirty Desires is an anthology of unvarnished, erotic stories in which temptation rules, control is challenged, and rules are broken. From forbidden lovers to impossible attractions, from hidden lusts to dangerous indulgences, every story pushes the boundaries. They are mischievous, they're mistaken, they are everything you have been longing to experience.

After eight years in the military, Frank Moore returned to New York.

He had intended to attend his comrade's sister's wedding, only to witness her being utterly humiliated by mafia thugs, forced to drink their foot-washing water.

Enraged, Frank crippled the young thug's legs, condemning him to a wheelchair for life.

Faced with assassins from both the underworld and above, Frank made a phone call.

Hundreds of elite mercenaries descended from the sky, and the entire New York mafia fell to their knees in terror.

The tide in New York was about to turn!

Temptation has a way of slipping past every boundary and challenging even the strongest resolve. What appears controlled, familiar, and respectable on the surface often hides emotions that are far more complicated beneath. Hearts are drawn toward connections they know they should resist. Unexpected. Irresistible. Forbidden.
Inside this collection, you will find stories like these:
A lonely wife finding comfort in the one man she was never meant to fall for... her bodyguard.
A woman torn between loyalty and unexpected feelings for her husband's quiet, brooding brother.
A young employee caught in a life-changing connection with her powerful CEO.
A student navigating an undeniable attraction to a professor twice her age.
And many more stories where boundaries are tested and forbidden feelings refuse to fade.
Every story explores love, temptation, and impossible choices.
Emotional. Addictive. Impossible to forget.
Several forbidden romances.
One unforgettable collection.
Will you dare to turn the page?

My fiancé and I held twenty-one weddings. I put on my wedding dress twenty-one times, only to crawl out of pools of blood each time.

Car accidents. Shootings. Explosions. Fires.

Everyone said I was cursed, that I was bad luck for my husband.

I was the only fool who believed they were accidents.

Until the twenty-second time.

That day, covered in blood, I escaped from an ambush back to headquarters and heard him say coldly over the walkie-talkie, "She won't die. Save Valerie first."

It turned out all the accidents were personally arranged by him.

He didn't love me—he just owed my parents a debt he could never repay.

So he staged disaster after disaster to get out of marrying me.

At the twenty-second wedding, I didn't wait for him to cancel.

This time, I was the one who called it off.

Under the shackles of a Mafia Family, there are two or more people who open their hearts to receive it. This is love amidst thorns, guns, and shackles, this is bloodshed, this is violence, and this is war!! A cold-hearted Mafia Boss and his hot-headed psycho captive. They say as poles repel, but what if that stipulation was wrong?

A fearless female reporter is determined to expose the criminal activities of one of the most dominant Mafia families in Italy, even at the cost of her own life. Things get even more complicated when a super cop determined to put an end to the Mafia family gets involved in their bittersweet love story, creating a love triangle that leads to deaths and regrets, tears and tragedy, wins and losses… a battle for Supremacy, Power and Dominance!! Find out!!

I work for the government. My job was simple on paper: steal a key-chip from the man behind an organ-trafficking network.

The problem was access. He never moved without bodyguards, and any new face got screened out fast. The only opening was his son’s wedding—the one day he’d show up in public.

But I couldn’t hide what I am. Professional habits give you away. So I did the only thing that would make me invisible: I put myself under deep hypnosis, locked every memory, forged a new identity, and spent six months inside the estate as a disposable security guard.

For half a year, I hauled crates, swallowed insults, and scrubbed floors on my knees. Everyone thought I was easy to break.

On the wedding day, the groom came looking for trouble. He slapped me, forced me down, and my nose bled all over my uniform. I could barely breathe.

Then the wedding march started.

That was my trigger. The moment the music hit, everything came back—my name, my mission, and what I came to take.

They thought I was a dog they could kick. Nobody knew that the bloodied guard on the grass had just remembered everything.

Next, the wedding became my field.

When the apocalypse broke out, I risked my life to save the woman I loved, and spent three years wandering around just to help her find her white moonlight.
Just when I thought she was finally moved, she stabbed me to death on our wedding night!
Reborn back to the first day of the apocalypse, I coldly watched her kneel down and beg for mercy.
You want me to be your lapdog? Dream on!
In this life, I will make her taste the bitterness of despair, and make her kneel down and beg for my forgiveness!
Forget about white moonlight and true love, they all have to kneel down before me!

Ethan and I grew up together. We were supposed to exchange rings at the altar, make our vows. But on our wedding day, he left me standing there to go save his so-called suicidal ex. Almost killed my parents from the shame.

Four years later, I'm back in Portland with my husband. The city isn't that big, and of course fate decides to throw him in my path again.

He has the nerve to ask me to be his mistress.

I hold up my left hand, the ring catching the light. "Are you blind?"

The day I received my medical report and found out I was pregnant, my husband—Alpha Godfrey Hansen—held a small wedding ceremony in the hospital garden with his first love and former mate, Gillian Boyd.
He explained, “Her final wish in this life was to be my bride.”
But what about me?
What was I to him? A replacement?
It finally hit me—ten years of unwavering devotion and sacrifice meant nothing compared to a single tear shed by his first love.

Before the wedding, my fiancé, Alpha Kendrick, stood in front of me. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but so did hope.
“Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
A month. Time to see if he could patch things up with Elena Manwaring—his ex-girlfriend. His fated mate.
“If it works out,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was convincing himself as much as me, “then it’s the Moon Goddess’s blessing. But if it doesn’t… I’ll come back. I’ll marry you. And I’ll leave her behind—forever.”
He meant it. He truly believed this was the honorable thing to do.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I let a small, knowing smile tug at my lips.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?”
Relief broke over his face like a wave, as though I’d just untangled him from a chain he hadn’t known how to break. That night, he drove off, lighter than I’d seen him in months.
Meanwhile, I packed my bags in silence.

WARNING!! MATURED CONTENT!!

The heart craves for whatever it wants, Good or bad—

Tiffany had a long time secret Crush on her uncle, who looked more manly and handsome than all the guys she met.

She vows to make him her man, hook or crook. Opportunity presents itself, as her parents suddenly had an urgent business outside the country, and had to travel, leaving her in her uncle's house, for a month.

Things get intense, as her uncle turns out to enjoy her advances towards him, but can't let things go further, because of their relationship.

Will Tiffany be able to finally conquer him or will their relationship be a barrier??

And other Erotica collections.

⚠️ WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content. If you are under 18 or uncomfortable with steamy, erotic, forbidden, or taboo themes, kindly exit now.

"I'm sorry, but I now have a girlfriend", Eric said.

" Just fuck me tonight Eric, please ", " Just tonight ". I cried.

Lola, a college professor, just got dumped by her no-strings-attached sex buddy, Eric. She's pissed, frustrated, and painfully horny.

Back in her office, she flips lazily through student assignments, the task was simple: Write a short romance story of your choice.

But one freshman, Noah, took it way too far. Instead of a harmless love story, he wrote out his filthy, unfiltered fantasy. About her. His professor.

Dive into Noah’s bold approach, Professor Lola’s burning curiosity, and a collection of sizzling short erotica that push every boundary.


This book contains a collection of different short erotic stories.

"Let Aria have the Stanford recommendation. Quinn owes her."
I stared at the family group chat—the one I wasn't in—and let out a cold laugh.
In my past life, I went completely hysterical over this, only to earn my family's disgust and a miserable death.
Now, reborn and given a second chance, I looked at the room full of guests celebrating My success, and walked straight to the microphone.
"Everyone, the party is over. I'm turning down the Stanford spot."
Under my family's stunned gazes, I dumped my champagne into the trash bin.
This rotten family? I'm done with them.

Love lost, love chased, and love reborn—this collection of werewolf short stories weaves together tales of passion, heartbreak, and redemption.

From powerful Alphas who regret letting their fated mates slip away to strong-willed heroines who rise above betrayal, each story explores the raw emotions of second chances and self-discovery. Some wolves fight to reclaim what they've lost, while others learn that true strength lies in walking away.

As the moon guides them through pain and healing, they must decide: cling to the past or embrace the future?

In "Fated Mates Torn by Hate", experience stories of chasing love, finding self-worth, and letting go of old wounds to step into the light of a new dawn.

Harper spent ten years as Joel's perfect girlfriend... until he dumped her to boost his brand. Now Joel's getting married, and Harper's crashing his wedding on the arm of Crew Lawson, the one player Joel hates most. It's supposed to be fake: three months of PR revenge. But Crew's hiding a dangerous addiction, Harper's hiding real feelings, and Joel's hiding the truth about why he really left. Some fake relationships burn too hot to stay pretending.

I chose to retire at my peak for Alexander.
But twenty minutes before our wedding started, he decided to help his childhood sweetheart move, leaving me alone at the venue.
He said, "Sophia, you're strong enough; you don't need anyone to protect you."
So I tossed my veil aside and called off the wedding.
Alexander thought I'd come crawling back, even threatened to blacklist me.
But he didn't know that as I was leaving the wedding, my former coach suddenly called out to me, asking if I wanted to chase that championship again.

In our third year of surviving the wasteland, my companions and I finally realized it was all a reality show.

The elites and billionaires on the outside had built a massive dome, tossing us into this irradiated hellhole to be tortured. They broadcasted it globally, watching us drink toxic wastewater and eat mutated meat, treating us like monkeys in a zoo.

The mole in our team knelt in the mud, sobbing, begging me to understand that it was all a script—that as long as I played along, I could live.

Without a second thought, I swung my blade. Right in front of ten million VIP viewers, I chopped off his leg.

"Crappy script," I sneered, kicking aside the severed limbs and blood on the floor. Gripping my machete, I walked toward the real world beyond the heavy gates.

To those who used our lives for entertainment: I'm coming for yours.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.