376 Book(s) Related to forbidden game

Anna believes she is nothing more than a blood slave—until the night Prince East Anderson smells her blood.

Among dozens of fresh victims at a vampire banquet, East chooses only her. He pays an outrageous price, takes her to his estate, and then does the one thing no vampire should do: he refuses to drink. Even when her scent drives him to madness, even when his eyes turn crimson and his fangs hover over her throat, he holds back.

Anna doesn’t know whether to fear him or fear the reason behind his restraint.

Because East is not just any vampire. He is the prince who once gave Eunice her First Embrace, the key to vampire aristocracy, and a man surrounded by enemies who would kill to possess what he wants. Anna’s blood is becoming a secret too valuable to hide.

But if her blood can awaken monsters… what else can it awaken in East?

Warning: This is not your regular love story. This is a collection of explicitly sinful acts. Confession, forbidden deeds, Raw, vivid.

DON’T READ IN PUBLIC.

Unless… you enjoy the risk of being caught.

It isn’t just a book. It’s an experience that will make your body burn.

Every story in this book is fast, wild, and full of heat. Bold women take what they want. Dominant men fight their urges. Every touch, every look, every whispered word will make you crave more.

As you read, your heart will race. Your body will react before your mind can catch up. You’ll gasp, shiver, and ache for pleasure. Each story is written to make you move your hand as you read, to feel every word.

We have it all—MF, MM, FF, MFM, FFM, MMMF, and everything in between. Every fantasy you can imagine. Every kind of desire. Every risky mix of heat.

The thrill of being caught. The rush of secret wants. The pull of power and lust. It’s all here. You’ll imagine being there, feeling every touch, every kiss, every deep push.

No holding back. No rules. Just raw, hot desire. Your eyes read the words. Your hand follows your body’s needs. You’ll touch yourself, tremble, and feel the heat grow.

By the last page, you’ll be breathing fast, shaking, and wanting more. And the stories won’t leave your mind. They’ll stay with you, making you ache for the next word, the next touch, the next release.

This isn’t just reading. It’s indulgence. One hand holds the phone. The other? That’s up to you.

Are you ready to give in?

She was never meant to be touched. Until he did.

When Maritza de León—heiress to a billion-dollar empire—catches her fiancé cheating, her life implodes in a single scandalous night. But her revenge kiss with Cole Harrison, the ruthless lawyer her family despises, lights a fire neither of them can put out.

He wants payback. She wants freedom. But the closer they get, the more dangerous their desire becomes—because Cole’s secret could destroy everything she’s fighting to protect.

Power. Betrayal. Obsession.

In the glittering world of the De León dynasty, love is the most forbidden sin of all.

My wife never knew what I really did. She only knew I was gone most of the year and money hit our account every month.

The day she cheated, she rummaged through my drawer, found an eagle-shaped brooch, and gifted it to her lover like a flashy accessory. “It’s worthless,” she said. “Perfect with a suit.” I warned her again and again to bring it back. She called me annoying, powered off her phone, and blocked me everywhere.

She didn’t know I’m a cleaner—the kind who handles quiet jobs—and that brooch isn’t jewelry. It’s an organization badge, a mark that turns you into a target the moment it appears in public.

That night, the killers came. The ballroom was sealed. She trembled under a table while her lover shoved her out to take the bullets.

When a cold gun barrel pressed to her temple and someone asked, “Who does the brooch belong to?”

I was the last of the Holy Bloodline. To the Nocturne Clan, I wasn't a Princess—I was a walking incubator, a terrified blood slave bound by the lowest pact to breed their pureblood heirs.
"I promise you... the next child you bear, I will let you raise yourself," my husband,the Vampire Prince, whispered, holding our newborn son wrapped in his sister-in-law's blanket.
He used my body as a shield against silver blades to protect his sister-in-law.
For nine years, I endured the silver whips, the boiling sunlight, and the agony of watching my babies handed over to another woman.
But when I discovered my husband was the very monster who slaughtered my families, I shattered heart turns to ash.
So, I give him exactly what he deserves—a pile of scorched ashes in a dark prison cell.
By the time the Vampire Prince realizes he cannot live without his wife, I am already “dead”.

Six hundred years into our marriage, I found out my husband had a son.

I had ended my border patrol three days early, wanting to surprise Valerius.

Not far away, Valerius was channeling his exclusive magic, teaching a boy how to weave the darkness.

"Dad! I did it!" The boy looked up. His bright eyes were a near-perfect reflection of Valerius's.

My mind instantly went blank.

Dad?

A woman walked over.

She draped a small cloak over the boy's shoulders, her hand brushing against Valerius's chest with practiced familiarity. "Valeri, the wind is picking up. He'll catch a cold now that he's sweating."

Valerius naturally wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "My fault."

The image of them huddled together like a picture-perfect family was an ice-tipped needle driven straight into my eyes.

The sharp sting made my breath hitch in my throat.

The man who had sworn before the Senate to love me for all eternity—the man bound to me by a Soul Blood Pact—had already betrayed me!

A sudden, agonizing cramp seized my lower abdomen.

It was an old wound from six centuries ago.

When the Sunfire Curse nearly reduced Valerius to ashes, I had offered my high-born pure blood and my womb as a sacrifice to forcibly block the hex for him.

The price was permanent infertility, along with an excruciating backlash of pain I had to endure every single month.

Back then, Valerius had held me, his eyes red and tear-filled. "I don't want any children! I would rather lose my seat in the Senate than ever betray you!"

Yet the scene before me crushed those words into fine dust.

I stumbled backward, my chest feeling as though it had been ripped open by bare hands.

I was terrified I'd lose control and rush over to scream at him.

Worse yet, in the face of this cozy, happy family of three, I was afraid I'd look like a pathetic, unwanted outsider.

Suffocation gripped my throat. I turned and fled.

To end two years of a long-distance marriage with my husband, Sutton Brennan, I quit my job and moved halfway across the state to join his top-tier medical center.
But from the moment I clocked in on day one, a nightmare awaited me.
IV pain pumps violently popped open in my hands, medication cabinets rejected my fingerprints, coffee machines sprayed me with boiling water, microwaves exploded in public, and the employee lockers locked me out entirely.
My colleagues laughed at me, calling me a walking disaster. The head nurse publicly berated me for being incompetent. And my husband, the man I trusted most, simply smiled his gentle smile and said, "You're just tense. Give it a few more days."
In my past life, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and held on until the bitter end—and ultimately died inside this very hospital.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my first day of work.

In my past life, they drained my blood, kicked me off the rooftop, and said, "Waste doesn't deserve to live."

Reborn into the apocalypse, I opened my palm, and seven beams of primal energy pierced the sky. The woman who cried out "the best in the world" to me just ten minutes ago couldn't even produce a spark now. The brother who wore the boots I sewed and called me trash was being chased and bitten by mutants like a stray dog, his leg broken.

They came to me with memories of their past lives, demanding, "Why did you steal our special abilities?"

In front of thousands of people, I unleashed a net of lightning, scorching those who came to block my way. They knelt in the mud, their heads bleeding from kowtowing; Elena covered her mouth, which had been slapped clean, and David trembled on his single leg, leaning on a rusty steel pipe—yet they couldn't even climb over the iron thorns surrounding my tower.

Later, they rotted into a pile of mud in the arena and among the hordes of corpses, and I didn't even look back.

Until a horde of millions of zombies besieged the city, I went out alone with my sword and shattered the zombie king with a single strike.

The entire ruins knelt down.

They thought I had stolen the light.
No. I was just a fire that burned away what should have been garbage.

Warning: 18+ only🔕🔕
Featuring hardcore taboo, filthy age-gap erotica, and the darkest forbidden fantasies that will wreck you for anything else. This is a super steamy boxset loaded with thirty wild stories of raw, dripping desire. Think twisted, sweat-soaked, heart-racing adventures so naughty and intense they'll leave you squirming, gasping, and desperate for more on every page.

These aren't cute little love stories, honey. These are straight-up ruthless, rule-breaking romps where older men take total control and younger women melt into the kind of sin that has you soaked and shaking all over.

If you're not eighteen or older, close this right now, babe. You're seriously not ready for the fire that's about to hit you.

As a wolf princess, I gave up my beast core, my dignity, and three years of life for my mate’s throne. I walked willingly into the lion clan’s darkest kennel camp, enduring beastly torture and dog-like degradation. I survived on rot and poison, clinging to false hope. Until I returned and learned the bitter truth: my wolf mate destroyed me with his own hands. The war was fake, and my hell was his deliberate choice.

On our tenth anniversary, a doctor told me I had three months left.
I called Graham five times before he picked up. He was at a restaurant downtown, cutting the steak on his ex-girlfriend's plate, and he told me to stop acting like a paranoid wife.
So I never told him.
I folded the diagnosis into my coat pocket, went home, and rinsed the blood out of the sink before he walked in. Then I signed away the house, the cars, every share of the firm I helped him build. I left his ring on the coffee table, canceled the number I'd had for ten years, and checked into a hospice with nobody's name on my emergency contact line.
He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd come crawling back the second the money ran out.
He didn't find the diagnosis until it was too late to matter.

He was her brother’s best friend.
Her first love. Her first everything.
Six years ago, Axel “Ghost” Cruz left Emilia Romano broken. Now he’s back scarred, dangerous, and the ruthless enforcer of the Iron Serpents MC.
Her father is dead. The club is at war. And Axel is the one man she should never want.
But one touch is enough to burn it all down.
Because some desires are forbidden… and some are worth dying for.
Biker’s Forbidden Desire is a dark, steamy, forbidden biker romance full of danger, obsession, and the kind of love that breaks every rule.

The night before her wedding, Leah Carter caught her fiancé Elias in bed with another woman.

Elias humiliated her, manipulated her, and even plotted to pass her off to another man like an object to be discarded. In her most desperate moment, Matto Moretti came crashing through the door — reeking of blood and violence, the kind of man the entire underworld feared without question. He put a bullet through Elias's shoulder without blinking, then caught Leah's chin between his fingers, his voice low and absolute:

"Your man slept with my woman. That makes you responsible for the debt. Sign the paper and marry me."

Leah's Perspective

I told myself I was nothing more than a canary in his gilded cage — a substitute, a stand-in for someone else's sin.

We had known each other for exactly one month, and none of it made any sense. He detonated into my life like a bomb: money, tenderness, protection — all of it arriving at once, all of it suffocating in its intensity. He behaved like a man completely undone by me, and yet we had barely known each other thirty days.

Was this love at first sight? I didn't think so. There had to be another reason. I didn't know what I was to him, or why he looked at me the way he did — like a man who had loved me for years. And I knew nothing about him. Nothing at all.

Matto's Perspective

She will never know that she has been mine since long before any of this began.

I am not proud of how I came to have her. But that doesn't matter. What matters is this: you have no idea how long I have loved you. It started before all of this — before the gun, before the contract, before she ever knew my name. She will never know the truth of it, and that is fine. She only needs to know that I love her in ways that would frighten her if she ever truly understood.

As long as she stays, I would give her everything. My empire. My fortune. My life, without a moment's hesitation.

The man the world knew as cold-blooded and untouchable had been loving Leah Carter in the dark for years.

He would make Elias pay for what he had done. He would unearth the truth of her buried identity — a secret twenty years in the making. And in every shadow she could not see, he would clear the thorns from her path before she ever felt them, becoming the sharpest blade she never knew she carried.

Matto gave Leah his wealth and his kingdom. More than that, he gave her his heart — fierce, honest, and entirely hers.

"You have been mine since that day, long before you knew it."

"The whole world may fear me. But you — you are only ever allowed to love me."

He did not marry her on impulse.

He married her because he had been planning it for a very long time, and he had never once intended to let her go.

Leah × Matto — You are the captive in my hands, and the only salvation I have ever known.

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

I'm the top account director at my firm, always on the road, running myself ragged on golf courses and client dinners. Some months I barely make it back to the office at all.

Right after I land a $300 million contract for the company, my boss decides to hand the whole thing over to a new intern.

My manager says I'm wasting company resources, that my attitude's a problem. My boss tells me to give the new hire a chance. The intern thinks she can just take over my job without breaking a sweat.

None of them get it. Without me, this project never gets off the ground.

I don't bother telling them that.

Once the handoff is done, I walk straight into our biggest rival.

And watch them beg me to come back.

My fiancée accused me of not caring about family.
To make it up to her, I planned a luxury vacation for all of us.
But the night before we left, she told me she'd given my first-class seat to her childhood best friend.
Instead, she booked me a seat in economy—on a flight with a recent terror threat advisory.
The whole family thought I should just go along with it.
That's when I finally woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and rerouted to Hawaii instead.
I turned off my phone, leaving them to deal with the $20,000 bill.
It wasn't until their hotel reservations got canceled that they started to panic.

In our strict, unforgiving religious community, lust is the ultimate sin, one that can destroy your soul and your reputation forever.

I just turned 18. He is 38. The pastor’s only son.

Eli Whitaker has been my darkest secret for months.

Long before anyone suspected, he cornered me in the empty chapel and made me sin in ways I never imagined. Rough. Forbidden. Addictive. Every stolen night I tell myself it’s the last time, but when he pins me down and fucks me like I belong to him, heaven and hell stop mattering.

Now our worlds are colliding in dangerous ways. Every Sunday I sit in the front pew while Eli stands beside Pastor Matt preaching purity and righteousness… while his cum is still dripping down my thighs from what he did to me before service.

The entire church is watching. Gossips like Chloe and Leah are always hunting for scandal. Josh wants me. Caleb keeps asking questions after Eli nearly beat him for commenting on how sexy I look.

One wrong move and everything will explode- Pastor Matt’s wealth, our family’s reputation, and this twisted, addictive thing between us.

He calls me “little sister” in public. In private, he ruins me.

This is our sin.
And we don’t want salvation.

We want each other… no matter how many commandments we break.

⚠️EROTICA⚠️

"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.

My wife was sleeping with her assistant.

I didn’t confront her. I was in the middle of a critical funding round and about to take over as CEO, and I couldn’t afford to act on emotion.

Then my PI told me the truth: the affair was only the beginning.

On her birthday night, she planned to drug me, send my secretary into my room, and frame me for cheating—maybe even saddle me with a fake child scandal.

If it worked, my CEO promotion would be dead, the funding would collapse, and my reputation would be finished.

She thought the setup was flawless.

Too bad she forgot one thing:

I’m not good at explaining myself. I’m good at letting people walk straight into the trap I built for them.

So that night, the man carried into the room wasn’t me.

It was her lover.

When the apocalypse came, my materialistic ex-girlfriend not only complained that I only knew how to play games, but also conspired with relatives to poison me, cruelly steal my superpower crystal core, and degrade me into a hopeless cripple!
She thought that by taking away my power she could curry favor with the powerful and live a carefree life, but little did she know that not only did I not die, but the "League of Legends max level system" in my mind had actually completed its ultimate upgrade!
Sylas uses his ultimate to regain his power, Pyke's X-shaped slash breaks his enemy's limbs; a horde of 100,000 zombies presses in, and the whole city is in despair, when I descend from the sky with my treasure girl who is my life partner!
Pantheon's slam, Miss Fortune's barrage, Ziggs's nuke... Five LOL ultimate moves in a row wiped out the entire field, evaporating 100,000 zombies in one minute and directly ascending to the throne of the wasteland god!
Looking at my stunningly beautiful and god-level support character whom I had spoiled rotten, my ex-girlfriend, who had fallen into the mire, was filled with remorse. She knelt in the sewage, kowtowing and crying, begging to be a foot-washing maid.
I looked down at them and sneered, "Sorry, my five-player squad is already full."

In her past life, Serena stopped her brother's kidney donation and bore the blame for every family heartbreak that followed.
Reborn, she watches him willingly throw away his promising basketball career to save his lover—and she walks away.
When fate abandons her brother and her family tears itself apart, Serena carves out a brilliant, unapologetic life for herself.

In his previous life, Evan risked his life to protect his fiancée and brothers in the apocalypse, only to be pushed off the fortress and fed to zombies. She thought she had obtained the address of the supply warehouse, but he had already been watching her affair with her lover on surveillance cameras.

Thinking she had his Noah's Ark, she was thrown into an empty warehouse on the day the virus broke out, and then sold as a bargaining chip by the mob.

When the zombie horde surged in, his former "white moonlight" and "true love" knelt before the fortress gate, begging him to open it.

Evan coldly uttered: "This time, it's your turn to taste despair."

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.