2832 Book(s) Related to until my venis run dry

“I want this,” I told him boldly, looking at him squarely in the eyes. “I want you.” I peeled off my t-shirt and threw it to the floor, returning my hands to his chest.

“I don’t think you’re thinking straight,” Grant chuckled lightly. “I think you may have drunk a little too much at the party.”

My hands drifted to his boxers once again, making him realize that I was actually serious about this.

Rose is in love with her brother's best friend, Grant and the feeling is mutual.
Grant doesn’t have a steady home. His mom is never around and when she is, they fight. Trent and Rose is the only stable thing in his life.
Their parents abandoned them and Trent had to step up and become a parent to his little sister, which is why Rose never want to hurt him.

Both not wanting to hurt Trent, they keep their love a secret but the funny thing about secrets is that they never stay hidden.

Will Trent ever find out?

Ex-Army Ranger Ethan Hayes carries a secret he’s determined to keep buried—a tragic past he can’t outrun. After losing his wife and children to the shadowy organization he was hunting, he’s left with nothing but nightmares. All he wants now is a distraction, something to occupy his restless mind and keep the memories at bay. What he doesn’t expect is the fiery, socially awkward bombshell he’s been hired to protect.

Carrie Johnson is desperate to escape her father’s overbearing grip in Chicago. Determined to prove she can live life on her own terms, she flees to the small, quiet town of Harbor Springs. But freedom is short-lived when her father’s influence follows her in the form of Ethan Hayes—the most infuriatingly attractive man she’s ever met. At first, Ethan sees her as nothing more than a spoiled brat, but after a magical, unexpected kiss, he’s struggling to resist her charms.

When Carrie’s car is vandalized, her modeling career is sabotaged by a vengeful ex-boyfriend, and her father leaves for Tokyo, she’s forced to rely on the very man she swore she didn’t need. Meanwhile, Ethan begins to realize Carrie might just be what he’s been missing all along—a reason to hope, to heal, and maybe even to love again.

As their connection deepens, ghosts from both their pasts resurface, threatening the fragile bond they’ve built. But Ethan and Carrie refuse to let their fears win. Together, they’ll fight for the future they’ve only dared to dream of—no matter what it costs.

Love, danger, and second chances collide in this sizzling romance about healing, trust, and the power of a love worth fighting for.

Sophie Hart lives a bustling life in her Los Angeles loft, balancing her career as a successful designer with the demands of raising her six-year-old son, Ethan. One night, exhausted from work, she drifts into a restless sleep at her desk. In her dream, Dominic, her step-brother, enters her studio, and her heart skips a beat. The fantasy is forbidden, a temptation she knows she should resist, yet the thrill of it makes her cheeks flush and her pulse race. Her private reverie is interrupted when Ethan wanders into the room, hungry, and notices a business magazine on her desk with Dominic on the cover. His innocent question, “Who is this?” catches her off guard, especially when he points out that Dominic’s grey eyes match his own. Sophie offers a vague answer, hiding her emotions, and quickly takes Ethan to dinner. Her life is independent and fulfilling, but this small intrusion from the past ignites memories she has long tried to suppress. Later that evening, Sophie receives a letter from a lawyer. Her stepfather, Richard, has passed away after a serious illness. A funeral is scheduled in New York in three days, and her presence is required. Her heart tightens at the thought. Richard, despite the complexity of their family, had always treated her kindly, offering support and praise for her artwork, never mistreating her. Out of respect and gratitude, Sophie knows she cannot refuse. As she watches Ethan sleep, she is filled with conflicting emotions, uncertain about what awaits her in New York after seven years away.

Arina De Luca's world is shattered the night she walked in on her husband being shot... and the man holding the gun is Luciano Martínez, the sinfully beautiful billionaire CEO who owes the city.

Then comes the real blow to the stomach: her late husband had already signed a contract promising her in marriage... to his own killer.

Forced to a marriage she hates with every fiber of her being, Arina becomes the rebellion wife of Luciano Martínez.

Arina hates hates him with such violence... but she also wants him with a fury that consumes her: she wants him to open her legs and fuck her until she screams his name instead of cursing him.

Arina hates herself for allowing any feeling to flourish towards the man who stole her husband's life. Will that hatred cost her everything?

Read on to find out.

She had really been reborn.
Before turning eighteen, she was one of the most prominent merchant heiresses in New York, showered with love and affection by her parents.

Later, her father trusted the wrong people and incurred huge debts, leading to his imprisonment. After her mother learned that her father had committed suicide in prison, she hastily sent Aileen abroad, only to follow her father into the afterlife.

Her amber eyes struggled as she realized that if God was giving her another chance, she wouldn't live as timidly and meekly as in her previous life.


She gazed quietly at the black and white photo on the tombstone.
The man in the photo had thin lips and a pair of gloomy eyes under thick eyebrows, devoid of warmth. Geoffrey was born from humble origins, his parents had long passed away, and he was a silent and unsociable doctor during his lifetime.
Aileen felt guilty as she realized that this man, who was legally closest to her, she never truly understood him, nor did she ever invest any thoughts in him. But he silently gave her the whole world.

Reborned, she would try to understand him and change their future, and this loveless contract marriage. Then she learned that their encounter was earlier than she predicted.

Warning: include criminal content

Married to Zane Blackwood, one of the richest billionaires in Europe, Amy has everything she could wish for, a devoted husband, a luxurious life, and an unbreakable love. But underneath the surface of their perfect marriage lies something far more dangerous.
Zane is not just powerful, he is ruthless, possessive, and strongly determined to keep Amy by his side. Yet when pieces of a past she can’t remember begin to surface, she starts having doubts. The passion between them is strong and evident, but so is the unsettling feeling that something isn’t right.
As secrets are revealed and the lines between love and control dissipate , Amy is faced with a difficult choice. Can she tame the ruthless billionaire CEO, or will she lose herself in the process.

As the Mafia Princess of her familia, Eleanor is more than ready to secure her family’s future through her marriage with another Mafia don's son. But right before her engagement party, Eleanor catches her fiancé cheating and claiming she “lacks feminine charm.”
Heartbroken and furious, Eleanor ends up seeking comfort in the arms of the bodyguard who punches her fiance to the ground that night.
The next day, Eleanor is determined to break off the engagement and reclaim her life, but her powerful mafia father has other plans.
To keep Eleanor in line, her father assigns a bodyguard to shadow her every move.
A bodyguard who turns out to be the man she spent the reckless, unforgettable night with.
Now Eleanor is trapped between a fiancé she refuses to marry, a father she cannot escape, and her dangerous, mysterious and attractive bodyguard...

For his mother's life, he willingly became a live-in son-in-law for three years, enduring countless humiliations from his wife and male lover. Only when they themselves unplugged the life support pod did he retrieve the dusty cell phone from the pool of blood. The "Zero" access to the Silicon Valley dark web had been unlocked; this time, he would make the entire Crawford empire pay with its life.

I used to think the most embarrassing moment of my life was when my neighbor called the cops on me for testing "special" game sound effects.
That was before the door opened to reveal a devastatingly handsome police officer who accused me of hiding someone in my apartment—and casually informed me he was my husband of three months. A husband I'd never actually met.
The worst part? He had proof.
Now this impossibly attractive stranger isn't just forcing his way into my life—he's become the unwitting inspiration for my new game's male lead.

Five years ago, they stripped me of my rank and stopped my retirement pay. Now, with the Imperial army at the gates, they kneel at my door, begging for my services. My daughter is wearing last year's shoes, her big toe practically sticking out. My wife is still refilling coffee at a fast-food restaurant at 3 a.m. The neighbors call me "that welfare-dependent guy" behind my back. I pulled my five-year-old dismissal order from under the bill and slipped it under the door. "You've got the wrong person."

As the zombie with half its face rotten lunged at my throat, an utterly absurd thought popped into my head. Instinctively, I raised the supermarket barcode scanner in my hand and aimed it at its face.

"Beep—Target: Level 1 Mutant Infected Person. Estimated Recovery Value: Equivalent to half a bottle of mineral water."

Who would have thought that in this cannibalistic apocalypse, these bloodthirsty monsters who feel no pain and only know how to kill could actually be forcibly converted into cash by the system?!

From that day on, I completely trampled the laws of this broken world under my feet.

While others were killing each other in the ruins for half a piece of moldy bread, I was comfortably sitting in my "Red Lion" supermarket, doing big business with a zombie whose head I had smashed in half.

Two bags of flour, I traded for a box of antibiotics; three boxes of sausages, and it led a zombie squad to the police station to empty my armory. As long as I can afford it, these tireless monsters are my most loyal laborers.

A vicious thug drove a bulldozer and smashed through my wall, threatening to chop up the men and take the women away. I didn't even draw my gun; I just yelled at the door, "Kill these scumbags, and all twenty kilograms of bacon are yours!" The next second, an army of zombies burst through the window and tore the thugs to pieces in an instant.

The arrogant leader of the survivor base, driving five hundred refugees to act as human shields, attempted to use moral blackmail to force me to hand over supplies? I sneered and sounded the air raid siren, awakening the horde of zombies throughout the city. I sat in front of the monitor, sipping hot tea, watching her, who was once so invincible, be completely swallowed by the monsters, as if watching a play.

Trying to take over my territory? First, ask my paid zombie bodyguards outside if they'll allow it!

Through a crazy "equivalent exchange" strategy, I transformed a run-down supermarket into an impregnable steel fortress that even regular troops couldn't break into.

Until that day, the military defenses completely collapsed. Seven four-meter-tall, city-destroying "tyrants" led a super horde of 150,000 zombies to the city's gates! With only sixty seconds left on the countdown to the tactical nuclear missile, the arrogant military commander, his eyes red with tears, begged me to intervene and save the city.

I was trapped underground by seven tyrants, chewing on the last piece of chocolate my zombie underling had left me before he died, and pressed the system's "Ultimate Equivalence".

The system asked me if I was willing to trade my life for absolute control over 150,000 mutants in the entire city.

I smiled and said, "Deal."

When the white light of the nuclear explosion dissipated, and the entire city was reduced to ruins, everyone assumed I was gone without a trace. But I, leaning against the intact rooftop of the fortress, looked down at the tyrant who humbly submitted to me, my eyes gleaming with a dark golden light.

In this lawless hell, my rules are the only ironclad law!

My husband pushed me down the stairs when I was three months pregnant.

I thought it was his bipolar disorder acting up again. The doctors said he couldn't control himself. So I forgave him—just like I'd forgiven the cigarette burns, the broken ribs, and all those nights he choked me unconscious.

Then I lost our baby.

And overheard him on the phone: "The bitch deserved it. If she hadn't stopped me three years ago, Elena would be mine."

That's when I realized—he was never sick. He'd been torturing me on purpose for three years.

Punishing me because I "made him lose" the woman he loved.

So I signed the divorce papers and walked away without looking back.

Last lifetime, my mate, Kael, had faked his own death just to openly sleep with his sister-in-law without judgment.

I screamed until my throat bled, pointing at the man pretending to be his dead twin brother.

For telling the truth, he dragged me to the sacred altar and burned my mark off my skin, while our four-year-old son was thrown into a pitch-black cell for crying out for her father.

We were banished, torn apart by rogues.

But the Moon Goddess is fair. She woke me up on the exact day of the funeral.

As the pack howls in mourning for their "dead" Alpha, I look at the man hiding in his brother's skin.

I won't expose him this time.

If Kael wants to play a dead man just to play house with his whore, I'll make sure he stays dead forever.

For as long as I could remember, I had lived under the protection of Casper, Julian, and Rowan.
I took their affection for granted, never expecting that their deep devotion would suddenly curdle into something unrecognizable.
When Elara, a new intern, crashed into our lives, they defended and favored her at every turn. They handed over my hard work on a silver platter, painting me as nothing more than a spoiled, unreasonable princess.
On a night of torrential rain, stranded on the highway and enduring excruciating pain, I begged them for help time and time again. All I received were scoldings and dismissals.
It turned out that their so-called "doing what's best for me" was just a cold war, a calculated cruelty designed to force my head down.
I stopped crying and begging. I signed my resignation letter, returned everything they had ever given me, and agreed to an arranged marriage far away in Italy.
This absurd farce, started by them, would be ended by my own hands.

I’d spent four years slaving away in the hospital basement sorting medical waste.
I thought I’d finally scraped together enough money to pay for my brother Leo’s brain damage treatment.
But he just took the card and tossed it onto the coffee table.
“I got better ages ago. That lousy little paycheck of yours? I blew it on a necklace for Victoria.”
My husband David pushed open the study door. “That story about me going bankrupt and losing my board seat? Total lie. Victoria and I have been together for a year.”
“We planned that whole thing together—sending you down to the basement to pick through trash.”
My parents held out an organ donor agreement in front of me. “That waste disposal job? Victoria got it for you. Her kidney match results came back. You’re the only match. Sign this, and you can still be our daughter.”
Victoria walked in, holding a little boy’s hand. It was Eli—my son, the one I’d thought died in that car crash four years ago.
He stared at me with this cold, disgusted look, like I was a stranger. “Mom, is this ugly lady gonna give you her kidney?”
I pulled the physical exam report I’d gotten a week ago out of my pocket.
Late-stage osteosarcoma. They said I only had ten days left to live.
Counting today,I had three days left.

The idea came from Cora.
She ran into the kitchen while I was making dinner, wrapped both arms around my waist, and looked up at me.
"Mommy, can we go to Grandma Ellen's? Just us two? Just us girls?"
"Why?" I asked.
She thought about it, very serious. "Because every time I wake up and you're not home, I miss you. Even when Daddy's there, it's different." A pause. "Grandma Ellen probably misses you just as much as I do."
Reid was leaning in the doorway. He smiled at me—that easy, certain smile—and said, "She's not wrong. You've been running on empty for months. Take the trip. I've got everything covered."
The flights were booked before I finished washing the dishes.
I should have noticed how fast that was.
The call I made the night before we flew home changed everything. I thought I'd hung up.
I hadn't.

My boss and I had one night. A mistake—or so I told myself, right up until I found a file in his office with my photo labeled "Potential Breeder," tucked inside a folder marked Pack Hierarchy. Same night the pregnancy test came back positive.
His eyes were glowing gold when he walked in.
I ran before sunrise. New name, new city, a life built from nothing.
Five years later, my son stops aggressive dogs in midair with his bare hands. He wakes up at 3 AM telling me someone is coming before the car even turns onto our street. His eyes flash gold when he's angry, and his voice makes grown men step back without knowing why.
The most powerful werewolf in the western territories has been looking for us for five years.
He just found our street.

This was my 43rd time proposing to Isaac, and once again, he turned me down.
Then I spotted the black lace peeking out from his bag.
"My lab partner's on her period. I bought them for her."
The genius said it without a hint of guilt—even had the nerve to say I was being unreasonable.
We argued, and I stormed out, only to end up in a brutal car accident."
Bleeding on the asphalt, I used my last bit of strength to call him.
His response was ice-cold:
"A crash just thirty minutes after you left? Jane, your act is getting pathetic."
The moment he hung up, something broke—and not just my leg.
Seven years of delusion shattered with it.
When I woke up, I accepted my childhood friend's proposal.

Dumped by her groom publicly, Luna married his uncle—Theodore, a business tycoon.
Hatred? Revenge? Or his long-planning?

Wedding night, he handed over a contract. “Nice doing business with you, my wife.”
When her down-and-out ex begged for a second chance? Luna smirked, swirling wine. “I'm Luna Carter, your new aunt—and the new owner of the Davis's enterprise.”

When billionaire heiress Ruth Keen falls for a gorgeous, supposedly broke college student, she hides her identity and plays the role of an ordinary girl to win his heart. Marriage comes fast, life is sweet, and everything seems perfect — until she discovers her impoverished husband is actually Matthew Lynes, a powerful tycoon who’s been outplaying her from the start.

The Plan: Travel back in time to high school, identify my insanely intimidating future billionaire boss before he gets rich, and suck up to him so hard I secure a six-figure job for life.
The Execution: Perfect. I brought him coffee, cheered at his games, and basically operated as his unpaid teenage executive assistant. He’s totally buying it.
The Problem: I was trying to network my way into the C-suite. I think I just networked my way into his bed.

I’m a top assassin.

Three years ago, on a rainy night, I was being hunted when a stranger took a bullet for me. As he lay dying, he grabbed my hand and begged me to protect his son—and to keep living in his place.

To escape my pursuers and keep that promise, I changed my face, took his identity, and stayed by the boy’s side as his father.

His wife was arrogant, cruel, and constantly cheating. For the child—and to protect my cover—I endured all of it.

Until today.

She drugged me.

When I woke up, a doctor was holding a blade over my chest. They were about to take my heart.

Lying on that operating table, I finally learned the truth: her family had been trafficking organs all along.

That man died three years ago because he discovered it, and she arranged the crash that killed him.

She murdered the man who saved me. Now she wants to kill me too.

She still thinks I’m the same weak doctor who gets out of breath after a short run.

She doesn’t know I’m resistant to anesthesia.

And she definitely doesn’t know these hands have held scalpels—and snapped far too many necks.

At the magic academy’s party, I overheard my werewolf boyfriend in the lounge saying he was going to destroy me.

"Alexander, her magic core is merely experiencing a temporary disruption. According to the academy infirmary's suturing protocol, her magical output will fully recover in three days. Why did you lie and tell her the core is necrotic and must be dug out?" the school doctor asked.

My werewolf boyfriend's deep voice was as cold as silver salt scraping across glass—

"If she doesn't drop out of the Magic Scroll Championship finals, how can Vivienne win?"
"I cannot let her destroy Vivienne's dream!"

I froze in the shadows of the corridor, my fingertips going numb.
It turned out that the love I believed in, the protection and the future he kept promising me, were nothing but him treating me as an obstacle to his childhood sweetheart's success.

If that’s the case—

I don't need this man anyway!

My mafia husband has a childhood sweetheart. Whenever she or her son needed anything, he would eagerly rush to their aid.
This time, when our son Noah suffered from acute retinopathy and desperately needed his signature for surgery, he claimed she was in mortal danger and couldn't leave.
Because he wasn't there to sign the paperwork, Noah ultimately went blind.
Yet later, on his sweetheart's Instagram, I saw that he was just dining with her and her son...

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

A hundred years ago, I was the strongest Delta the Silver Moon Pack had ever produced.

Born with the God Bone, unmatched in power, I had Royal Guard recruiters showing up at my door three times, waiting for me to say yes. The whole pack assumed I'd lead them to glory.

Then came that night. My own family dragged me to the altar in the frozen vault.

My mother cried and said, "Lacey was born broken. Without the God Bone, she'll die."

"You're the older sister. You're strong. You'll survive without it."

I refused.

Grant, my fiancé, pulled the knife on me. Brandon, my brother, pinned down my arms and legs. My parents watched from the shadows, saying nothing.

"Don't be so selfish."

They carved the God Bone out of my body, drained every drop of my heart's blood, and threw me into a vault fifty degrees below zero.

My sister took everything that was mine and became the golden girl everyone adored.

A hundred years passed. I became the Supreme Commander of the Royal Guard.

This year, during recruitment, my adjutant handed me the candidate list. I saw a familiar name and smiled. I picked up my pen and crossed it out.

"Doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

On the night before my sister's bone marrow transplant, my parents confiscated my EpiPen and locked me in the attic.

Their "genetic consultant" warned them that the medication would contaminate the stem cells meant for my sister.

I had eaten the meal they provided—one secretly laced with lethal traces of nuts.

The resulting anaphylactic swelling was suffocating me completely.

I frantically bashed my head against the door. "My pen... Mom, I can't breathe..."

"Stop putting on a show!" Mom snapped through the wood. "That meal was entirely nut-free! Are you faking an allergic reaction just because you can't stand the thought of your sister finally getting well?"

Her footsteps retreated.

Agonizing pain and oxygen deprivation overtook me as I clawed at the floor until every one of my nails snapped off.

Until my breathing stopped completely.

My name is Damian Lemaître.

In my past life, I was Serafina Camarilla's lapdog for ten years, being drained of my life, used, and squeezed dry of my last bit of value.

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the scene of the blood pact ceremony. She sat on the high seat, waiting for me to kneel down and swear the oath with the same excitement as in my previous life.

"Damian Flamel, are you willing?"

"No."

Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

Seventy-two hours before my wedding, I stood in front of the fitting mirror at a bridal shop.

My best friend sent me a social media post, and the red exclamation mark in the message box stung my eyes sharply.

The post’s title read: Guys, my boyfriend is getting married to his current partner. What should I do?

The comment section had already erupted into chaos.
“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re the other woman here!”
“You’re the homewrecker and you dare post this to get roasted? Where’s your shame?”

The poster was firing back furiously, every word oozing unapologetic madness:
“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids! His first love, first kiss, first time—all mine!”
“He doesn’t even like that old hag; he’s only marrying her out of obligation!”
“Who’s the real mistress, anyway?”

I should have swiped past it like a silly joke, but my gaze was locked onto the poster’s profile picture.

It showed two hands laced together. Peeking out from the man’s wrist was a dark green watch dial—a Richard Mille Valentine’s Day limited edition. It was the seven-figure engagement gift I’d bought him by selling my mother’s last precious heirloom, the only one of its kind in the world.

My heart was squeezed tight by an icy hand, plummeting to the bottom in an instant.

I tapped into the account’s homepage. The second my finger swiped open the photo album, a dizzying, world-spinning sensation crashed over me.

In the photos, the man holding the girl closely was none other than Lu Yanchen—my fiancé, who was supposed to marry me in three days.

I stared at the screen. All the wedding hopes and love I’d saved up over three years shattered into nothing but dust at this moment.

I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. The man who’d loved me for three years and sworn to protect me forever had been lying to me from start to finish.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter.
Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain.
"Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies."
I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free.
"You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged.
Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head .
"She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

I thought I was the woman David couldn’t live without.
For our marriage, I gave up my career to stay in the kitchen, learning to cook all his favorite meals, and I endured every bit of hostility from his family without complaint.
I thought that was what love looked like—quiet devotion, two people growing old together. Until our third wedding anniversary.
During the World Cup final broadcast watched by millions, I saw him in the stadium stands… kissing my younger sister.
By the time I made it home, Lily already had my house key in her hand, standing in my own home like she had every right to be there.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered with a smile. “You can’t even give him a child. What makes you think you deserve to be his wife?”
David didn’t stop her. He didn’t defend me. He just watched. And let it happen.
What they forgot was simple. That house? It was mine. Not his.

For five years of marriage, I endured my Alpha King husband's cold neglect because he claimed to suffer from "Bond Deficiency Syndrome," making him incapable of falling in love with his fated mate.

I took a silver bullet for him, yet when danger struck, he abandoned me without hesitation and ran to another woman.

It wasn't until I got pregnant with his Double Alpha heir and went to surprise him that I overheard his cold voice outside the door: "The illness is faked. Once she gives birth to the heir, this marriage can end."

It turned out he understood everything; he just didn't love me.

I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I faked my death during an attack, leaving behind nothing but a blood-soaked wedding ring.

Later, the Alpha King who claimed he couldn't feel love went completely mad.

He abandoned his territory and searched for me for a year and a half.

But when he finally knelt in the blizzard, begging me to come back, my child was resting on another man's shoulder, sweetly babbling the word "Daddy."

While I was being kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in the horse stable of our own family farm, my all-powerful chaebol fiancée was helping my green tea younger brother try on wedding attire.
Before dying, with my broken, blood-stained finger, I dialed the last desperate call for help.
On the other end of the phone, her tone was filled with scorn and impatience: "Vincent, can't you even tolerate a little grievance from your younger brother? Let's just cancel the engagement, and I'll replace you with him as the groom."
Later, I truly died.
My soul drifted in mid-air, watching coldly as the whole family thought I was faking death to make a scene. My older sister even kicked over my disfigured body on the haystack in disgust: "Get up right now, stop pretending to be pitiful here!"
Until the flashlight's beam completely illuminated my ghastly, rigid face, and the shattered phone screen, still stuck on the moment she hung up, clutched tightly in my dead hand...
That forever aloof, arrogant female CEO finally went weak in the knees, kneeling in the foul-smelling, blood-soaked filth, and utterly lost her mind.

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

“I want you. I want all of you Noah and I want you to mark me.”
He kisses me immediately. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure in my life.”
He kisses me again, then stands up and takes off his trousers and boxers at the same time.
Oh boy, but it’s huge and standing at attention. He leans over me again “If you want me to stop you tell me and I’ll stop.” I nod.
He entered me very slowly and stayed still for a while, allowing my body to get used to his size. He started to move slowly and then gradually increased the pace.
“You’re so fucking tight” he growled.
“Noah don’t stop! Oh my God.” I could feel my orgasm approaching. Noah was coming harder and faster “I’ll never stop. Cum for me baby.”

Amelia is a 21 year old human who has just graduated from university. Her destiny will change when she meets the Alpha Noah. When she met the Greek god like Alpha, when they locked eyes and it was like he can read right through her soul, will her preserved virginity for 21 years be taken away by him in the flames of his love? And after going all this, will she have the courage to face her mother's long-hidden secret?

"I can't stay in dorms?" He shook his head as no and she shyly looked at the locked apartment. But then, her chin was pulled up. "Remember," his eyes dug into hers as his grip tightened on her chin. "You must follow every rule, jule." She shivered under his gaze that ran up and down on her. "If you don't," he leaned closer to her ear and she shyly raised her hand between her chest . "Daddy will be upset." His nose grazed over her neck and her cheeks turned pink. "And punishment will be worse".

Annah Jule is a university student who moved to Paris for abroad studies. Everything seemed to be perfect in her life until her father cheated on her mom and they both got divorce. Her mom being sick to her unpaid university bills had made her life more complicated and in the end, Jule had no choice but to be a sugar baby for Wayn Koln.

"Your pussy is dripping for us, begging for us to use it." His deep voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want that, buttercup? Do you want us to give your little cunt what it craves?"

"Y…yes, sir." I breathed


Joanna Clover's hard work through university paid off when she got a secretary job offer to her dream company, Dangote Group of Industries. The company is owned by three mafia heirs, they don't only own a joint business, they are also lovers and had been together since their college days.

They are sexually attracted to one another but they share everything together including women and they change them like clothes. They are known as the world's most dangerous playboys.

They want to share her but will she accept the fact that they fuck each other?

Will she be able to navigate business and pleasure?

She has never been touched by a man before let alone three, all at the same time. Will she oblige?

（There is a lot of sexual and stimulating content， minors are not allowed to read!!!）
After years of silence, Elisa suddenly announced her comeback, bringing tears of excitement to her fans.
During an interview, Elisa claimed to be single, causing a huge sensation.
Mrs. Brown divorced, skyrocketing to the top of the trending searches.
Everyone knows that Howard Brown is a ruthless tactician.
Just when everyone thought he was going to tear Elisa apart, a newly registered account left a comment on Elisa's personal account: "Keyboard and durian, which one do you want to see tonight?"

“Omega, in about an hour, you’ll feel warm, dizzy, and overcome with hormones in your body.”
I paled. “What happens after it takes effect?”
“Then an alpha in the surrounding area will react to your scent.”
After an hour, the nurse popped her head in. She had a strange look in her eyes and I didn’t like it.
“So he is out there?”
The nurse’s smile fell, “No, not one.”
My eyes widened. “two?”
“No, you have four mates.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not possible!”
She sighed and opened her phone. “Your mates are as follows; Colby Mcgrath, Rain Kim, Matthew Clark, and Jade Johnson.”
When she said the first name I started to feel faint but then the nurse kept rattling off all the names of my tormenters for years. How could I be tied to all of my brother’s friends?
My panties got wet, I refused to accept that this was a hormonal reaction.

After a car accident robbed Galvin of his memory, lies twisted him into hating Ellie—the woman he once sacrificed everything to protect.
Tormented and humiliated by him daily, Ellie’s love for Galvin faded completely. He made her sleep like a dog, stripped her before men, and forced her to kneel for his stepsister who stole him from her.
Only when Ellie gave up on love and jumped into the sea did Galvin’s memory return. In the splendid capital, all witnessed a madman desperately searching for his lost wife…

Rated 18+!! Steamy mature contents contained here!!!
Leilani Waters, a really beautiful independent lady, with the perfect body that can make any man sin willingly, won the heart of one of the most famous billionaires in the city, Neil. He loved her so much with his entire heart and could kill for her. Their lives went on smoothly until he walked in through the front door…Adonis Ace Giles, Neil’s stepbrother, a sex god, whose mouthwatering features will make any woman kill to get a taste of him and yet doesn’t believe in love.
Leilani found herself drooling over Adonis, and when the heat between them became unbearable, they had sex… and from that day, everything changed for Leilani.
What happens when Leilani is caught between marrying Neil and confessing her feelings to Adonis? What happens when things get really complicated and messy as there has been an eye watching them from afar? What happens when Blackmail, Betrayal and Heartbreak became the order of the day?
Excerpt
“Fuck me, Adonis.” I gasped against his shoulder, helplessly pressed into him as he rocked my body slowly with his slow, hard grinding.
He yanked his hand off my ass forcefully, and the thong snapped. The sound and the smack of it against my skin made me shudder, almost cumming.
He pulled the black thong away from me, the small fabric slick with my juices, and stuffed it in my open mouth. I groaned, hearing the tortured sound of my own groan muffled by my panties slick with my own wet. And I moaned again.
“So many fucking things I wanna do to your body, Leilani.” He growled, bunching my shirt up and I felt the cold of the hard surface against my heated skin.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” He said, gazing sinfully into my eyes as he said those maddening words and slid his erect cock out of his grey sweatpants.
My vagina clenched, spilling more moisture. Then he parted my legs even wider and plunged his cock into my vagina.
Deep. Wet. Hard.