After abandoning me for his lover, my mate regretted
I spent five years helping Charlotte recover from paralysis, but she saw me only as a brother, clinging to Sebastian, who abandoned her. Her favoritism cut deep-she defended him, ignored my sacrifices, even let him hurt her. When I finally left, she realized her mistake. Years later, I returned with Hailey, my mate, to plan our bond ceremony. Charlotte begged for another chance, but I'd moved on.
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Chapter 3
Everyone called her recovery a miracle. But it wasn't. I
t was me, clawing her out of that abyss, piece by piece.
Now, she'd walked out of that abyss-and left me behind.
My phone buzzed, jarring me from the memory. I fumbled it out, the screen glaring with "Ms. Kingsley."
Charlotte's mother. I knew what was coming.
Her voice was smooth, polite, but sharp as a blade.
"Ethan, Charlotte's heir of the pack now. Her mate needs to be someone with status, someone who can lift her higher. I'm grateful for your Five years of loyalty, but let's be clear-if it wasn't for our pack's support, you'd never have made it to college. That debt's paid. We're even."
She paused, probably expecting me to beg or rage. I just stared down the empty hallway where Charlotte had disappeared with Sebastian.
"Okay," I said, my voice calm as a grave. "I'm gone. You won't see me again."
I hung up the phone and headed straight to the hospital. The gash on my forehead took Five stitches, and the healer warned me to keep it dry.
I nodded, numb, and shuffled out of the clinic.
That's when I spotted Charlotte's Bentley parked not far from the entrance, its window cracked open. Inside, Sebastian was hunched over her shoulder, his voice thick with tears.
"Charlotte, I messed up back then." he choked out.
"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I had no choice. My parents wouldn't let us be together-they shipped me off other packs, took my phone, everything. I didn't want to leave you."
Charlotte sat there, silent, her profile soft in the dim light. I stood frozen, my feet rooted to the ground, watching from the shadows.
"Why'd you come back then?" she finally asked, her voice low, like a distant howl.
Sebastian's head dropped, tears streaking down his face.
"Because I can't forget you. I know you've got Ethan now, and I'm not asking for anything. Just don't chase me away. Let me stay, even if it's just to watch you from afar."
My chest tightened as Charlotte stayed quiet for what felt like forever. Then she reached out, gently wiping his tears away.
"I don't blame you," she said.
"And Ethan. he's just a brother to me, nothing like what you're thinking."
Sebastian's eyes lit up, a shaky smile breaking through. "Really?"
She nodded, and he pulled her into a hug, sobbing with relief.
I let out a bitter laugh under my breath and turned away, heading straight for the Registry office.
At the Registry office, the clerk slid a form across the counter. "Visa'll be ready in two weeks."
I thanked him and stepped outside into the darkening sky.
My next stop was Charlotte's villa, where I'd lived for Five years to take care of her.
I'd been naive enough to think of it as home.
The entryway still had the slippers I'd picked out, the living room my woven blankets, the dining room a tattered note with my "gut-friendly recipes" taped to the cabinet. Now, I had to erase every trace of myself.
While packing, I found a photo . It was from the day Charlotte nailed her rehab, standing tall, her rare smile lighting up the frame. I stood beside her, grinning like an idiot, my eyes glinting with unshed tears.
The edges of the photo were worn, rubbed raw from how many times I'd held it.
I stared at it for a long time before tossing it into the trash.
Some dreams were better left dead.
"I forgot my stomach meds," she said, her voice husky from sleep, casual like last night never happened. "Can you drop them off at the office?"
I paused for a beat. "Sure."
When I got to her office, the elevator doors slid open, and there was Sebastian, holding a fancy box, his smile as warm as a summer day.
"Hey, small world," he said. "I'm bringing Charlotte some salad. Wanna join?"
I didn't answer, just followed him into her office.
Charlotte was buried in paperwork, but her brow arched when she saw us together. "What, you two carpooling now?"
"Ran into him downstairs," Sebastian said, popping open the lunch box. The spicy aroma of hot pot filled the room.
"Got your favorite-extra lime juice!"
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9.3
Three years ago, I walked away from Donovan Gordon as he lay on his deathbed. Now, he's back, striding into the luxury hotel where I work, richer and more powerful than I could have ever imagined.
He didn't just ignore me. He spent the night making my life a living hell, forcing me to change the sheets on the bed he now shared with his new girlfriend.
He called me a traitor, a gold-digger who abandoned him for his rival.
He had no idea the only reason he was standing there, alive and breathing, was because my kidney was inside his body.
But that sacrifice had cost me everything. My remaining kidney was failing, and I didn't come back for forgiveness. I came back for one last look at the man I saved, because my doctors weren't sure I'd survive my next surgery.
9.7
⚠️ 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.
7.1
The smell of leaking gasoline burned my nostrils, but the cold look in my husband's eyes hurt worse.
Trapped in the overturned car, I watched Jacob reach in. He didn't reach for me, his wife. He unbuckled his mistress, Cassandra, shielding her head with a tenderness he never showed me.
He walked away, leaving me to burn.
I survived, but at a brutal cost. My right hand—the hand that played Chopin—was crushed into a useless claw.
Jacob didn't apologize. Instead, he moved Cassandra into our home. He let her wear my diamonds, mock my injuries, and burn my sheet music.
When I tried to expose her embezzlement, he called me unstable. To punish me for "betraying the family," he dug up my mother's grave and threw her ashes into the sea.
That was the moment the wife died, and something else was born. He thought he had buried me under the weight of his cruelty. He didn't realize he had planted a seed.
I staged my death and vanished into the snowy streets of Vienna.
Five years later, I am a world-renowned composer, and Jacob is a ruined man in a wheelchair, begging for a forgiveness I no longer have the energy to give.
7.9
Ten years of love. Ten years of loyalty. He repaid her with a knife to the heart.
When Aria wakes up ten years in the past, lying next to the same man who will one day destroy her, she realizes she has been given a second chance. But this time, she can hear every thought inside his head. Every lie. Every scheme. Every filthy desire.
He doesn't know she knows. And that is his greatest mistake.
Armed with the truth, Aria will play the game better than he ever could. She will make him fall, make him beg, and burn everything he ever wanted to the ground.
Then a stranger enters her life, a man whose thoughts she cannot read at all. What is he hiding? And why does it feel like he has been waiting for her all along?
9.8
My fiancé, Jameson Blair, married my twin sister today. For five years, I was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman he truly wanted, and I pretended not to know.
Today, she came back with a story of terminal cancer and a dying wish to marry him. It was a perfect lie, and he chose to believe it, shattering my world with three simple words: "She's Haleigh."
They left me on the sidewalk, an outcast from my own blood. My brothers, who once promised to protect me, celebrated the woman who broke me. They moved my things to a guest room, making space for their prodigal sister. That night, Haleigh gave me a "welcome home" gift—a box with a brown recluse spider inside.
As the venom coursed through me, my family rushed to her side, calling my agony "a little spider bite." They left me convulsing on the floor. Later, they whipped me for a crime I didn't commit, hung me off a cliff, and left me for dead.
My body is a roadmap of their love. Each scar, each broken bone, is a testament to their betrayal. They believed her lies, but their real crime was never truly seeing me.
As I clung to that cliff, bleeding and broken, a single thought consumed me: Isabella Douglas died here tonight. Now, Isabella Hale would be born from the ashes.
9.4
The password to my husband's study wasn't our anniversary. It was his mistress's birthday.
Inside, hidden under a stack of blueprints, I found a document titled "Transfer of Guardianship."
It stated that upon birth, I would be stripped of all parental rights, and my baby would be raised by Kaleigh, the "Luna Designate."
When I confronted Jacob, the Alpha of the Moonstone Pack, he didn't even flinch.
"Kaleigh is wolfless and barren," he said coldly, sipping his whiskey. "She has the political connections to be Luna. You are just an Omega."
"I am your wife!" I screamed.
"You are an incubator," he corrected me. "Your genes are useful. Your status is not."
He then tossed a key on the table. It was for a hidden condo. He told me that after they took my son, I could live there as his secret mistress for "stress relief."
Kaleigh even mind-linked me, laughing as she called me a vessel, bragging that Jacob had never marked me because he was saving his bite for her.
I realized then that running wasn't enough. To save my son, Aurelia Flynn had to cease to exist.
I bought a vial of "The Widow's Kiss"—a poison that stops the heart for ten minutes—and lit a match.
As the flames consumed our penthouse, I drank the poison and let the world believe the Alpha's rejected mate had committed suicide.
Ten years later, deep in the mountains, Jacob stumbled into a clearing while inspecting land.
He fell to his knees when he saw me, thinking he was seeing a ghost.
"Aurelia? I buried you..."
"You buried a memory," I said, my voice commanding him with a power he had never known I possessed.
Then, a boy stepped out from behind me. He had Jacob's jawline, but his eyes were molten gold, and his aura was that of a legendary White Wolf.
Jacob looked at the boy, trembling. "Is he... is he mine?"
"He is mine," I replied, my eyes glowing. "You wanted a tool for your mistress. Instead, I raised the King who will strip you of everything."