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 4
My stomach dropped. "Her gut can't handle sour food," I said, voice tight.
Charlotte glanced at me, then grabbed a spoon.
"It's fine once in a while."
She scooped up a piece of lemon salad and ate it without flinching.
My hand clenched around the bag of meds, knuckles white.
It didn't take long for sweat to bead on her forehead, her fingers trembling as she gripped her pen.
"You okay, Charlotte?" Sebastian asked, concern in his voice.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile.
"I've got work to do. You guys head out."
I gave her a long look, set the meds on her desk, and walked away.
Downstairs, I couldn't hold it in.
"Her stomach's fragile," I told Sebastian. "Maybe think about that next time you bring her food."
He laughed, a sharp, mocking sound.
"Ethan, you still don't get it, do you? To Charlotte, you're just a glorified caretaker. You're supposed to keep track of that stuff. Me? I'm different. She loves me. I don't have to play by those rules."
He leaned closer, his grin cutting like a blade. "If I handed her poison, she'd swallow it with a smile. You get that, right?"
My fingers shook, my heart ripping open all over again. He wasn't wrong. I'd spent Five years fighting to earn a single glance from her. Sebastian? He didn't have to try. She'd take his poison and thank him for it.
That night, Charlotte came home looking like death warmed over, her face pale as moonlight. I was in the kitchen pouring water when I heard her stumble in.
The glass nearly slipped from my hand.
"You didn't take your meds?" I asked, my voice tight.
"It got bad. Had to get my stomach pumped at the hospital," she said, collapsing onto the couch, her bangs plastered to her forehead with cold sweat.
My hand shook, hot water splashing across my knuckles, leaving a red burn. She loved Sebastian that much?
Enough to eat his food even if it meant a trip to the healer?
I grabbed a glass of warm water and knelt beside her, gently rubbing her stomach. She sipped the water, and as my hands worked to ease her pain, her furrowed brow softened. She slumped against my shoulder, drifting off like she had a hundred times before.
But this time, I didn't linger on the curve of her face or the way her breath steadied against me. I laid her down on the couch, draped a blanket over her, and walked upstairs without looking back.
The next morning, Charlotte was already dressed in a sharp suit, standing in the living room, frowning at the bare spaces where my stuff used to be.
"Why's the house looking so empty?" she asked.
I opened my mouth to explain, but she cut me off. "Sebastian's got an art show today. He invited us."
"I-"
"He just got back to the pack," she said, her tone firm. "He doesn't have many friends here. Come on, let's show some support."
My fingers clenched, but I nodded.
At the gallery, Sebastian lit up when he saw Charlotte, looping his arm through hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Charlotte! You've gotta see this one," he said, pointing to an oil painting of a snow-capped mountain, his voice soft as a whisper. "I painted this in Redmont. I was thinking of you every single day."
Charlotte listened quietly, her eyes fixed on the canvas, unreadable. By the end of the show, she bought every single painting.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
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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."