
Fated to the don
Alicia needed money. Three days before eviction, she walked into an underground auction believing she would walk out free. Instead, she was sold to the most powerful man in the city.
Dmitri Hunt is a mafia don feared by humans and an Alpha feared by wolves. He claims her, controls her, and hides secrets that could destroy her life.
Alicia must choose between running from her fate or standing beside the man who may have planned everything from the start...
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Chapter 4
Alicia's POV
The moment his mouth crashed onto mine, my brain short-circuited. A screaming protest died in my throat, smothered by the startling heat of his kiss.
My hands which had been braced against his chest to shove him away betrayed me completely. Instead of pushing, my fingers curled into the soft expensive fabric of his shirt, holding on for dear life.
What are you doing, you idiot? Push him! my mind shrieked but my body had a different set of instructions.
A traitorous moan vibrated in my chest as his tongue explored my mouth, tasting of mint and something darkly intoxicating.
His hands which had been so cold and businesslike hours ago were now setting my skin on fire. One slid down my back, pressing me flush against him while the other cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the nightgown. A jolt of pure pleasure shot straight to my core.
I tried to pull back, to break the spell.
"Stop... we shouldn't..." My voice was a weak breathy whisper that sounded nothing like me.
Dmitri pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes gleaming with knowing amusement.
"Your body says otherwise, kitten." he murmured with his voice in a low rumble. "It's begging. Stop pretending."
Before I could muster a real argument, his mouth was on my neck and all coherent thought vanished. He walked me backward until my knees hit the edge of the ridiculously large bed and I tumbled onto the sheets. He followed me down like a predator finally claiming his prize.
He kissed a blazing trail down my body, pushing the nightgown up as he went. When his mouth closed over one sensitive pebbled nipple, I cried out, my back arching off the bed. It was too much. It was not enough. My hands flew to his hair not to pull him away but to hold him right there.
"God..." I gasped.
He just chuckled against my skin, the vibration doing wicked things to me.
"Not God. Just Dmitri."
He continued his journey south, kissing and licking his way past my navel, over my trembling stomach until he reached the waistband of my panties.
He hooked his fingers into them and in one swift move, they were gone. I was completely exposed to him and instead of fear, a hot shocking wave of anticipation swept through me.. then his mouth was on me and I literally saw stars.
My entire world narrowed to the point where his tongue was making lazy devastating circles against my clit. I'd been eaten out before, sure. But this? This was like comparing a campfire to a volcanic eruption.
A broken keening sound escaped my lips and my hips lifted off the bed of their own accord, seeking more pressure, more friction, more him!
"Please..." I wasn't even sure what I was begging for. More? Don't stop? I'd lost all control.
He slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right and I shattered as my orgasm ripped through me so violently I thought I might break apart. I was gasping, my legs shaking, my fingers tangled in his dark hair holding him to me as I rode out the waves of pleasure.
When the last tremor subsided he looked up at me, his chin glistening. My face flushed with embarrassment and residual ecstasy.
"Should I stop?" he asked with his voice sounding husky. The arrogant confidence was still there but it was layered with something else... raw hunger.
I couldn't speak. I couldn't form words. All I could do was look at him, my chest heaving and give a tiny almost imperceptible shake of my head. No. Don't stop.
He understood. With a dark satisfied smile, he surged up and stripped off his clothes. My eyes went wide.
Oh. Wow. I'd heard descriptions like 'well-endowed' before, but this was something else entirely. His dick was... monumental.. thick, long, and rock-hard. A fresh thrill of nervous excitement shot through me.
He tugged my nightgown off over my head, leaving us both naked. He positioned himself between my legs and I held my breath. He teased me, rubbing the broad head of his cock through my wet pussy making me whimper with need.
"Please." I whispered again, this time knowing exactly what I wanted.
He pushed in just the tip, stretching me exquisitely rhen with a slow controlled thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
I cried out in a sharp sound that melted into a long low moan. He filled me completely, every inch of him. He started to move in a deep rhythmic pace that had me seeing stars all over again.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his thrusts and the room was filled with the sound of our skin slapping together, my ragged moans and his low grunts.
"Right there... oh God, right there." I chanted, completely lost to the sensation.
I felt the coil of another orgasm tightening deep inside me, building faster and hotter than before. This one felt different, bigger, more overwhelming.
When it broke, I screamed his name as pleasure detonated through every nerve ending. My body convulsed and a warm gush of squirt soaked the sheets between us. I was dimly aware of my legs trembling violently against his sides.
Before I could even come down from the high, he flipped me over onto my stomach, pulling my hips up so my ass was in the air and he entered me from behind, his thrusts becoming harder, more possessive.
The sound of his hand connecting with my ass was loud in the room followed by a sting that morphed into a deep throbbing heat that only made the friction inside me more intense.
"Yes!" I heard myself sob, pushing back against him, completely mindless.
His pace became frantic and I felt my own climax building again impossibly matching his rhythm. He groaned my name as his dick pulsed deep inside me. We came together, collapsing in a sweaty breathless heap on the cum soaked sheets.
We lay there for what felt like an eternity, the only sound our ragged breathing. My mind was utterly blissfully blank. Then, without a word, he slid out of me and got up.
I heard his footsteps pad across the room followed by the sound of a glass panel sliding open. A cool breeze washed over my heated skin. He'd gone out onto the balcony.
The silence he left behind was deafening. Guilt came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks.
What did you just do, Alicia? my brain yelled, finally back online. You just let the head of the Velvet Mafia, a man who probably murders people before breakfast, give you the best orgasms of your life. You didn't just let him. You begged for it. You enjoyed it!
I curled into a ball, horrified at myself. I was a prisoner, a possession! And I'd moaned like a wanton harlot for my captor. This was so messed up!
I was just starting to spiral into a full-blown panic of self-loathing when I heard it.
A low, strained groan from the balcony.
I froze. What was that? It didn't sound like a satisfied sigh. It sounded... pained.
The groaning continued, mixed with a weird ragged breathing and a soft cracking sound.
My heart started to thud again but this time with fear, not pleasure. Was he okay? Was he... masturbating? Was one round with me not enough for him?
Cautiously, I sat up. I pulled the robe from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around myself, tying the belt with trembling fingers. The groaning got louder, more strained. It was a horrible almost animalistic sound.
Tiptoeing across the room, I approached the open glass door. The balcony was dark, shrouded in shadow. I could just make out his silhouette leaning heavily against the railing, his back to me, his shoulders hunched.
"D-Dmitri?" I whispered with my voice shaky.
He didn't answer. Another gut-wrenching groan escaped him, followed by that same cracking popping sound like someone stepping on dry twigs.
My fear evaporated, replaced by a sudden stupid wave of concern. Maybe he was having a heart attack! Maybe he was sick!
I slid the glass door open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the cool balcony tiles.
"Hey, are you al..."
The words died in my throat followed by a piercing and terrifying scream...
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8.0
My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne.
I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard.
But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power.
I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home?
"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me.
I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk.
"I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."

7.3
TRIGGER WARNING
This book is STRICTLY EROTICA. It contains graphic sexual content, taboo themes, age gaps, and explicit scenarios intended for mature audiences only (18+).
If you are underage or easily disturbed by mature, forbidden, or extreme content, do not read this book.
About the Collection
This is not romance. There are no fade-to-black moments.
Every word drips with heat, sin, and raw pounding desire. Between these pages, you'll find stories that push boundaries and explore the forbidden-age gap temptation, reckless taboos, and sinful encounters.
And when you think you can't take more, a bonus awaits you at the end-an exclusive MILF , BDSM series written to make you horny instantly.
If you came here for the hottest, most descriptive, most unapologetic erotica.
You're in the right place.
Are you ready to sin?
Don't touch yourself too much🤭

8.4
I was tightening my husband’s tie for the photographers at the gala when my phone buzzed against my thigh.
A single notification stopped my heart dead.
Julius had just wired five million dollars—capital I had secretly stolen from my father to build his company—to an account named 'K. Drake'.
When I confronted him later that night, he didn't apologize. Instead, he lured me to an empty warehouse and detonated a rigged gas line.
I woke up in a hospital bed, my body broken and my mind racing.
Julius stood over me, checking his watch, looking terrifyingly calm.
"The baby is gone," he said dismissively, referring to the pregnancy I hadn't even told him about yet. "But Kenzie needs a bone marrow transplant. You're a match."
He was holding our daughter, Ava, hostage. He told me if I didn't give his mistress my marrow, I’d never see my child again.
He looked at me with total contempt. To him, I was just a boring, civilian housewife. A prop he had used and was now ready to discard.
He had no idea who I really was.
He didn't know that the "bank loans" I secured for him were actually laundered syndicate money.
He didn't know that the father I "didn't talk to" was Horacio Horton, the most feared Don on the East Coast.
I let them take the marrow. I let them believe they had broken me.
Then, as soon as Julius left the room, I reached for the phone and dialed a number I hadn't used in ten years.
"Papa," I whispered into the receiver. "Send the army."
The civilian Florence died in that bed.
The Mob Princess had just returned to take her throne.

9.1
Alyssa wanted just one thing in life, to be loved by her family and her mate but after a near-death experience, she realized they don't care about her and they never will. Her family disowned her and banished her from the pack, her mate rejected her and mated with her sister who set her up and almost got her killed.
"They hate me for no reason! They don't want me and now I am going to show them! I am going to make them regret ever being mean to me."
Determined to make those who hate and want her dead pay, she goes on a journey of self-discovery with the help of Jace Carter, a powerful alpha who at first just wanted to use Alyssa to get revenge on the Dark Blood pack for what they did to his sister but found himself drawn to her.
"Be my Luna and I will stand by you and make those who hurt you pay."
His offer was too tempting for Alyssa to say no even though she knew better than to trust Jace especially because of the feud that started between their packs after one of her brothers hurt his sister.
"The enemy of my enemies is my friend,"
Alyssa is determined and nothing can stop her. With the power that comes with being Luna of the Wildheart pack, her full potential is finally unleashed! Healer? Seer? Mind reader? She got powers that she didn't even know of and one by one, she discovers them.
Now her family and pack want her. "Alyssa, you are a member of this pack, you have to come back to the Dark Blood pack."
Too late...

9.7
I survived a plane crash that should have killed me.
Now I heal overnight, hear thoughts that aren't mine, and have four Primal men who swear I'm their fated mate.
A wolf who found me first. A bear with a haunted past. A cat who moves like shadow. A prince who wants to own me.
They don't know what I really am.
The sole survivor of a forbidden experiment. Created in a lab. Designed to be compatible with every Primal species.
The Council wants me dead. The Resistance wants me captured.
They made one mistake.
They made me stronger than all of them.
I will find who killed Cole Ashford. I will protect my unborn child. I will tear apart anyone who stands in my way.
Four men stand at my back. Four hearts beat for me alone.
But the Silent Claw is watching.
And they know something I don't.

9.0
I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi.
I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet.
The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress.
Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet.
The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly.
I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world.
Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked.
He chose to sacrifice me to save face.
"Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves."
He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress.
He thought he was showing strength.
He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors.
Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers."
"And send the wolves."