
Sinful Affairs (MM Erotica collection)
7.1 / 10.0
Share
TOO HOT FOR DAYLIGHT. READ THIS AT NIGHT, LIGHTS OFF. CAUTION.⛔️⚠️‼️
"Daddy, I've made my hole tighter for you. I want you fully immersed inside me." His voice came out soft, reverberating through my ears as he released his tiny legs around my waist, opening them wider.
"Since you've saved me, it couldn't stop twitching for you. And I don't know how long it will keep pulsing for you to be buried inside." He whispered into my right ear, his breath sending a jolt of hotness down my spine.
"Fuck," I growled, rolling my eyes.
His fingers grazed my chin. I moaned. He pulled my head lower and my gaze landed on the prettiest reddish tight hole I've ever seen in my goddamn life.
My Wolf groaned, stirring as heat consumed me.
I slid lower, my face almost in between his legs.
"Yes, Daddy Alpha. I want you." He winced, his nails digging into my biceps.
I dragged my tongue across my lower lip. I inhaled deeply, his scent filling my nostrils and I tightened my tights, feeling a hard bulge between them.
"Daddy, devour me already." His hand grabbed my head, lowered it, pressing my tongue against his clenching hole.
~~~~~
Behind closed doors, rules shatter and hearts unravel.
SINFUL AFFAIRS invites you into a world where desire whispers in the dark and every sin feels like salvation.
Here, men ache for what they shouldn't touch. They love too hard, crave too deeply, and sin too beautifully. Every story is a confession of hunger, heartbreak, and need.
And once you step inside... you'll never want to leave. So, you're welcome to join the kind of sin you'll beg to repeat. Now, if you dare, enter their world and let's see if you can handle the heat.
Sinful Affairs (MM Erotica collection) Chapter 1
ALPHA GREGORY's POV.
The cry cut through the wind like a plea. It was thin, repeated, and fragile.
"Help...please help..."
It lodged itself under my ribs. They were three words pulling at something I had plastered over years ago. My control. Order. And the cold logic of an Alpha who was always on top.
I should have ignored it. I should have let Mateo follow the sound and stayed with the war plans, the maps, and the council that wanted a leader who wasn't weak.
Instead I rose.,
Mateo's ears twitched. He looked at me for a heartbeat before answering the pull in his own way. He shifted into his Wolf form. I watched him in his ash-grey wolf form vanish toward the cliff and the hollow beyond it.
After that, the forest seemed to hold its breath but the voice came again, smaller, as if something in the trees had learned how to sound like pleading.
My Wolf stirred beneath my skin and paced. The scent came after the sound-warm iron, wet earth, and under it a softer, sweeter thing that tightened my chest: fear braided with something untamed.
My legs moved as I ran into the woods. Branches slapped slightly at my face. The forest condensed to my pounding heart and the pull of that scent. As I passed a big tree, I caught a glimpse of her on the right side.
She crouched there like a broken thing, her hands over her head, long hair matted with blood. When I dropped to my knees, she flinched, shrinking inward as if the world would close over her.
I kept my hands open. "Easy," I said. My voice was a low thing I didn't entirely recognize. "I won't hurt you."
She whimpered. The sound was animal and human all at once. She pushed herself upright, her hands trembling, and for one heavy heartbeat, my jaw dropped.
His jaw, his Adam's apple, the way his shoulders fitted beneath skin, corrected me like a slap. He was a man. A wolfless male Omega.
"You?"
I breathed, because sighting him violated the tidy rules I had built around my life. I had sworn out loud, in the hush of the pack's older years that I would never claim again. The last claim had been a blade at my throat; the memory was an ache I hid beneath stone discipline.
But now, looking closely at his body, even in his current state, my knees nearly wobble and my heart skips a bit.
He looked at me with damp lashes, his brown pupils blown wide with panic. "Please...save me." The plea came out thin and ragged, and his body slumped as if the sound had taken the last of his strength.
I caught him before he fell. He was light and jagged in my arms, not the weight of anyone I had known to belong to us. His scent filled my nose-salt and copper and the faint, irresistible tang of something feral I couldn't name.
My Wolf pressed, insistent and ancient, and something in me answered. Not with the fury of a predator, but with the startled tenderness I had thought was gone from me.
My finger ran across his face gently. His skin was soft and almost flawless. My Wolf stirred. I cleared my throat and stopped what I was dragging myself into.
Carrying the Omega in my arms, I walked back to the main field where we were before. And just then, Mateo returned in his human form, breathing heavily. He paused when he saw what was in my arms, his eyes narrowing with concern and calculation.
"We have to take him," he said before thinking, shaking his head.
"And I was thinking not to." I pouted.
"But he's already in your arms. And he looks quite irresistible too." He joked, his eyes on mine.
The walk back to the palace felt short and long at once. The Omega was limp against my chest, his small hands fisted at my shirt. His breath came shallow; each inhale trembled through the fabric against my sternum. Either way, it worked through me like heat.
Inside the palace, the guards parted with the respect a leader required, not the curiosity I secretly invited. But deep inside the palace, there was noise and I saw some guards and maids running around.
"What's going on?" Mateo stopped and asked one of them.
"The left wing caught fire." The maid replied, breathing heavily.
"That means... the infirmary too?" He asked.
"Y-yes. I need to go help the others." She trembled and dashed away.
"Alpha, I need to go help the others before it expands to the other sides of the palace." Mateo said, the urgency of his voice not waiting for approval.
I nodded my head gently.
I was left with the Omega all alone in my arms. There was nowhere I was taking him to than my room. Else, I would drop him at the maid's quarters. After all, he is an Omega.
But, I couldn't just bring myself to do that. Maybe, because of his health?
"Stop lying to yourself. Just take him to your room." My Wolf encouraged me. I knew one day he would push me into a world of fire.
Continue Reading
Sinful Affairs (MM Erotica collection) of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

8.4
Grace, after three years of silence from a crash that stole her voice and family, finally uttered a hoarse syllable. It was her first sound, a breakthrough she desperately wanted to share with Josiah, her childhood protector. Instead, through a slightly ajar door, she heard his careless chuckle, followed by a sharp, entitled voice.
Alexandria's voice sliced through the air: "Josiah, are you really planning to bring that little mute to the banquet? She's a walking trailer park tragedy. It's embarrassing." Grace froze, waiting for Josiah to defend her. He didn't. Instead, he sighed, calling her "a responsibility" and "a lifeless ghost," then pulled Alexandria closer.
The words were serrated blades. Her silent devotion, her self-erasure for his peace, had made her a punchline. He was relieved she was broken. The bitter realization of his betrayal ignited a cold, white-hot fury.
Wiping away tears, Grace met Josiah, feigning her usual submissive smile, and quietly refused his "hush money." As he walked away without a glance, her inner voice was clear, sharp, and resolute: "I'm done playing your game."

9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.

7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.

7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.

9.2
Rebirth with a Twist.
Fawn Jones doesn't get a chance to resolve the issues with her marriage. No, she gets murdered in her own bathtub. Drowned by the husband she hated after he had moved his mistress into their bed, Fawn's last lucid thought is a promise before death. "I will not stay weak. I will make you pay. If not in this life, then the next." Then she wakes up. Different room. Different body. Different life. Cassandra Huntington – rich, infamous, beautiful in a way Fawn never had been. Cassie had been in a coma for six months after a car crash. Her billionaire husband, Blake, had just signed the paperwork to turn off her life support when she suddenly started breathing on her own. Now everyone thinks Fawn is Cassandra. The media calls it a miracle. Blake calls it complicated. The woman wearing his wife's face is softer, sharper, funnier... and so tempting he hates himself for wanting her. Fawn calls it an opportunity for revenge. Her killers are still out there. Her old body is in the ground under a lie. And the only weapons she has now are Cassandra's money, Cassandra's reputation... and Cassandra's husband. So, she plays the role. Learns to walk in six-inch heels. Smiles for the cameras. Seduces a man who once couldn't stand his wife and now can't seem to stay away from her. While she quietly buys into the company that ruined her old life. While she gets close enough to the man who killed her to watch him crack. They drowned the wrong woman. Now she's awake. And she's not done.

7.7
BAD REPUTATION
7.7
It was her hair that fascinated him. The reddish-brown mass was parted high to one side, windswept almost. And then there was her make-up, neutral save for the liner around her eyes and the bold lip colour... was that purple?
His gaze narrowed over it and she must have sensed his attention, her eyes flickering in his direction. "You know, it's rude to stare."
Her voice was husky, a crisp edge that rasped along his spine and sealed her appeal. Derek was hooked. Her eyes were back on the doors, her lack of interest obvious.
He should've taken it as a sign, but since when had he backed off from anything he fancied?











