Two hot Alphas bet on the biker-widow mate
Her back arched as Gabriel's fingers tightened around her waist, holding her steady while Paxton's mouth moved lower, his breath hot against her inner thigh.
"You don't get to run from this," Gabriel growled against her throat, his voice like silk over steel. "Not from us."
Carlotta moaned, helpless between their bodies. Gabriel was behind her, his hand tangled in her hair, lips claiming the curve of her neck. His hardness pressed against her from behind while Paxton knelt in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs like he owned them. Like he owned her.
"I never said I wanted to run," she breathed, lost in the pull of them both.
Paxton smirked, his lips glistening. "Then let us wreck you."
And they did.
Gabriel entered her from behind with a rough, punishing thrust, forcing a cry from her lips that was swallowed by Paxton's kiss. She was sandwiched between them. Gabriel's deep, commanding rhythm; Paxton's slow, sinful teasing as his mouth roamed down her chest, taking his time with her breasts.
The heat built fast. Her body trembled with each movement, the slick slide of skin on skin, their grunts, her gasps. Her fingers clawed at Paxton's chest while Gabriel gripped her hips tighter, his voice a snarl against her skin.
"You like being ruined by both of us?" Gabriel asked.
"She loves it," Paxton answered for her, licking a line up her stomach. "Don't you, baby?"
Carlotta couldn't speak. Her climax crashed through her like a lightning strike, sharp, explosive, raw. Her moan echoed in the room, vibrating against Paxton's lips, as Gabriel cursed and followed right after her.
For a moment, everything stilled. Their bodies tangled. Their heartbeats synced.
Then...
She gasped awake.
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Chapter 4
I adjusted my backpack straps for the tenth time as I walked into the classroom, my palms sweating despite the cool morning air. The room was already half full of students chatting and laughing, their voices creating a buzz that made my head spin.
Just find a seat and keep your head down, I told myself, scanning the rows of desks.
That's when I spotted them. Three girls sitting in the back corner, perfectly styled hair catching the fluorescent light, designer bags placed strategically on their desks like territorial markers. Even from across the room, I could feel their eyes on me, sizing me up like predators watching prey.
I quickly chose a seat in the middle of the room, hoping to blend into the crowd of other students. But as I pulled out my notebook, I heard the unmistakable sound of chairs scraping against the floor behind me.
Well, well, what do we have here?" The voice was saccharine sweet with an edge that made my skin crawl.
I turned around to see the three girls approaching, led by a blonde with perfectly applied makeup and cold blue eyes. The other two flanked her like bodyguards - a redhead with a smirk that never left her face, and a brunette who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else but was too scared to leave.
I'm sorry?" I said quietly, hoping they'd lose interest and move on.
Oh, she's polite," the redhead said with mock delight. "How refreshing.
The blonde leaned against the desk next to mine, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the surface. "I'm Madison. These are my friends, Harper and Jess. And you are?"
Carlotta," I answered, turning back toward the front of the classroom.
Carlotta," Madison repeated, drawing out each syllable like she was tasting something unpleasant. "That's... unusual. Foreign, isn't it?
It's Italian," I said simply, keeping my voice level.
How exotic," Harper chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me guess - your family runs a little pizza shop somewhere?
A few students nearby turned to look at us, some smiling at Harper's comment. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I forced myself to stay calm.
No," I said quietly. "They don't.
Ooh, touchy subject," Madison cooed. "What's wrong, princess? Not proud of your heritage?
Don't engage, I told myself. Just ignore them and they'll get bored.
But they didn't get bored. Instead, Madison moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that only I could hear.
You know, we've heard some interesting things about you, Carlotta. About your... previous living arrangements.
My blood ran cold. They knew. Somehow, they knew about Dante.
I don't know what you're talking about," I said, my voice barely audible.
Sure you don't," Harper said with a cruel laugh. "Come on, girls. Let's help our new friend feel more... welcome.
Before I could react, Madison grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly to my feet. The brunette, Jess, moved to block my path while Harper took my other arm.
Let me go," I said firmly, but my voice shook despite my efforts to stay calm.
Let me go," Harper mimicked in a high-pitched whine, causing Madison to burst into laughter.
Please," I said, looking around the classroom desperately. "Just leave me alone.
Other students were watching now, some with amused expressions, others looking uncomfortable but unwilling to intervene. The familiar feeling of helplessness washed over me, the same sensation I'd felt so many times in Dante's house when no one would help me.
Aww, look at her," Madison said loudly enough for half the class to hear. "She thinks someone's going to come to her rescue.
Nobody's coming, sweetheart," Harper added with mock sympathy. "You're at the bottom of the food chain here, just like everywhere else.
The bottom of the chain. The words hit me like a physical blow. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be powerless, to be at the mercy of people who enjoyed causing pain. For two years with Dante, I'd been trapped, but at least I'd known my place. Here, I was starting over, and they were already trying to put me back where they thought I belonged.
Please," I whispered again, hating how weak I sounded. "I just want to go to class.
And we're just trying to be friendly," Madison said, tightening her grip on my arm. "Isn't that right, girls?
Super friendly," Harper agreed, her nails digging into my other arm.
Jess shifted uncomfortably but didn't let go. "Maybe we should—"
Should what?" Madison snapped at her. "Sit down and mind your own business?
The classroom had gone quieter now, with most conversations dying down as students sensed the tension. I could feel dozens of eyes on us, but no one moved to help. Some even had their phones out, probably hoping to catch something worth posting online.
This is my life now, I thought desperately. Even here, even trying to start fresh, I'm still just someone to be pushed around.
You know what I think, Carlotta?" Madison leaned closer, her breath hot against my ear. "I think you're used to this kind of treatment. I think you actually like being told what to do.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my whole body trembling with a mixture of fear and rage. Every instinct screamed at me to fight back, to show them that I wasn't as weak as they thought. But what was the point? Fighting would just make things worse, just like it always had.
Nothing to say?" Harper taunted. "Cat got your tongue?
Maybe she's just trying to figure out which one of us she wants to be friends with first," Madison added with a cruel smile.
I bet she'll do our homework if we ask nicely," Harper suggested, and both she and Madison burst into laughter.
Just then, the classroom door opened with a sharp bang that made everyone jump. A tall man in a rumpled suit walked in, carrying a briefcase and a stack of papers that looked like they might topple over at any moment.
Good morning, everyone," the professor called out, his voice carrying easily across the room. "Please take your seats. We have a lot to cover today.
Madison immediately released my arm, her sweet smile snapping back into place like she'd flipped a switch. "See you around, Carlotta," she whispered, but there was nothing friendly about her tone.
Harper gave my arm one final squeeze that would definitely leave a bruise. "This isn't over, new girl."
We'll be keeping an eye on you," Jess added quietly, almost apologetically, before following the other two back to their corner.
I sank into my seat, my legs shaky with relief and leftover adrenaline. The professor was already writing equations on the whiteboard, completely oblivious to what had just happened.
I said take your seats, ladies," he called toward the back without turning around.
Sorry, Professor Williams," Madison called back sweetly. "We were just helping the new student find her way around.
My stomach churned at the lie, but I didn't dare contradict her. Instead, I opened my notebook with trembling hands and tried to focus on the lesson, even though the words on the board blurred together through my unshed tears.
One day down, I told myself. Just get through one day at a time.
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7.8
Alpha Varos, the beast they chained and bound in the darkest cell deep under the Haralth tower for a century,
Calyra Veyne the woman they never meant to awaken him.
Calyra the daughter of the Tidecliffs' Alpha, was presented to marry the usurper High King, Alpha Therion. To strengthen her father's pack. But when her cursed flame was revealed - a mark lowlier than even an omega wolf- she was rejected, humiliated, her mother killed, pronounced as a sex slave and she was thrown into the cell of the brutal, silent beast.. A man locked away from the world from over a century, the most powerful Alpha King in history, but her scent calls to what's left of his soul.
A ruthless Alpha, An unquenchable sexual heat.
Fated and Chained to the Beastly Alpha King is the dark romance you'll never recover from.
7.2
She was collateral. A silent bride in a five-billion-dollar deal, bound by a contract that stripped her of her name and her voice. He was Austin Walton. A ruthless billionaire who viewed his new wife not as a partner, but as an asset with a depreciating value.
His plan was simple: use her to secure his empire, then discard her.
Her plan was simpler: survive him.
But on their wedding night, something changes. The terrified girl he expected is replaced by a woman with cold fire in her eyes, a woman who can do the math faster than his analysts and anticipate his enemies' moves before they happen. She dismantles her own family's treachery from the inside out, turning his wedding into a corporate battlefield where she is the undisputed victor.
Austin bought a pawn for his chessboard. He's about to discover he married his queen. And in this game of power, the only rule is winner takes all.
7.4
Shrouded in tales of pleasure and mystery, embark on a sensual adventure in a Cities of Sins, where the supernatural blends with the mundane in a city shrouded in fantastic tales and debauchery.
Come and discover this city, its inhabitants, and its ancient stories, amidst a tale of pleasure, lust, and tales that reveal the mysterious teachers who hide their secrets.
The question is: Are they really human or vampires?
This is the world where the dead, vampires, and witch tales intertwine in this hidden city full of mysteries from the past, amidst a life full of pleasure and lust.
In the midst of a mundane beginning, the girl was betrayed. Instead of Samantha finding solitude and suffering, she discovered a world of luxury, with her saviors, her teachers of pleasure, fantastic tales, legends of passion, shrouded in the supernatural. They embark on a limitless adventure, with sex, pleasure, and passion, which are always shrouded in fantastic power, in the world of passion and debauchery.
Lovecraft is a city that never sleeps. Built upon ancient ruins and fueled by centuries of secrets, it is known as the City of Sins, where pleasure and danger walk hand in hand. Its narrow streets, illuminated by red lanterns and eternal shadows, are the stage for encounters that defy reason: reclusive vampires hiding in decaying mansions, werewolves roaming under the full moon, witches whispering spells in hidden cafes, and mobsters controlling the underworld with iron fists and passionate hearts.
At the heart of the city, the Lost Canvas-a secret gallery-holds living portraits of forbidden loves and blood pacts. Each painting is a story, each brushstroke a memory of encounters that have marked generations. It is there that the handsome vampire Adrian, reclusive and mysterious, observes the world without ever fully surrendering. His life is a mosaic of interrupted passions, of glances that never turned into words, of promises lost in the night. But Lovecraft doesn't allow anyone to remain invisible for long.
Between the luxurious salons of socialites, the secret clubs of businessmen, and the alleys where supernatural mafias seal their pacts, the city pulsates with stories of desire and magic. Each encounter is brief but intense: a stolen kiss on a Gothic staircase, a forbidden dance in a hall lit by black candles, a whispered conversation on a ghost train that crosses the city at three in the morning. Lovecraft is made of these instants-moments that seem small, but carry the weight of eternities.
The city's inhabitants coexist with the mundane and the supernatural as if they were part of the same fabric. Businessmen negotiate with vampires, artists are inspired by fairies and elves, mobsters share territories with werewolves. It's a metropolis where power is measured not only in money, but also in spells, secrets, and seduction. Terror is subtle, almost elegant, manifesting itself in lingering gazes, in silences that conceal more than they reveal, in pacts that are never written, but always fulfilled.
Is a collection of stories that reveal Lovecraft's strengths: his ability to transform the everyday into magic, to make love a danger, and sin a promise. It is a city of wonders and dreams, of obscure encounters and ardent desires, where every corner holds a story and every shadow is an invitation. Lovecraft is not just a setting-he is a character, a lover and accomplice of all who dare to live in his eternal night.
8.5
My mate, the Alpha, was planning to replace me. He was terrified of the family curse that took his mother in childbirth, and he decided his human lover, Lila, was a safer bet to carry his heir.
The plan was as cruel as it was calculated. He was throwing me a lavish birthday party, not to celebrate me, but to create a public stage for my rejection. He told his most trusted men he would break our sacred bond and install Lila as his new mate right after.
The humiliation was a constant, public execution. He flaunted Lila at every turn, and for a tiny scrape on her hand, he performed a sacred life-force ritual meant only for a dying mate, a blasphemy that horrified our pack. At a formal dinner, Lila announced she was pregnant, and he fled with her when I demanded the rejection he had planned all along.
Later that night, through the agony of our bond, I felt him kiss her. It was a passionate, claiming kiss that finally shattered my heart. He thought I was too gentle to fight back, a willing sacrifice for the good of the pack.
He was wrong. Using his own rage against him, I twisted the rite and severed our bond myself. The next morning, I signed his papers, took none of his blood money, and walked out of his life forever, leaving him to the future he'd built on a bed of lies.
7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.
7.2
I was dying in a rusted warehouse, paralyzed in a wheelchair while the man I loved and my own stepsister watched with smiles on their faces. The air smelled of old oil and damp concrete, and my vision was fading into a milky haze.
Dillon, the man I’d sacrificed everything for, smoothed his custom suit and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear, lethal neurotoxin. Beside him, my stepsister Bianca toyed with my mother’s sapphire ring—the one they’d just pried off my hand while I was too weak to even make a fist.
She leaned in and whispered that my father’s trust fund was already offshore and that they’d sent my husband, Kade, to the wrong coordinates to ensure he’d only find my corpse. Dillon slid the needle into my vein with the chilling efficiency of a man who had done this before.
"This will stop your heart in thirty seconds," he said, sounding as bored as if he were explaining a tax form. Ice flooded my chest, and my lungs seized, fighting for oxygen that wasn't there. As the warehouse lights blurred into white streaks, an explosion echoed in the distance. Kade had come for me, but he was too late.
I died staring at the ceiling, my heart giving one last violent kick of pure, unadulterated hatred. I had been such a fool, believing Dillon’s lies and running away from the only man who actually cared for me. I died with a single thought: if I ever get another chance, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Then, there was nothing. And then, there was air.
I sat up gasping, my silk pajamas drenched in cold sweat. The rusted beams were gone, replaced by a vaulted ceiling and the glittering Manhattan skyline. I grabbed the digital clock on the nightstand—it was five years ago, the exact night I first tried to run away with Dillon.
The bedroom door slammed against the wall, and Kade Mullen stood in the doorway, looking dangerous, furious, and very much alive. I looked at my shaking hands, then at the man I had once hated. This time, I wasn't going to run. I was going to make sure Dillon and Bianca lost everything.