She Died

At the moment, my dick was gracefully ready start working with her pussy, she felt a little be shy, but when I rubbed onto her and dipped two fingers in it, my shyness was replaced with intense pleasure, fuck it felt too good to ignore. “Ahhh,” she moaned, as i slipped the third finger into her pussy. “I will ensure you come for me six times before calling it a day,” I said, huskily. came to my front, while he kept fingering her pussy, mercilessly. I forcefully pushed my hard cock into her mouth, till it touched the back of my throat. “Suck it,” i instructed and without thinking, she started sucking my cock, while I fingered from behind. The pleasure was intense, her legs began to shake, and she couldn't suck any further, she just wanted to moan, but my cock prevented her. When i noticed she couldn't suck my cock any further, I started fucking her mouth, while my fingers fucked her asshole. “You have a fucking nice ass, and I would enjoy fucking it,” I grunted, pressing his fingers in my pussy. Soon, she was coming all over the place, and my eyes had already rolled back, but that didn't make me stop fingering or mouth fucking me. I fucked her mouth till my come fills them. “Drink it,” I instructed and in one swallow my cum was down her throat and to be honest…. She want more? As she shakes with pleasure, her moan turns deep, and she whispers, “She wants more”—a need that will break everything apart. will this forbidden ecstasy unravel their secrets or seal their fate?

Diane was the daughter of pack hunters. Her world shattered the night she walked in on her five-month boyfriend and chosen mate in bed with her best friend. He wasn't remorseful and accused her of being the cause. Heartbroken and humiliated, she ran to the one place where the pain might disappear — a nightclub. She got drunk and had a one night stand with a stranger. It was supposed to be one night with no names shared and no consequences. Until the new semester began — and that same stranger walked into her classroom, no longer just a man from her past, but her math teacher. Leo is more than he appears. He is the vampire Prince in disguise and he's come to the Red Moon Pack territory on a mission of revenge — to destroy the wolves who murdered his mother. Vampires and Werewolves are grave enemies so he was supposed to hate Diane and even kill her to protect his identity. But Instead, she became his everything. Fated mates. It was a Forbidden love but it was too late. She was pregnant for him. Diane must choose between her heart and her pack.

My wife cheated on me—with my cousin. The three of us were headed to sign divorce papers when bam—car crash. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we got our marriage license. This time, no fights, no drama. We both knew it was over. She ditched me for Jason fast and skipped the country with him. I stayed behind, buried in law books and case files. Five years later, she was famous—thanks to Jason pulling strings. Concerts, cash, fans screaming her name. Me? Still grinding at a law firm, backing folks who needed real legal help. Then came the family reunion. She showed up on Jason's arm, smug and shining, throwing shade like it was sport. But when I mentioned I was settling down with someone else? Her face snapped. "I made one dumb mistake! How DARE you move on?!"

My mate, Alpha Ryan, started skipping my healer's appointments after I got pregnant. He always blamed pack business. But I found him at the clinic anyway. He was with another pregnant she-wolf—his childhood friend, Bonnie. He held her with a tenderness he no longer gave me. "I'll take responsibility for this child," he promised her. "He'll be safe." His words shattered my world. Their child? I stormed in to confront them and saw it: his temporary mark on her neck. He swore the pup wasn't his. He claimed a rogue attacked her and the mark was only for protection. His lie was a knife twisting in our mate bond. I was carrying his pure-blooded heir. But he let the pack brand my child a bastard, while hailing her half-blood pup as his true heir. To protect Bonnie, he locked me in a silver-laced cell. The silver was a living death. He didn't realize his mistake until I took the forbidden herbs, sacrificing our child and collapsing in a pool of my own blood. Only then did he cradle my broken body, begging for a forgiveness I would never give.

I've had a crush on my fiancée for years, and we're finally about to get married. Yet I'm willing to jump off a building just to avoid marrying her—all because I've been reborn. In my past life, she and I were married for over two decades. We were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. However, the fairy tale came to an abrupt end on our 25th wedding anniversary. She took her own life, and she did it with her true love. As I kneeled before her grave, I asked, "Did you regret marrying me?" I knew I wouldn't hear her response, so I answered myself. "I regret marrying you." When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before the wedding happens. I decide to run away. This time, I want us to become nothing but estranged acquaintances. To my surprise, she comes to me, looking like she's terminally ill. She says, "I've never regretted marrying you. Whether in this lifetime or the past, you're the only one I've ever wanted to marry."

She was reborn soft, sweet, and touched — surrounded by women who never learned to let go. Evangeline “Eva” Claire Maxwell — Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury — a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves. In a world without magic, desire is its own spell. And love? It’s the most dangerous kind of possession.

While attending a class reunion with my wife, we ran into her old flame—Caelum Zeth. After the gathering, Talia Grant cornered Caelum against a wall. When she found out he had fallen on hard times, she kissed him. "How much do you still owe? Be with me. I'll give you 100 thousand a month. Will that be enough?" I stood quietly at the corner of the street and snapped a photo of their heartfelt reunion before sending it to my lawyer. I also forwarded it to Talia, along with a message, "Since you two are so in love, go ahead and marry him."

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

At one of the exclusive private casino parties, my eyes landed on a diamond tiara. The catch? It was the prize for a high-stakes blackjack game. Luckily, poker happens to be one of my many sins. A girl named Elara—whom I once pitied enough to introduce to Throne, hoping she’d land a job—has now declared she wants the tiara too. Naïve. Probably thought beginner’s luck was a real thing. I figured, fine. Let the cards decide. If I win, I walk away with the tiara. If I lose, I’ll find another way to soothe my pride. Easy enough. Thorne, my ever-watchful husband, leaned in and murmured, “Go easy on her.” I didn’t. I won. Beat the dealer faster than her and won the tiara. That girl cried at the table. Thorne didn’t look impressed for once. He rather seemed... irritated. I thought it was for Elara’s sake. Turns out, it was for mine. A year later, same party, different stakes. The grand prize? My own sex video. While holding Elara in his arms, my husband said to me, voice almost amusing, “Don’t you like winning prizes? Then go on. Win our sex tape back.”