Hell hath no fury like a rejected mate Years ago, my mate rejected me and stole my pack. Instead of licking my wounds, I set that mangy wolf on fire. The Supernatural Council executed me, and my soul went to the deepest punishment pits of Hell. That's until the Demon King offers me an opportunity for freedom. My mate escaped Hell, and only one person knows him well enough to track him down: me. If I can find him and bring him back, they'll move me out of the pit to a place where I can spend my afterlife in peace. Of course, I said yes, and with a fake body and an infusion of magic, I set off into the Living World. Tracking him is easy-our souls are connected, and we attract each other like magnets, but when our eyes lock, I hesitate to betray him. Griff is tall, dark, masterful, and each moment I spend with him reminds me of our bond. The air between us sizzles, and the tension burns hotter than Hellfire. Our souls resonate, and I can't help but fall in love. But he doesn't know I'm the mate who sent him to Hell...
There was a saying in Logris that Hell was the pinnacle of pain.
Whoever penned that phrase was full of bullshit. Sure, Hell was bad. It was loud and hot and filled with endless torment, and I wasn't talking about the demons who supervised the Punishment Pits. The most torturous part of being in Hell was watching painful memories on an endless cycle of repeat.
I sat in my three-foot-wide cell within Tower Thirteen- Thirteen, one of the many mega-stalagmites that made up Pit 666. The rough stone wall raked across my back, even though I was no longer in possession of a body. There was just about enough standing room in my cell to straighten my spine and stretch my legs, but that would mean bending my neck at an uncomfortable angle.
When the imps weren't taking us out for torture, this shit hole was a constant barrage of petty discomfort. Floors that grated against the skin like steel wool, a ceiling of sharp stalactites that crumbled dust in the eyes. The sticky kind that took an eternity to leave. The gritty specks that stuck to
the fingers, so rubbing the eyes made the situation a thousand times worse.
But none of that compared to the worst part of Hell.
I stared out through the entrance-hole. Out into the ghetto of tall structures that stretched up into an endless void of black. Whoever had designed this place made it so one could just about see the other condemned souls staring out, trying to distract themselves from the torment.
It wouldn't be Hell if they allowed us the comfort of seeing them. They taunted us with the knowledge that they were there, but we were condemned to endure our eternal punishments alone... always alone.
One of the rock spikes on the wall dug into my spine. That was another annoying thing about this cell. It never remained the same shape. That's because it had an intelligence of its own and pushed me toward the confined space's only smooth surface:
The memory wall.
The memory wall played out the exact reason a person was condemned to the Punishment Pits. From the bittersweet beginning to the excruciating end. Another sharp stone lodged in my right ass cheek, making me shift to the left. Then rock dust streamed down in a convenient draft that forced me to turn my head in the same direction.
I clenched my teeth. The only way to get some physical comfort was by facing my mistakes. Maybe they wanted me to admit that I was wrong, to repent, to cry, to wail for forgiveness, but I'd be buggered if I excused the actions of that mangy wolf.
The floor shifted, and a tiny stalagmite rose from beneath me and pushed against my asshole.
"Shit." I shifted in my cell, faced the wall, and watched my most painful sequence of memories.
Franklin Gri ths, the most beautiful wolf-shifter who ever lived.
He was more handsome than Burt Reynolds, cooler than the Fonz, and danced better than John Travolta. He was my mate. Yet he had deceived me and broken my heart.
The screen played the day we'd met.
Griff's long, black hair swept backward as though caressed by the wind. Streams of sunlight hit its ends, turning them a vibrant mahogany. On other men, the style might look like the less glamorous one in Charlie's Angels, but on Griff, the style was a perfect frame for his masculine beauty. Perhaps it was the sideburns that ended at his high cheekbones that made him look so manly. They drew the gaze to a pair of kissable, plump lips. The bastard even had a sexy chin dimple.
My breath quickened, and my gaze flicked up to his eyes. They were liquid gold encased in amber. At the time, I wondered if his wolf would look the same.
I had no idea how many years had passed since my arrest, but I'd spent several months in jail before my execution in 1978. Yet watching this memory on the wall made every butterfly in my stomach take flight with a rush of infatuation.
It was impossible to describe the man's animal magnetism in words or even scents. He was the sort of wolf a bitch would be wise to avoid... if she had any sense. The sort
to admire from afar, only to dwell upon when under the covers with a dildo.
I placed a hand on my heart and whimpered.
On the wall, Griff walked to the beat of "Stayin' Alive," catching the attention of everyone. Women wanted him, kids thought he was the disco equivalent of Superman, and men wanted to wring his neck because no female with a pulse could resist his allure.
At the time, I was nineteen-two years from becoming eligible to take over the pack. Dad had been our alpha, but he had died, leaving Mum and my little sister devastated and me as his heir. There hadn't been any time for grief. Our beta, Gerrison, had spent every day training me on how to become the strong alpha to lead our pack into the 1980s.
In the memory, Griff swaggered up to me and grinned, revealing a mouthful of perfect white teeth.
Most wolves wore jeans and leather jackets, but not Griff. He was always impeccably dressed. On that day, he wore a black, three-piece suit with a sky-blue polyester shirt that was unbuttoned to the waistcoat, giving more than a tantalizing glimpse of the luxuriant hair of his prominent pecs. He wore a gold chain with a runic medallion that indicated he worshipped Fenrir, the Norse god of wolves.
At that moment, the world tilted on its axis, and so did the cell. Even though I knew it was a memory replayed to maximize my misery. Even though I knew exactly how things would end, it still didn't stop me from parting my lips to release a moan.
"Cathwulf Aibek?" said a small voice.
My heart somersaulted to the back of my throat, and every molecule of my transparent body tightened with terror. There was only one reason a demon visited our cells, and that was to take us out for exercise. And by exercise, I meant torture.
I squeezed my eyes shut, scratching their surfaces with lids encrusted with grit. "But I already had my punishment." I tried not to let my voice shake, but the effort was futile. "Check your clipboard."
The punishments were another shitty part about Hell. If they were consistent, like a whipping every Friday, a girl might get used to it. Tune out the pain or do something else to become immune. But it was never the same with those red-skinned fuckers.
Sometimes, they would pull out the fingernails. Other times, it was a cat-o-nine-tails. No, not the whip. An actual, honest-to-Hades feline with a grin that stretched beyond its demonic face and ten bony appendages with spikes that shredded the spirit. When I commented on the false advertising, the demons only said the tenth tail was a bonus.
"Cathwulf Aibek." The voice sliced against my back, making me flinch.
"Yes?" I whispered. "Someone wants you."
I turned around, finally meeting crimson eyes that burned with the flames of wrath.
A story of Domination and submission, where breaking the rules of the game is where the fun begins, when Jacqueline crashes a billionaire’s exclusive poker game in order to seduce him into granting a favor to save her sister, but instead finds herself Played by the Master. Jacqueline Bell desperately wants to help her sister out of a jam. But to do that, she has to find a way to talk to billionaire entrepreneur Race Danner, and have him drop the charges against her brother-in-law. She discovers he holds an exclusive poker game once a week and finds a way in. Race Danner is bored with his life, despite his wealth and extreme hobbies. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for, but he’ll know it when he sees it. When Jacqueline Bell walks into his life, he knows she’s it. She wants something from him. And he wants her. A combination made in heaven. In a delicious game of cat and mouse, he will leverage his advantage to lure her into his game. And he fully intends to win. This story has Domination, submission, bondage, punishment, and a lot of other fun things, plus explicit, wild sexual encounters. After all, if you’re going to play, play hard!
Put it in. I'm ready." The sound that came from Kit's throat wasn't compliant, but he fed her without further comment. A dense, smooth and very cold cake melted on her tongue. "Mmm, that one's powerful," Sabrina said. "Chocolate fondant cake. I thought we could make them in bite-size molds so the guests can sample without feeling guilty." "Except that one bite isn't always enough." "Are you greedy?" He nudged against her thigh. "No, but I am selfish," she replied. "What's the difference?" "Greedy grabs. Selfish...savors." Sabrina moved her leg into the pressure, rocking her hips. "I want to savor you," she said. "I've been here for the taking." She was ready to sample every inch of Kit in bite-size gulps. Delaying had only made her more ravenous. "Your chin is covered in chocolate dust." He swiped at it with his thumb. She heard a smacking sound. "Umm. You taste good." "A kiss would taste even better," she purred.
What his billions can't buy… International tycoons Sergio, Alex and Jeremy were best friends in college. Bonded by their shared passion for business—and bedding beautiful women!—they formed The Bachelors’ Club, which had only two goals: 1. Live life to the full. 2. Become billionaires in their own right! But now, with the dotted line signed for the sale of their multibillion-dollar wine empire, there’s one final thing left for each of the bachelors to accomplish—securing a bride! If Sergio Mancini wants something, he only has to snap his fingers to get it. Except for Bella Williams. No matter how much his stunning stepsister once drove him wild with lust, he never allowed himself to have her, believing she was a gold digger like her mother. Now, when Bella calls unexpectedly seeking refuge at their secluded family home by Lake Como, their unfulfilled desire resurfaces. No longer able to resist, Sergio ruthlessly decides it's finally time to quench the fire. But their one night together only inflames their passion—and now he wants more!
To the public, Arabella was Owen's trusty secretary who catered to all his needs and served as the primary blood donor of his beloved, who was in a coma. Behind closed doors, she was Owen's submissive wife. Arabella was quiet and obedient, and she endured every humiliation without a word of protest. Rumored to be a neat freak, Owen had tossed the last woman who had dared to kiss him into the river. Yet he pinned Arabella against the wall and demanded, "Give me a child, and I’ll let you go!" Arabella pushed him away and flashed him a cold smile. "You are not worthy!"
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"
Lucien Gray, the young and powerful head of an international consortium, has always had everything within his reach-wealth, influence, and any woman he desires. But when the unassuming Nina Morrison crosses his path, something unexpected happens. She doesn't fall at his feet, nor does she seem impressed by his status. Her indifference sparks an irresistible challenge in Lucien-a desire to conquer her at all costs. Determined to make Nina his, Lucien's pursuit becomes relentless. But Nina's fiery spirit and refusal to be controlled push Lucien to his limits. With every struggle and defiance, the tension between them grows, threatening to shatter the boundaries Lucien has always maintained. Now Lucien vows to claim her as his own. Will Lucien's obsession break Nina's spirit, or will she force him to confront his deepest vulnerabilities? In a game of power and desire, who will win-and at what cost?
In order to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, Stella entered into a hasty marriage with an ordinary man she had never met before. However, even after becoming husband and wife on paper, they each led separate lives, barely crossing paths. A year later, Stella returned to Seamarsh City, hoping to finally meet her mysterious husband. To her astonishment, he sent her a text message, unexpectedly pleading for a divorce without ever having met her in person. Gritting her teeth, Stella replied, "So be it. Let’s get a divorce!" Following that, Stella made a bold move and joined the Prosperity Group, where she became a public relations officer that worked directly for the company’s CEO, Matthew. The handsome and enigmatic CEO was already bound in matrimony, and was known to be unwaveringly devoted to his wife in private. Unbeknownst to Stella, her mysterious husband was actually her boss, in his alternate identity! Determined to focus on her career, Stella deliberately kept her distance from the CEO, although she couldn't help but notice his deliberate attempts to get close to her. As time went on, her elusive husband had a change of heart. He suddenly refused to proceed with the divorce. When would his alternate identity be uncovered? Amidst a tumultuous blend of deception and profound love, what destiny awaited them?
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"
Eliza Greer was abandoned by her mother, raised in an orphanage, and sold to the Burns family at 19. Even though she marries Mason Burns, the other people in the Burns family look down on her for her poor identity and want to try every way to bully her. Unexpectedly, they all failed. Eliza's hidden identities are gradually revealed in one incident after another, which astonishes everyone.