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Heiress Of His Abyss: Unmasking The Beast

In the mystical realm of Werleria, Sylteena Benedict, the "Cursed One," already receiving the worst side of life, is forced into a marriage with the enigmatic Prince Anthony — One who bears a dark secret that is the root of his ruthlessness. As she navigates the treacherous landscape of court politics and ancient magic, Sylteena discovers a beast in the forest who challenges everything she thought she knew about love and loyalty. Torn between the ruthless prince and the mysterious creature, Sylteena must choose her path and confront the true nature of her heart's desire. - "Where humanity and beasthood blur, love becomes a perilous puzzle." - "A tale of forbidden love, ancient secrets, and the true meaning of monstrosity." Extract: Anthony's hands closed around Sylteena's wrists, chaining her to the headboard. His intense gaze pierced at her as he whispered, "Escape is impossible, little one." His lips claimed hers in a possessive kiss, sending shivers down her spine. Her body was already too weak to struggle. • • • Despite his inhumane features, no one had ever handled her more delicately then a petal. As their kiss deepened, Sylteena's heart fluttered with a sense of longing and affection. She pressed against the soft cushion of the bed, feeling the powerful beat of his heart, matching her racing pulse. In that moment, she knew she was where she belonged, in the embrace of the one who had captured her heart — in the embrace of a real beast.
DestinyNdi · 7.5K Views

Sanguine Mythmaker

Alaric Ashford considers himself an author. Relentlessly bullied and tormented throughout his youth by both schoolchildren and his cold, semi-abusive parents, he retreated into a lonely, reclusive existence, his small world shrinking with every year. Once labeled a "gifted kid," Alaric developed a warped sense of self—a mixture of arrogance and deep self-loathing—believing he’s destined for greatness, even as he despises the bleak reality of his life. His parents' deaths were orchestrated by hitmen, hired by a psychopathic bully from his past, someone who took pleasure in toying with him like a predator stalking its prey. After their murder, Alaric dropped out of college and now spends his days shut inside a dim, cluttered apartment. His life is a cycle of inactivity, filled with nothing but endless procrastination and the dwindling cushion of his inheritance. Alaric convinces himself that success will come eventually without effort—after all, hasn't he suffered enough to earn it by now? But when the universe is suddenly integrated into the vast and mysterious multiverse, and an omnipotent system begins to reshape reality itself, Alaric is forced onto a new path. This unprecedented event could push him to finally take action, to break out of his isolation and connect with others. Or, just as likely, his arrogance and disconnection from reality could lead him toward a swift and inevitable ruin. One thing is clear: Alaric will forge his own story, crafting his own myths and legends—no matter the cost in human lives—as he steps into the role of a Sanguine Mythmaker.
SP_Aurora · 2.8K Views

Little Mischief

Kara had finished her second glass of wine by the time she'd explained everything and her eyelids seemed to be getting heavy. Her head had been resting on my shoulder while she had been recounting the events of the night before and she seemed in desperate need of sleep, so I helped her get in position on the sofa; laid her head on a nice cushion and she fell asleep quickly. I slipped into my bedroom and got changed into a little red dress that loosely fell to mid-thigh, and quietly watched the TV, although most of the time I stared at Kara. She looked so gorgeous, so vulnerable, and I couldn't help stroking my inner thigh as I watched her sleep. I wanted her now more than ever, to feel her lips on mine again and have her body pressed against mine, but in a far more intimate way than the night before. Her knees were bent towards her chest revealing a generous amount of thigh to me, I'd hardly noticed the blue skirt when she'd arrived because of the outpouring of emotion but now I could have a proper look at her smooth legs. Even though I could see quite a bit of her outer thigh I wanted to see more. My hand had found its way under my dress and was stroking my own smooth skin as I lusted after hers. I needed to get a better look and tried moving around on my chair, like a horny sixteen-year-old boy trying to look up a girl's skirt. Instead, I'm a horny nineteen-year-old girl trying to look up a girl's skirt which is totally different, right?.... Right?
Incubus_Tarv3n · 17.7K Views
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