How Many Chapters Are In One Shot Rising?

"Rip my ass apart, Daddy! Fuck the shit out of me! God, yes!" "So fucking tight, Jenny. No matter how many times I fuck your ass, it's always like the first time... Are you being good for daddy? Keeping other dicks out of this perfect ass?" "Yes, Daddy. Only yours," she moaned... ### Plunge into a filthy taboo erotica collection where daddies (step daddies, daddies-in-law, and other forbidden fruit) crave and claim their teasing little girls in raw, boundary shattering steamy shorts. Loaded with intense dirty talk, dubious consent edges, high risk exposure thrills, possessive breeding kinks, degradation and humiliation, and scorching incest. Please take care of your mental health. It gets dark and twisted in here... ### A conflicted step daddy wrecks his stepdaughter's holes on his marital bed while his wife lurks nearby. A blind step daughter is tricked into fucking daddy. A daddy fucks his step daughter on her wedding day... to his son. Billionaire daddies. Don daddies. A daddy that fucks his son's girlfriend... in front of his son. ### Indulge in these and other dark fantasies with twist endings that will stay with you. She begs for daddy's brutal cock. He can't stop stretching his filthy little girl. ***All characters are over 18. Explicit content ahead. 18+ only. Reader discretion is advised.

***************Read With Holy Water, A Priest, And Your Ancestors On Speed Dial From Chapter 40.⚠️****************************************************************** Twenty years ago, three Alpha Kings slaughtered my entire Omega clan. My parents were among the dead, along with my twin brother. But the Moon Goddess had other plans. She cursed their unborn sons, binding all three to a single fated mate they must claim before their twentieth birthday. Or die. I am that mate. And I came here for revenge. Rhydian rejected me the moment the bond surfaced. Yet he cannot seem to stay away. Tavian believes he is always one step ahead. He has no idea I am the one guiding the game. Astarian offers a kindness so genuine it unsettles me more than either of them. I am the last son of Kaida, leader of the slaughtered Omega clan. I can shapeshift, bend wills, and bring three Alpha heirs to their knees without ever drawing a blade. My revenge was perfectly planned. Until the mate bond changed everything. Because the closer I get to destroying their fathers, the harder it becomes to ignore what I feel for their sons. Now vengeance, destiny, and loyalty are on a collision course—and only one can survive. *****Dark revenge themes. Violent battles. Dangerous secrets. Three Alpha heirs who will keep you turning pages. And an Omega determined to bring an empire to its knees.*****

In a world where the moon shattered and the strong devoured the weak, Neoma Solstice is nothing. A scentless Null. A ghost. A mistake. Until the day she saves a dying Lycan warrior with a touch, and her secret is revealed: she's Void-Born, the rarest mutation in existence. The same power that makes her invisible makes her invaluable—a living weapon that can cure the incurable Feral Rot plaguing the Lycan Ascendancy. Captured and collared, Neoma is forced to serve as "Tether" to Unit Vanguard: four elite soldiers on the brink of madness. Barzil, the ruthless Commander who sees her as a mission. Wolfy, the cold Tactician who sees her as a puzzle. Viggo, the feral Berserker who sees her as salvation. Guller, the fallen Priest who sees her as redemption. They own her contract. They control her life. They swear she's just a tool. But tools don't make their masters kneel. As Neoma's power grows, so does the threat she poses to the regime that enslaved her. When the prophesied Blood Moon rises, she'll have to choose: remain the Ascendancy's battery, or become the Void that devours them whole. Some bonds are forged in blood. Some in magic. Theirs was forged in desperation—and it might be the only thing strong enough to save a dying world. The Obsidian Covenant is a dark dystopian reverse harem romance featuring a morally gray FMC, four obsessive MLs, found family dynamics, enemies-to-lovers, rejected mate redemption, and a slow-burn that explodes into high heat. Perfect for fans of The Cruel Prince meets Den of Vipers in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. No choosing. No apologies. No mercy.

The end of the world was upon us, but there weren't enough spots for evacuation. The roars of the zombies echoed in my ears as my fiancé, Oliver, gritted his teeth and pulled me onto the rescue vehicle—securing the last available seat. I arrived safely at the survivor base. Lina, his first love, did not. The zombies tore her apart. Oliver still went through with our marriage, but I never expected that he had only done so to make me suffer. In his eyes, I was the one who had killed Lina. If she had to endure such agony, then I should, too. For five years, he hated me. My life was worse than that of a stray dog scavenging for food on the street. On the day my divorce was finalized, he kidnapped me, dragged me into the wilderness, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. Then, he threw us both into the swarm of the undead. When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow reborn on the day the apocalypse began. The rescue team was shouting impatiently, "One more! We have room for one more—hurry!" I turned to Oliver, watching his hesitation. Then, with a quiet smile, I took a step back and let someone else have the last seat.

He rejected her in front of the entire pack. Cold. Final. Unforgiving. “I will marry another woman. You can leave.” Everyone expected her to break. Instead, she asked for one last month as his wife. He thought it was love. It wasn’t. Because she wasn’t staying to win him back. She was staying to survive the consequences of being his mate… and the secret growing inside her. But something strange began to happen during that one month. The colder he acted in public, the more unstable he became in private. Touches he shouldn’t want. Dreams he couldn’t explain. A possessiveness he kept denying. And a bond he refused to acknowledge. When the month ended, she disappeared without a trace. Five years later, she returned with a child she had hidden from the world… and a new identity she would kill to protect. But the Alpha who once discarded her was no longer the same man. Now, he was the danger she had been running from all along. And this time… he wasn’t letting her go. Even if she belonged to someone else.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.