Collar Drawings Novels & Stories

My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]

In the new world order, humans are nothing but property. Omegas, wolves, and rogues rank higher, leaving humans powerless, destined for collar and chain. She grows up knowing this, but hopes for mercy when her turn comes—a gentle Alpha, a kind Luna, someone who will put her to work but leave her body her own. On the night of her auction, hope dies. She is purchased by Caelan Black, Alpha of the feared Ironfang Pack. Cold, violent, and legendary for his cruelty, Caelan doesn’t buy humans for labor—he buys them for heirs. From the first night, he makes it clear: she is not his mate. She is not his Luna. She is his breeding pet—a body to keep in his bed until she bears his pups. Collared and caged, she fights him, refusing to bend. But Caelan is patient in his cruelty, teaching her submission with hands, mouth, and punishing nights that leave her trembling yet craving more. Soon, her body betrays her. Desire coils through her veins, and in his eyes, she begins to see something more dangerous than lust—possession. When rival Alphas discover Caelan has bonded with a human, they see weakness. They come for her, threatening to steal his breeder and expose him as unfit to rule. Blood is spilled, war ignites, and in the chaos, she realizes the truth: she is no longer just his pet. She is his obsession, his weakness, his ruin. And when the Goddess herself tests their bond, she must decide—remain the breeder he bought her as… or claim her place as the Luna he swore she could never be.

Sweet warning, my darling sinner… These pages are dripping with the kind of temptation that will make your thighs clench and your prayers turn filthy. Once you start reading, you won’t want absolution—you’ll beg for more sin. Reader discretion is strongly advised. In shadowed confessionals and candlelit cathedrals, forbidden desire ignites again and again… She kneels in nothing but a sheer black lace nightdress that barely hides her hardened nipples, wrists bound in leather and silver chains. “Forgive me, Father,” she whispers, voice trembling as the cold rosary beads slip between her slick folds. His deep voice answers from the darkness: “No forgiveness tonight, little lamb… only my cock teaching you how to worship.” Another night, another altar. A different priest’s strong hand slides under her nightdress, fingers circling her swollen clit while his lips brush her ear: “You came here to confess your sins… but your dripping pussy already told me everything.” And in the moonlit sacristy, she’s bent over the holy table, nightdress hiked up, collar tight, as he growls against her neck, “Every time you moan my name, another angel loses its wings… now scream for me, baby girl.” Ten scorching stories. Ten powerful priests. One deliciously wicked collection of priest-sinner BDSM romance that will leave you wet, breathless, and aching to be ruined. Leather. Chains. Rosaries used in ways God never intended. Unholy pleasure has never felt so heavenly. **Indulge. Submit. Sin.** Ready to kneel for every single story? Turn the page… and let them all ruin you.

"Why are you following me?" She asked, turning to fix her blue gaze on mine, causing my heart to become frantic. "Don't just stand there! Speak!" Letting a slow smile spread across my lips, I moved forward and grabbed her hips, pulling her against me. "Because," I began, hitching a finger in the collar of my shirt. "Since the day you put this on me, you've been mine." "T-that's!" She gasped, her eyes growing wide. "But how?" "It doesn't matter." I whispered, finding myself getting lost in the warmth that I hadn't felt in so long. "All that matters is that I've caught you now and you won't ever escape me again. Sequel to The Rogue She-Wolf's Professor Two years had past since the tragedy of that night. Two long years with no answers and no clues as to the whereabouts of those responsible or his missing mate. With each passing moment, he felt as though all hope was being lost. That is, of course, until he suddenly finds himself standing face-to-face with the woman he searched so long for and it turns out she too is looking for the ones he seeks. Though Marissa is back, she is completely different. Her humanity is slowly slipping as she fights to remain in control. The rogue deep within her is itching to escape and if it manages to succeed all hope will be lost forever. Together, Travis and Marissa must work to rebuild the pieces of their lives that have been lost thanks to those determined to ruin them. Will they be able to succeed or will they end up losing everything? Read to find out!

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

"You taste of another wolf's territory, Draven. Wash his scent from your skin, or do not dare demand my submission tonight." For three agonizing winters, omega wolf Lardon Vexley played the flawless, hidden lodge master to the brutal Alpha-Prime, Draven Calder. He endured the pack's cruelty, silenced his own roar, and sacrificed his elite status as a Skyfang Rift Engineering scholar—all to secure a secret mating bond with a beast who treats him like a glorified kennel keeper. But when Draven ignites the sacred crest flares for his high-born lover, Mireya Duskrell, Lardon realizes his silent devotion has earned him nothing but a broken pack-vow and a terminal case of silver-rot eating through his ribs. With his remaining moons numbered, Lardon chooses to reclaim his wild instincts. He signs the dissolution scrolls, strips off his collar, and walks into the cold wilderness to resurrect his buried dreams at Nighthowl Systems, guided by his former childhood protector turned powerful rogue, Aziel Crowbane. But an Alpha-Prime does not surrender his property so easily. When Draven tracks his runaway mate down to a dark, secluded den, the confrontation burns with years of unspoken, toxic fixation. "You think a piece of signed parchment severs what is etched into your bones, Lardon?" Draven growled, his powerful claws pinning the omega against the rough stone wall, his tongue forcefully tracing the sensitive, throbbing skin of Lardon's unbitten neck. "Scream your defiance all you want, but your wolf still slicks the furs the moment my shadows wrap around your thighs. Let me feel how desperate you are to be ruined by my fangs again." Will Lardon survive the lethal decay in his bloodline, or will the predatory obsession of two dominant Alphas tear his world to shreds?

"Azel, you walked away from the highest bloodline in the continent, but you cannot outrun the primal pull of a true apex predator." "Are you threatening my independent status, Ronan? Or are you just desperate to see how a rogue handles your collar?" "I don't want your submission, little wolf. I want your teeth against my throat while the entire continent watches our boundaries burn." I spent my previous life trying to please the elite Whitmore pack, only to be left for dead in the silver-fires of the Shadowfang Ruins while they saved their precious adopted omega. But the moon granted me a second sunrise. Now, reborn with a cold heart and an independent rogue scout license, I’ve broken my bloodline covenant and turned my back on the family who abandoned me. Running wild in the cutthroat Bloodmoon Trials Arena, the corporate lords of the Lunar Veil Dominion vow to crush my name. My treacherous ex-mate tries to anchor me to his past, while my former brothers try to starve my inner wolf into submission. They think an unbonded male cannot survive the winter circuit alone. They are completely wrong. I am building my own sanctuary from the dirt up at Frostclaw Hollow. But I didn't count on the wildcard entry. Enter Ronan Nightcrest—the arrogant esports gaming legend known as 'Zeus.' Backed by the continent's most powerful lineage, he is fierce, biting, and entirely immune to the pack’s deceit. While the MoonNet Circle explodes with corporate smear campaigns, Ronan doesn't want my compliance—he wants my raw, untamed fire. In a high-stakes urban fantasy world driven purely by power, survival, and forbidden heat, can a solitary rogue claim absolute dominance, or will an elite alpha's possessive bite ruin my hard-won freedom forever?

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK MAY CONTAIN THEMES LIKE DARK AND SPICY ROMANCE, STEAMY AND SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, SUBSTANCE ABUSE AND FORCED SEX WHICH IS STRICTLY NOT FOR KIDS UNDER +18 READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. . "If I should take you tonight Sierra, your body belongs to me and only I will be able to touch and do to you as I please, do you understand?" He asked with a smug grin on his face while he waited for her response. "I don't care who the fuck you are but you can't hold me captive. I will run away from here. That I promise you!" She swore vehemently. "The thing is..." He tugged at the collar around her neck, pulling her forward with a sinister smile on his face. "You can run Piccola but you can't hide. I'd tumble the whole world upside down to find you if I have to. You belong to me and only me!" *.*.* . Twenty year old Sierra Delavine has a one night stand with a masked stranger at a hotel who turns out to be Diavolo Castillo, the most dangerous Italian Mafia and drug lord right after receiving the heartbreaking and devastating news of her sister's medical condition. Diavolo who is the sworn enemy of the former senator who happens to be her father, offers her a deal to become his sex slave in exchange of her sister's life. She would have to live with him for three months and take him. All of him whenever and however he wanted it. As their worlds collided, they found themselves caught in a web of lies, betrayal, and danger. Will Ciara accept Diavolo's offer and will she find solace in the heart of the ruthless Italian mafia?

Sebastian's POV I've been watching my stepbrother since the wedding. He doesn't know. He thinks I'm cold. Distant. A rich asshole who doesn't care. He's right about the cold part. My father made sure of that. But when I see his manager grab him by the collar, when he accidentally sends me a shirtless photo meant for the girl who's been laughing at him behind his back — something in me cracks. I protect him because I have to. I want him because I'm weak. And when my father starts circling Jae like prey, when I find out someone wants him dead and others just want him broken, I have to choose. My family. Or the first person who ever made me understand what love means. Touching him would be a sin. Letting him die would be worse. Jae's POV In my world, you either survive alone or you don't survive at all. My manager beats me. My girlfriend laughs at me online. My stepfather wants me on a stripper pole. Then my stepbrother — cold, gorgeous, untouchable Sebastian — tells me he wants to protect me. He says he'll make me forget everything she did. But his father is obsessed with me. Someone is trying to kill me. And three years ago, my own father died in a bar that belongs to their family. Falling for Sebastian would be dangerous. Letting him go would be suicide. But how do I trust a man who was ice yesterday and fire today? How do I know the hand pulling me out of the dark isn't the same one that buried my father?

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"