Counting Crows Poem Novels & Stories

He got one text and was dragged to the room by the man Finn swore he’d never kneel to again. Magnus. The suite’s dark when Finn steps inside. Magnus likes it that way. Darkness makes people honest, knocks down walls, gives him time to do as he pleases. The only thing Finn can really see is the mark on his collarbone. Magnus left that mark. It was supposed to be nothing, just a night, but here they aren, nothing never happened. Now Magnus stands close. Too close. Finn can feel the heat of him, the steadiness of his hand, thumb angled under his chin, nudging his face up. Slow, deliberate. Merciless. Like he’s got all night, and he’s going to use every minute. There’s a choice here, but it’s not much of one. Take off your clothes. Give in. Get what you need or walk away and let someone else pay for it. Magnus presses a piece of paper against Finn’s skin, dragging it down, fingertip tracing the edge to his waist. Finn’s breath stutters. It was never really about the drug. It’s Magnus watching him, already sure how the night ends, almost like he’s been counting the days for Finn to walk right back through a door like this. Finn undoes the first button then the next.Magnus just watches, lazy smile bending his mouth, and the room feels tight, hot, full of something dangerous and old that never left. Some hungers just sleep. They don’t die. So, is Finn going to surrender tonight? Or by morning, will he even want to leave?

"I am bound to punish you for breaking the rules," he said as he started undoing his tie. I swallowed, the thought of being punished by him terrified and excited me at the same time. I needed this. The heat pooled between my legs as I watched him undo his tie with one hand and his belt in the other. It was hot. He grabbed me by the neck, bending me over the table with my face down on the surface and my ass high up in the air. He caressed my soft flesh with his palm. "Count," he ordered, My brows furrowed in confusion, the haze of lust so heavy in my head that my brain failed to grasp his words. The first slap landed on my ass cheeks and I cried out. "Count," he barked. I whimpered but I nodded my head to his request. "One," I counted as the first slap came on my behind. I kept counting as he delivered blows to my now red ass. "Good girl," he murmured as he rubbed them gently, to take away the ache. I was moist and he could sense it. Dipping his finger into my pussy, he confirmed how wet I was for him. "Hmm," he hummed, embarrassment slammed into me with enough force. I barely knew this man and here I was letting him possess me. I liked it. I licked my lips in anticipation of what he wished to do, his lips touched the nape of my neck and I jumped. He licked the juncture of my neck, and the pulsating nerves there responded to his touch. "You taste so sweet," he murmured as he kissed his way down my neck. "T...thank you," I managed to get out. "Let me make you mine," he says,

"You called me a spoiled princess who wouldn't last five minutes in the real world." "You hacked my team's group chat and sent my rookie hazing photos to the entire athletic department." Ivy Chen and Nate Callahan have history. Bad history. So when a reality TV show, a brother's scholarship, and one NHL reputation crisis collapses them into the same luxury off-campus house, fake dating, shared bed, live cameras it should be simple. Pretend. Survive. Walk away. Except Ivy already knows something she can't unknow: her anonymous 2 a.m. best friend, the one she's been trading secrets and stupid hockey memes with for months, the one who feels like the safest person she's never met is him. Nate. Her brother's grumpy, broody, insufferable captain. The guy who stress-bakes at midnight after losses. Who has a hidden playlist of cheesy 2000s power ballads. Who looks at her sometimes like she's not a problem to solve anymore. "This isn't real," she reminds herself daily. The staged touches say otherwise. Because somewhere between sharp barbs softening into playful teasing, stolen kisses that linger way past necessary, and quiet unguarded moments the cameras never quite catch the list of reasons she can't stand him stops growing. Then comes the night after overtime, Nate still in his game-day suit, eyes warm in the low kitchen light. "So what happens when the cameras stop rolling?" His thumb brushes her jaw. Soft. Certain. "Who said we're stopping?" One semester. One championship run. One expiration date. Neither of them is counting down anymore.

Prince Barlion Great was about to accept the throne from his father, King Viper Great by the time he reached of age. But the lack of responsibility in the Prince had dragged out his correlation for a decade. But when the second son came of age, Prince Barlion was given a last chance to prove himself that he was worthy of the crown. The only way Kind Viper could challenge his son was to make him do the one thing the Prince was repulsed of.... Commitment. so, the King proposed that he will take Frost Sorrow as his wife or, he can pass the throne down to his brother. Prince Barlion didn't want to marry the faceless woman who has unpleasant tales told about her through all the five kingdoms. But he wasn't about to give up the throne either. Frost Sorrow- the faceless girl- had never imagined that she would be betrothed to the future king of Gold land Kingdom. Counting the seconds until the illness would finally take her had been the only thing she knew. A husband and a family were never written in the starts for her. But her parents had taken this opportunity to give her hand to the future king, where she'd be safe, while they travel beyond the five Kingdoms and searched for a healer. Frost didn't want to take a husband. She didn't want to leave the comforts of her home. But she would never defy her parents, and her parents would never defy the king. Prince Barlion doesn't want a faceless wife with enough rumors to fill a horror story. He doesn't want a wife, period. All he needed to do is stand the woman until he gets the throne. After that, all he has to do is...drive her away.

SODOM DADDIES: Pack of the Oregon Daddies A Collection of Filthy Forbidden MM Sins He called me boy like it was a brand. And I let him burn it into me. Not because I was weak. Because I was worshipping . This is what they don't tell you about forbidden things—they don't feel wrong when you're in the dark with them. They feel like religion . Like the only prayer you've ever known. And the men in these pages? They're not asking for your soul. They're taking it with a smile, a grip on your throat, and a whisper of good boy that ruins you for anyone else. SODOM DADDIES isn't just one hunger. It's a feast of every dark craving you've hidden in your bookmarks, your late-night searches, the parts of yourself you don't name out loud. Your best friend's father who finally stops pretending he hasn't been counting down the days until you're legal. The silver fox next door who teaches you exactly how he likes it—slow, filthy, deep . The alpha who doesn't ask before he claims what's already his. The age gap that should make you run, but instead has you spreading your legs and begging him to stay. Every story is a different sin. Every daddy is a different death. And every single one of them knows exactly what you need before you do. They're not here to love you gently. They're here to ruin you completely. And you're already on your knees, aren't you? 18+ ONLY. Contains explicit MM content, power imbalances, age gap relationships, pseudo-incest themes, and scenes that may leave you ruined for vanilla forever.

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

My name is Rayne and I've always been alone in life. Except for him… The Demon that watches me in the night. Reavers are ruthless, blood thirsty creatures. Disguised as distinguished gentlemen in suits and ties, the brothers will kill without rhyme or reason. Everything about them is made to attract you, make you forget that you should be fucking running the opposite direction. And it works. I live in the most powerful pack in the world. But even my Alpha is afraid of the brothers. The Reaver with eyes of molten gold, hunts me like it's a fucking game. He follows me, watches me in secret, and makes himself known if I do something he doesn't like… It's been 7 years since he laid his claim on me, but he should have let me fucking drown. He tries to control every aspect of my life, but I will do what I want, when I want, and I would like to see him try and fucking stop me. In fact, I'm counting on it… I refuse to be anyone's puppet. Not the Demon who watches me, not my Alpha's, and sure as fuck not the Demon's younger brother. I've heard the whispers. I know there's something different about me... But that gives exactly no one the right to think they fucking own me. How much am I willing to give up to prove that point? I ask myself this question, and then make a choice… A choice that nearly destroys me. Lucky for me, The Darkness would never let me face this trauma alone… With The Darkness on my side, I feel fucking invincible, and I'm going to go out of my way to make sure that everyone knows exactly where I fucking stand. (Book 1 in The Reaver Chronicles Series)

SYNOPSIS The Wrong Pair of Eyes Mia Caldwell isn’t looking for anything. She has Ethan, warm, loving, six thousand miles away but counting down every day until he’s back. She has her studies, her routine, her carefully maintained life. She has a relationship built on a year of long distance and the kind of trust that costs something to keep. She isn’t looking. But then Ryder Holt walks out of a cafeteria door while she’s on the phone with her boyfriend and something in her chest moves without permission. He doesn’t introduce himself. Doesn’t flirt, doesn’t chase, doesn’t do any of the things she could easily dismiss. He just looks at her. Direct and unhurried and completely certain, like he’s already made a decision and is simply waiting for her to arrive at the same one. They get paired for a project and she finds out he requested her specifically, she’s bringing him coffee and losing arguments she should win and lying awake thinking about a man she has no right to think about while Ethan sends heart emojis from across the world and says he’s coming home early.Three weeks. She has three weeks to get herself under control. Ryder Holt has other plans. Possessive without touching her. Obsessive without saying it. He sees her in ways that feel both thrilling and terrifying and the closer he gets, the more Mia realizes the real danger isn’t him but how little she’s pulling away. The Wrong Pair of Eyes is a slow burn dark romance about desire arriving at the worst possible moment, loyalty cracking under the weight of something real, and a woman caught between the love she chose and the one she never saw coming.

When I was six years old, I became an actual dummy after playing a silly game with my older sister, Hannah Hubbard. My mental age is stuck at six years old. Because of that, my grandma receives a huge shock, causing her condition to deteriorate. Since then, Hannah has completely transformed into a brand new person. Thanks to her scholarship and her efforts to collect and sell trash, Grandma and I are able to survive under her care. Hannah is such a prideful person, and yet when her classmates call her stupid nicknames, she doesn't get mad at them at all. But if anyone is to call me an idiot, Hannah will seek justice for me no matter what. That night, Hannah gathers me in her arms while crying soundlessly. "My Oliver isn't an idiot at all. You just haven't grown up yet. Oliver, promise me that you will never leave me, okay?" I just nod blankly. For the next three years, I cling to her like glue. That is, until Blake Mueller appears in our lives. When I'm done playing with the mud, I forget to wash my hands, so I accidentally soil Blake's white shirt with my soiled hands. That's when Hannah suddenly breaks down emotionally and kicks me out of the house. "Oliver Hubbard, you've dragged me down my whole life! Are you going to cause trouble for Blake as well? Can you please be more understanding and stop causing more trouble for me?" Finally, an idea sparks inside my dim-witted brain for once. It turns out that my existence brings nothing but misery to Hannah. So, I hide inside the casket Grandma has custom-ordered for herself. There, I close my eyes and begin counting down quietly. Three, two, one. Let the game begin.

They said a wolfless omega like me should be grateful for any mate. They didn't mention he'd reject me in front of three hundred wolves on my twenty-second birthday. For fourteen years, I survived as Silverpine Pack's punching bag, always starved, beaten, and told I was worthless. Tonight was supposed to change everything. My fated mate, Beta Marcus Kane, was supposed to claim me. Instead, he chose my cruel stepsister and condemned me to the silver chamber. So I ran. Straight into rogue territory. Straight into them. Kael, Damon, and Reece Blackthorn: three exiled alpha bikers with reputations as dark as their wolves. Dangerous and deadly. And somehow... all three are my fated mates. They say shared mates only occur in the most powerful bloodlines. They say it's a gift from the moon goddess herself. But I'm nobody. I'm broken. I don't even have a wolf. Except I do. And she's not just any wolf. She's a White Wolf, a bloodline extinct for two centuries. The kind of power that alphas kill for. The kind of power my stepfather has been suppressing with poison and dark magic since I was eight years old. Now my wolf is awakening, the Blackthorn brothers are falling for me despite their blood curse counting down to destruction, and the corrupt Wolf Council wants me dead or controlled before I become unstoppable. The stepfather who tortured me is coming to finish what he started. My ex-mate is dying from our severed bond and is desperate to reclaim me. And three devastatingly possessive alphas have made it clear: anyone who wants me goes through them first. I'm done being the victim. Done being weak. Done apologizing for existing. They wanted a monster? The White Wolf has awakened. She's coming for everyone who tried to break her.