Give Holy Chapter Infested Novels & Stories

Wren Holloway was branded and rejected at her Claiming. The Moon Goddess chose her for Prince Caiden. He denied her in front of the court. The High Priestess cut her bond and scarred her shoulder. She watched her sister Lyra become the Luna she was promised to be. The Alpha King gave her one hour. Marry the Butcher or die on the altar. Exile at the border forced her into Alpha Draven Duskbane’s keep. He is Caiden’s uncle. The male who ended the last war by lining his walls with heads. Draven is lethal and precise. But around Wren, instinct overrides hatred. The longer she stays, the harder it gets to see her as anything other than his. Her gray eyes flash silver. The color that killed his parents. The color he vowed to destroy. Her brand hides witch runes. Lyra sold Wren’s firstborn to a marsh witch to steal the crown. The debt still stands. If Wren bears an heir, the witch takes it. If she doesn’t, the curse kills every Duskbane pup for twenty more years. Now she has to choose. Stay weak and let the witch win, or become strong enough to burn down the kingdom that branded her, in a court that was designed to make girls like her disappear.

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm. She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival. Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!" Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room. When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water. As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"

In the stillness of my penthouse evenings, where my world ignited by Adrian’s touch, I was, for all purposes, the luckiest woman in the world. And I am, or was, Cecilia Lancaster, a dreamer who fell for Adrian Blackwood’s dark and brooding good looks, every moment, every laugh, every tear, all with my ride or die best friend, Isabel Chen. We formed a group of unbreakable relationships or so I believed—only until one afternoon shattered all my world. The pregnancy test shone brightly, a mini spark of joy amidst all our glitz and mayhem. However, barging into our bedroom like a maniac, I destroyed the image: Adrian and Isabel, locked in an embrace made for lovers, sheepishly gazing at me. The twist hit like thunder. "Love? Never," Adrian growled, his slap echoing my breaking heart. "Your father's reckless deal killed mine in that boardroom betrayal. I married you for vengeance to strip away your happiness like he did ours." Isabel's revelation stabbed deeper"I'm pregnant with his heir, Cecilia. The family you could never build." I fled into the raging storm, devastated, and whispered to my unborn child, "We'll make our own light, baby," before a screech of tires and oblivion claimed me. They mourned me as dead. 5 yrs later, Adrian's empire was flourishing, built on an unfulfilling revenge—until Isabel's web unraveled: her "pregnancy" a cruel fabrication in an attempt to trap him. As Adrian wrestles with the second opportunity to succeed, to win back the family he never knew, hidden truths abound: allegations of company treachery, Isabel's vendetta comeback, and my wavering recollections on the cusp of igniting fresh hurts. Can love truly be reborn from the flames, or shall the central conflict: forgive or fury?consume us all?

"Your love ain't what I need" he looked intensively in my eyes, with lust and intense desire hooded in his eyes. His body pressed against mine on the wall, his left held my hands above my head, and he groped my left breast with his right hand -his fingers pinched my nipples teasingly. "What I want is your body, to be buried deeply in you, and to feel every inch of you" his minty breath fanned my face, and sent shivers down my spine. "I'll worship your body, and f*ck you so hard until you totally forget about your other f*çk buddies!" he growled possessively. Finding the wait too long, I grabbed his necktie and crashed my lips on his. "Just f*çk me already!" I moaned throatily against his lips. >><< Stella McCartney was supposed to be a nun (a reverend sister), but because of a situation she was kidnapped and separated from her family, she was r*ped mercilessly by drug dealers and her dream of becoming a nun was shattered, and she ended up becoming a s*x addict. Now she only wanna become a pornstar, but unfortunately, that dream was shattered too when she met Ferguson Ansaldo Alfonso who is obsessed with s*x, he doesn't go a day without s*x and now, he's vowed never to let her go. What happens when these two s*x obsessed freaks signed a contract, to be each other's s*x toy?

Sophie, who deeply loved Dylan, had been enduring constant pain because Dylan was in love with a lowly maid. Dylan believed the maid was his lifesaver, and he forced Sophie to donate a kidney to her. Only then did he realize he had mistaken the wrong person—but by that time, Sophie had already left him forever.

He watched her grow up. Now he can't stop watching her. Ayana Marcus came home for Christmas expecting family dinners and small-town boredom. What she didn't expect was Nelson Ward looking at her like she was something he'd been starving himself of for twenty years. He's forty-five. She's twenty-four. He's her father's best friend, the town's moral compass, a man who hasn't touched a woman since his fiancée died and took every good thing in him with her. She's the pastor's daughter. The good girl. The one who was never supposed to want something this dangerous. One kiss changes everything. Now she's sleeping in his bed, her father won't speak to her, the whole town is watching — and Nelson Ward, who spent two decades convincing himself he didn't deserve happiness, is learning what it costs to finally take it. Some men are worth the scandal. Some Decembers are worth burning everything down. UNHOLY DECEMBER — because the most sacred thing she ever did was love a man everyone told her was forbidden.

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

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.

“God—” “Not God,” he muttered against my neck, biting the skin there. “Me. Say my name.” “Dorian!” I cried, back arching. “That’s it.” He stroked faster, his thumb teasing over the tip, slicking me up. “Good boy. Take it.” Ezra Monroe was raised to be pure. The perfect choir boy. Twenty-two and untouched—soft voice and eyes that have never looked too long at sin. But one man ruins everything. Father Dorian Vale. The moment his eyes meet Ezra’s, something snaps. And a good boy learns how to kneel for the wrong man. He was supposed to guide him to heaven. Instead, he’s teaching him how to sin. He’s not here to save Ezra. He’s here to ruin him. Slowly. Until every prayer sounds like his name.

I was about to marry my boyfriend of seven years, Edward Carter. However, he was secretly getting a marriage certificate with his first love. In a moment of panic and disbelief, I confronted him: "Edward, what do I even mean to you?" Edward grabbed me as I tried to walk away, his eyes filled with helplessness: "Jennifer, you know Chloe is my first love. She only has two months left to live. I just don't want her to leave with regrets." "The woman who will be my last wife, though, is you." It was laughable. He felt sorry for his first love—did that mean I had to suffer? I saw the mocking look Chloe Smith shot my way. Then, to make things worse, Edward actually suggested I let Chloe take my place in the wedding. That was the last straw. After seven years of love, I did not want it anymore. I called my brother, "Hey, the wedding is in ten days. Can you find me a new groom?"