Guts X Casca Novels & Stories

STUCK... WITH THE DEVIL (Too Heartless to be tamed... Synopsis “Strip!” That's the only word that he says to her whenever he invites her to his room. Anya got on the bed, Stark naked ready to feel the monster inside her... Unnoticed, He drove into her widely which caused a wild gasp echoing the room.. She groaned painfully as he struggled to go deeper.. That's just her life since she turned Eighteen. Anya Riley was just 18 when her stepmom sold her into a Mafia clan. THE BLOODS** They're the most dangerous and callous association in Mexico. Even the government has failed many times In bringing them down. Who would want to associate with those kinds of people? They built their clan in the bushy part of Mexico, The building is the most tallest and hugest in Mexico.. They people residing there are only drug dealers, Killers, Smokers and lighters. And their boss...! Grayson Darius: He's a completely callous and different.. He's 22 years old, Handsome and well manly built. He's every girl's taste but he detests them.. Don't mess with him,, he means death. He inherited the clan from his late father which he had maintained to the world's taste.. No one is forced to Join this clan,, no going back as once as you've joined.. That's just it.. He hates Girls... Wanna Know why??.. Follow me.. He dislikes to see or mingles with them.. He has his reasons which is best known to him Alone... What happened when Anya was sold out to Grayson Darius as a repay of Anya's stepmom to Grayson? What happened when he turned her up to his s*x slave? Nothing but a pleasure deriver? Why does Grayson hates Girls? A whole mafioso leader?,,Do you think Anya can take him?

When Jayden Stolt, the Alpha King, is done inspecting the Greyridge pack, he leaves right away. After that, he commands his guards to deliver the Luna Crown and a wedding dress over to the pack. The guard claims that the Alpha King has smelled the scent belonging to his fated mate, and asks us to offer the she-wolf who's meant to become his mate. In the first time loop, Father has delivered Jenna Thornton, my exquisite and gorgeous older sister, to the Alpha King. When Jayden sniffs her scent, he crushes her skull instantly. "You're completely covered in shitty perfume, yet you think you get to become the Luna?" In the second time loop, Father chooses to deliver Malia Thornton, my younger stepsister, who's been foretold to be able to give birth to the strongest pups. Jayden wastes no time in slashing her guts out. "The scent isn't right!" In the third time loop, Father, who has no choice left, can only convince my stepmother, Vanessa Plink, to doll up and meet the Alpha King. Jayden instantly rips Vanessa to shreds. In the time loops after that, the female warriors, the female Omegas, and even the mute she-wolf who's in charge of caring for the horses are delivered to the Alpha King one by one. All of them end up getting slain by Jayden. In the 100th time loop, there aren't any adult she-wolves left in the pack. Only then does Father remember me, a she-wolf without a wolf spirit. "You're the only one left… This must be the correct she-wolf!" Relieved, Father delivers me to the Alpha King. But when Jayden sees me, rage instantly fills his gaze. He crushes all of my bones in my body before throwing my corpse into the woods for the beasts to feed on. "You'd rather die than give my fated mate to me?" In the final timeloop, when the Alpha King's guard shows up with the Luna Crown and the wedding dress once again, Father finally breaks down. He swears to the guard that there aren't any suitable she-wolves remaining in the pack anymore. But the guard just stares Father in the eye. "The Alpha King has already made it clear that his fated mate definitely resides within the Greyridge pack."

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

On the day I'm set to go into labor, I plead to my husband, Timothy Langford, to take me to the hospital when I'm two centimeters dilated. However, a pissed-looking Timothy orders his men to lock me up in a sauna room that's heated to 356 degrees Fahrenheit. This is all because my estimated labor date is one day earlier than my widowed sister-in-law, Natalie Thornton. Since Timothy is bent on making Natalie's baby the oldest grandson of the Langford family, he instructs his men to inject me with 100 labor-suppressant injections. No matter how much I beg Timothy to spare our baby, he remains unmoved. Having received 99 injections, I feel a world of pain crashing down on me, seeing as I'm already suffering from contractions to begin with. But Timothy is the one who injects the final labor-suppressant injection into my huge pregnancy bump. As he gazes at my agonized and writhing form, he says coldly, "It's already difficult for Natalie to survive in this world after losing my older brother. As her brother-in-law, I'm merely fulfilling her wish to become a mother. "Still, you refuse to spare her. It's not enough for you to force her to survive overseas on her own; you even plan on receiving labor-induction injections just to give birth to your baby on an earlier date! "It seems that I've spoiled you far too much for you to have the guts to pull this stunt off! The doctor already told me that once I've given you the labor-suppressant injections and leave you somewhere extremely hot, it can stop you from giving birth. You're only allowed to give birth once Natalie is out of labor." At that moment, I've completely given up on life. The moment Timothy witnesses Natalie's baby being born, his eyes are filled with tears of happiness. He sets off firework after firework to celebrate the grand birth. Later on, as Timothy gazes at Natalie's newborn, he finally remembers me and our unborn baby. When he's about to order his men to take me to the hospital, he receives a phone call from his assistant. "The hospital has called to inform you to take Mrs. Langford's body away."

“My lawyer will bring the divorce papers tomorrow and you can sign it. Once it's a month, I will have it delivered to the court." Liam explained with calmness. “Fine, but you will have to act according to my rules now," I said, and Liam looked at me with eyebrows furrowed. “I have conditions I would like you to pay keen attention to it." Liam didn't pry too much, and instead, he told me to go ahead. “Okay. I would like to have my separate room." “Fine," Liam agreed without batting an eyelid. “I don't want to share meals with you or anything. I will walk the way I want and do everything I want in my way." “Accepted," Liam replied. I released my hands under my bosom and clasped them together. I bit my lips in nervousness and braced myself. I'm no longer a teenager. “I don't want us having s*x," I said, looking at the wall. A blush crept to my cheeks which made me shut my eyes tight, muttering some curses under my breath. * * * * * * * * Emily had an arranged marriage to Liam Nolan, the ruthless billionaire in Los Angeles. Although she always had a crush on him Liam never recuperated her feelings. Despite the love she has for him, Liam didn't hesitate to treat her like trash. Betrayed by her sister, Emily's life was cruelly cut short. However, she was granted a second chance and this time, Emily swore to not repeat the same mistake she made in her past life. What happens when she realizes her ruthless husband has no intention of letting her go in this lifetime? Would she find the strength to break free, or would Liam's relentless pursuit rekindle the flames of their passionate yet toxic love?

"Does my son f*ck you this good? No? Then take this d*ck like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a f*cking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking D*ddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, f*ck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them D*ddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public s*x in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they f*ck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the f*cking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

On the night my family got wiped out, someone had hidden me behind the barrels inside the wine cellar. The gunshots kept going off the entire night outside the cellar. I could only curl up between the barrels while listening to unfamiliar voices cursing in Etarino. All I could do was gnash my teeth together in order to not make any sounds. At the break of dawn, the wine cellar's door was opened from the outside. Two people could be seen standing in front of the pouring light. The first person was Antonio Corleone, a 15-year-old teenager who was also the oldest son of the Corleone family. He was still holding a gun, which had smoke wafting from its barrel. The second person was Matteo Corleone, Antonio's younger brother. His clothes were stained with blood that didn't belong to him. Antonio crouched down before draping a coat over my body. "Don't be scared, Elena," he said. "From today onward, I'm your family." Matteo squeezed Antonio away before stuffing a warm slice of panettone into my hands. With red-rimmed eyes, he said, "My brother is right. I'll kill whoever has the guts to hurt you." It was Christmas Day of 1999. Back then, I was ten years old. For the next 20 years, I grew up in the estate located in Vosaro and became an essential part of the Corleone family. At the same time, I also grew up to be the woman both Antonio and Matteo have a crush on. The entire family has noticed their obsession and love for me. Antonio and Matteo help me exact vengeance on the people who killed my family. They even buy a football team and name it after me. Everyone thinks that the brothers are head over heels in love with me. They patiently wait for the news when one of them will marry me. Even I also think the same. But on the night before my 30th birthday, when Don Corleone asks the brothers who among them wishes to marry me, Antonio snuffs out the cigar in a crystal ashtray. "Father, you should know that I'm terribly busy with the family's affairs, so I have no time to marry anyone." Matteo swirls the whiskey in his glass while wearing a flippant smile. "Father, I'm only 33 years old, and I'm not done having fun just yet. Besides, marrying Elena is just a joking promise that I've made when I was young. I'm not going to follow through with it." The next day, the brothers decide to propose to my enemy's daughter, Sophia Volpe, at my birthday banquet which I have painstakingly prepared. They even force me to drink the entire bottle of grappa despite the fact that I've been suffering from stomach issues for ten years just to please Sophia. When I get carted into the ambulance after suffering from stomach bleeding, Antonio and Matteo immediately cover Sophia's eyes with their hands while claiming that I'm just faking my illness. The moment I feel blood rising from my throat, I've made up my mind. On the day I'm set to get discharged, I dial a phone number. "I will get married to the heir of the Rossi family."