Massive Dragons Novels & Stories

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

Warning: This book contains violence, explicit content, taboo affairs, forbidden relationships, and BDSM. It is intended for adults, 18 and above. “This is…wrong, you are my twin sister's mates.” I stammered breathlessly, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as my body convulsed with the arrival of my fifth orgasm. ***** Betrayed by my mate and enduring a heartwrenching rejection, my world crumbled the day I was sold off to a vegetable Alpha to become a breeder. But things took a swift dark turn as the vegetable turned out to be not one, not two, but three savage, sinful, dominant forces. The rules were simple; No strings attached. Avoid eye contact. Speak only when spoken to. Produce the next heir. Disobedience meant swift death. Once all these were in place, hopefully, my freedom or death would be granted. Sticking to the rules was easy, until the rhapsody of an unforgettable night in the red room. A deadly mistake that blurred the line between loyalty and family. They were forbidden fruits, my twin sister's mates. But I couldn't get enough of their massive cocks plunging into me from unholy directions. Their hungry tongues claiming my filthy mouth, their wandering hands ravaging my body, bending me in ungodly positions. Deliciously sinful. Once a naive virgin, now, a perfect good girl for their ruin. Like a magnet, their sinful voices pulled me to them dangerously, conquering my morals. When their voices go, “Spread your thighs for us, little dove.” I responded with total submission to my master's. What was supposed to be a one-time mistake turned into a deadly secret obsession. But secrets don't stay buried forever...especially the ones laced with a curse…and my Masters were hiding more than just their dark pasts. One deadly truth was capable of tearing us apart.

So it appeared that she was to start paying her way on her back with this absolutely massive, broad-shouldered, tattooed, aptly-named wild warrior. Gideon was a large man, but this modern viking put him to serious physical shame; if Gideon’s dick had split her in half in agony, Iris could only imagine what this monster’s cock would do to her. She just hoped that he left her able to walk… and able to fuck the rest of the boys downstairs, because of course they’d be close behind. She knew there would be blood soaking and staining her thighs before things were done, long before they decided that they’d used her up. Stopping her jumbled thoughts, Iris slowly lowered herself to her knees. **** Liam “Viking” Callahan thought the job was done. Evidence buried. Debt paid to The Road Devils MC. Then he drives out of the Utah mountains with a secret in the back of his van: a terrified woman running for her life. Iris has spent six months planning her escape from Gideon and the Garden of Divine Light. She’s barefoot, freezing, and desperate enough to gamble on a stranger who looks dangerous... but still safer than the hell she left behind. So she hides. And prays. When the Road Devils discover Iris, the truth unravels: a cult, a tyrant, and a woman who fled into a winter night wearing nothing but a nightgown and borrowed boots. She’s broken, but not defeated. Iris wants her life back... her body, her choices, her fearlessness. The only man she feels safe with is the towering, gentle Viking. As trust turns into desire, neither of them sees the danger closing in. Gideon wants his “property” returned... and he won’t stop until he gets it.

“Stay low, Omega. Unless you want to be flattened.” On the ice, I am not a girl. I am a liability. At least, that’s what Jaxon Thorne tells me every time his skates spray ice over my gear. As the only female on the university’s elite hockey team, I expected the chirping. I didn’t expect the suffocating, predatory shadow of our coach. Jaxon is a True Alpha in every sense—brutal, commanding, and obsessed with purity on his team. He hates that I’m here. He hates that my scent messes with his focus. And he spends every practice making my life a living hell. But his hatred feels… heavy. It’s in the way he traps me against the boards during drills, his massive frame pinning me until I can feel the thrum of his heart through our pads. He says he’s "fixing my stance," but his hands linger too long on my hips, and his growl sounds less like a coach and more like a beast claiming its prey. Then comes the ultimate penalty: a housing error makes us roommates. Now, there’s no rink to separate us. Just thin walls and the agonizing pull of our biology. He glares at me across the kitchen table with eyes that want to ruin me, yet he’s the one sliding the bolt shut on the front door. He says Omegas don’t belong in his sport. But the way he looks at me when I’m cornered says he thinks I belong exactly where he can keep me: on my knees, under his command, and utterly his. ************************** Trigger Warnings: 18+ Content/Hardcore: Graphic sexual content, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent) elements, dub-con (due to biological "Heat/Scent" influences), aggressive Alpha behavior, and language.

As my due date approached, a massive discrepancy surfaced in the Galante family's arms accounts. The leadership made a swift decision. They sent me, Sophia Vitale, the Don's wife, the woman everyone claimed had nothing better to do, to personally inspect the armory and verify the inventory. I believed it was a routine check. I never imagined my husband's godsister, Monica Leone, would use it as cover to blow up the entire armory. The explosion was deafening. Fire ripped through the sky. Concrete collapsed around me, crushing my body as a searing pain tore through my abdomen. I did not call my husband on his highest-priority private line. Instead, I sent a distress signal to my father. In my previous life, the moment the explosion occurred, I had used that same priority channel to call my husband. The child had survived. Monica had been obliterated in the blast. My husband had claimed he did not blame me. He had said Monica was an outsider and that an heir mattered more. He had spared no expense, hiring elite obstetric specialists to monitor me day and night. He had told me to stay calm and wait for delivery. Then, on the day I went into labor, he personally locked me and the baby inside an abandoned warehouse drenched in gasoline and burned us alive. "If you hadn't deliberately delayed, she wouldn't have died. Do you really think playing the innocent victim could fool me? Dream on," he said. "You like playing with fire so much? Fine. I'll let you experience her despair yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the armory, at the exact moment of the explosion.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

‎FBI profiler Sara Mitchell doesn't believe in monsters. ‎Until one attacks her. ‎Bleeding and dying in a dark forest, Sara is saved by a massive black wolf with glowing eyes. The wolf shifts into a gorgeous naked man named Roman Volkov. The Alpha of Thornridge Pack. Powerful. Ruthless. Haunted by the death of his fated mate three years ago. Their laws are absolute, one mate per lifetime, no exceptions, no second chances. Until Sara. The mate bond hits him at the chest instant, violent, impossible to ignore. His wolf doesn't care about laws. It wants her. It claims her. And it will burn everything down before it lets her go. But Sara has bigger problems than a werewolf who looks at her like she's the answer to a prayer he stopped saying. The monster hunting her isn't random. It's Marcus Webb her former partner, the man she thought died two years ago. He transformed into something ancient and hungry and obsessed, and he wants Sara to become exactly what he is. His hunting partner. His weapon. Trapped between a mate bond pulling her toward the most dangerous man she's ever met and a creature wearing her dead partner's face, Sara faces the choice that will define everything. Run back to the human life that was already half a lie. Or fight for the supernatural world that might be her only real home. Roman's pack doesn't want her. The supernatural world wants her dead. And the mate bond grows stronger every day whether she accepts or not. Some bonds are written in fate, others are forged in blood, fire, and the kind of choice that costs everything. Sara Mitchell is about to find out what she's truly made of. The answer will change both their worlds forever.

“Take them off yourself, or I will do it for you.” Ten sessions. Two hundred thousand dollars. Her brother’s life for her body. Dr. Avery St. Clair signed a contract in blood. To save her family, she has to fix the mind of Obsidian City’s most feared monster, Dominic Kessler. He’s a Mafia Don rotting from the inside out. A bullet gave him C-PTSD and a touch so sensitive he can’t stand being touched. Avery is the only antidote who can calm him down. So he locked her in his villa. But Dominic is playing a game he’s already lost. He doesn’t know Avery is the woman from seven years ago. The stranger who saved him on that dark gambling ship and disappeared before sunrise. He doesn’t know the scar on his wrist is burned into her memory. And most of all, he doesn’t know the autistic little girl hiding in her clinic is his own daughter. While Avery hides the truth behind her professional mask, their little girl feels his every nightmare. Every flashback. Every crack in his monster mask. When the secrets finally come out, his empire will fall. He’ll lose his sight. His throne. The only woman who ever made him feel human. To win her back, he’ll have to destroy the monster he became. And help her burn down the man who murdered her parents. She won’t make it easy. This is not a love story. It’s a monster learning to beg. Why read this? Obsessive Mafia Hero Secret Baby with an Autistic and Gifted Daughter Identity Reveal “Touch Her And You Die” Energy Massive Groveling and Revenge A Heroine Who Fights Back No Cheating. Happy Ending Guaranteed.

Emelia's home from college and she's done pretending to be a good girl. The second her mother's car pulls out of the driveway for a two-hour appointment, the bratty little tease makes her move. Wearing nothing but a soaked black thong, she struts into the living room, tits bouncing, and plants herself right between her stepdad Marcus's legs. "Tick-tock, Daddy," she purrs, slowly peeling the thong down her thighs so he can see how obscenely wet her tight pussy already is. "Mom's gone for two hours... but I only need fifteen minutes to climb on that thick married cock and ride you like a desperate little slut." Marcus tries to resist. He really does. But Emelia just smirks, spreads her legs, and starts rubbing her dripping cunt against the massive bulge in his pants. "I've been dreaming about this for months," she whispers, grinding harder. "I want you to stretch me open, Daddy. I want you to ruin my pussy and pump me so full of your hot cum that it's still leaking out when Mom kisses me hello later." She leans in, biting her lip with pure brat energy. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to be a good stepdad and send me to my room... or are you finally going to let your filthy stepdaughter bounce on your cock cowgirl style and beg you to breed me before she gets back?" Because Emelia isn't leaving until she gets exactly what she wants a deep, raw, creampie from the one man who's supposed to protect her. Some lines should never be crossed. Emelia's about to ride right over them.

Ember never meant to make a king. She was just trying to survive her heat without embarrassing herself in front of the massive, infuriatingly calm wolf living in the loft next door. Ember has spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. She’s stubborn, private, and perfectly happy suffering through things alone—including the inconvenient attraction she’s been pretending not to feel toward Ghost. Ghost notices everything. He notices when Ember skips meals. When she hasn’t slept. When she’s pretending she doesn’t need help. Calm, steady, and impossible to shake, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t push—but also doesn’t leave. Which becomes a problem when a violent storm destroys half of Ember’s apartment and Ghost is the one who drags her out of the wreckage. Suddenly the fiercely independent she-wolf who hates relying on anyone is stuck living next door to the one man she’s been trying not to want. Then Ember’s heat hits. What starts as proximity and stubborn attraction turns into something neither of them expected when their bond snaps fully into place—awakening a long-buried bloodline Ember never knew she carried. For generations, wolves like her were known as Kingmakers—rare mates capable of exposing corruption and keeping pack leadership honest. Twenty years ago, someone tried to wipe them out. Now Ember’s power has awakened. And the quiet city she and Ghost call home—long governed by careful politics instead of true pack leadership—is about to change. Because Ghost never wanted to be an Alpha. But Ember’s bloodline has a habit of exposing exactly the kind of wolf who should be. And Ember might have just made a king.