Rope Bunny Knots Novels & Stories

"Jett?" My voice trembled. "Shhh, Bunny," he murmured, tilting the bottle and pouring the liquor over my p***y. The cold sting hit my swollen folds, and I jolted up, gasping as the burn spread through me. "Ahhh—!" I nearly buckled from the mix of cold fire and his hot tongue as he went back to eating me. My body jerked off the table, chasing the torment I knew I couldn’t withstand. He pulled back, eyes dark, smirking as his tongue followed every drop running down my thighs. "F***," he groaned. "You taste even better with whiskey on your pussy." --- I thought my biggest mistake was crushing on Jason Maltideon—my best friend, the boy I’d spent my life yearning for—only for him to reject me the moment the Goddess fated me to him. But my real mistake? Giving myself to the wrong man. His twin brother—Jettison Maltideon. He’s everything I should fear: wild, reckless, a walking sin wrapped in leather and gasoline. The kind of man who fights too hard, drinks too much, and smirks like he knows exactly how to ruin me. I hate him. I hate that he looks just like the man who shattered my heart. I hate that he knows my darkest secrets—and doesn’t care. But most of all, I hate that when he touches me, I burn. Jettison wants me. He doesn’t take no, and he’s made it clear he’ll chase me until I break. Now, with the Moon Goddess pulling our strings in a storm of betrayal, forbidden bonds, and a sickness tearing our pack apart, I’ll have to decide— Is Jettison my ruin? Or the only wolf who was ever meant to save me? Note: Rated 18+. Dark romance, morally complex characters, and triggering themes.

On the day after my twin brother, Jonathan Sander's death, I've married Natania Gilmore, my widowed sister-in-law. That day, Natania prints a thousand copies of Jonathan's death report and announces to the world that I'm the actual killer. Because of that, everyone despises me. Even my parents sever all ties with me on the spot. After our marriage, Natania keeps getting into romantic scandals. She's also brought countless men home with her. She makes me stand outside her room while listening to their debauchery every time. I'm also required to take photos of her and her boytoy with my camera once they are done with their lovemaking. I can only stomach everything quietly. My only plea is that I get to have a child with Natania. But Natania just scoffs at me. "Just how much of a filthy wuss are you, Leon Sander? If you need a woman's touch that badly, go ahead and find yourself another woman out there. Doesn't the idea of kneeling by my feet while begging for my touch like a mutt disgust you? "What, you really think having a child with me can tie me down? I'll have you know that I will never settle down with you for the rest of my life!" In order to shatter my hopes, Natania even goes out of her way to be cruel to me by spending a fortune on building a horse ranch. Each horse stable is taken up by her lovers. Even the people in the elite society claim, "The group of stallions that Natania keeps in her stables are a lot better than the simping mutt who wags his tail at her at home." Three years later, my mother-in-law, Wendy Gilmore, suddenly texts me a reminder. "Remember our promise, Leon. Three years are up. You have one more week to tie up all the knots in your life."

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.

"Genie" His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "This is so wrong, we can't be doing this." His lips find their way back to mine, trailing the bottom lip with his tongue. "So so wrong" He pulled my lower lips in, biting on them. I stifled a moan. "I know," I managed to say. I could feel the warm slickness ache between my legs. "We shouldn't be doing this. You're my step brother." My body doesn't agree with what my mouth is saying. I snuggled closer into his chest wanting to feel the heat of his bare body against mine. I want his mouth against mine, ravaging me like he had done before. We have gone too far to back out now. "Take me, Ryder" Those were the words he needed. Only those three words. Suddenly, he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up and look straight into my eyes "You're mine" Then his lips came down on mine. I'm yours. I whispered back in the back of my head. ******** Ryder Saint, for years, has bullied me. Reasons? None. It was like he signed a contract from heaven to make my life hell. From the moment he set his eyes on me, he added my name to his list. Don't be fooled by his last name. It's a charade, he's not anything like it. Everything about Ryder Saint smells evil. His heart, dark. His soul, dark. His aura, dark. Except his face. I should have neglected him like I always have, but I couldn't when our parents decided to tie the knots and he became my stepbrother. He and I, under the same roof.

"You can scream. Nobody's coming to save you." His c^ck is buried so deep I feel it in my ribs. My wrists are tied above my head with his belt while another man feeds his c^ck into my mouth. I'm gagging, drooling, mascara running down my cheeks, and my pussy is clenching so hard the one inside me groans. * * * This book contains extreme sexual content on every page. Gangbangs. Breeding. BDSM. Knotting. Choking. Double penetration. If your pussy isn't throbbing by the end of this warning, this book isn't for you. If you want something filthy. Something with thick cocks and rough hands and a voice that growls "good girl" while he's buried inside you. Something you'd never say out loud but your body responds to so hard your panties are wet before the fantasy even finishes playing. This book is that fantasy. Ten times over. C^cks shoved down throats until she's choking and drooling and begging with her eyes because her mouth is too full to speak. Pussies stretched around men so thick her walls ache for days. Two c^cks inside her at once while a third fills her mouth. Knots swelling and locking, pumping her so full her stomach feels heavy. Faces slapped mid-thrust while she whispers "again." Men who spit in her mouth, cum inside her raw, and don't let her clean up before the next one takes his turn. No slow burn. No fade to black. No soft landing. Just raw, graphic, unfiltered filth that starts on page one and doesn't let up until the final sentence. If the thought of being pinned, stretched, filled, bred, and used until cum is running down both your thighs makes something tighten low in your stomach, open the book. They're waiting. And they don't play gentle.