Novel & Cerita Witchy Altar

"Oops, I did it again. I played with your heart, got lost in the game.” I close my eyes; I am enjoying the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. The sound of my voice echoing across the fields. Then I open my eyes; I am scared out of my mind by someone standing over me. "Where did you come from?! You should not creep up on people!" "I can ask you the same thing, what the hell are you doing out here?" His eyes run over my body, and I can see amusement build in his smile. "I never thought I would see the day that I find a clearly lost woman in a wedding dress in the back seat of a car singing to Britney Spears." Tyler Moore is the Sheriff of a small town far out from the city. With a body that is carved to perfection, this soft-spoken man should not be underestimated. Even though he is elegant and yet powerful, there is far more than lives underneath the façade that he brings. Jenna Davis, a girl that decides to leave her husband at the altar, runs away to the small little town where Tyler lives. She gets stuck on the side of the road in nothing but an empty tank, a wedding dress, and singing to Britney Spears. Tyler is the one that finds the poor damsel on the side of the road. Even though he finds her situation amusing, he is immediately captivated by her. She pushes him to his limits and brings the danger that he craves, that he desires. The two soon send off on a whirlwind relationship, but there is one thing that Tyler refuses to give…his heart. Will Jenna ultimately win his heart?

My billionaire dad chooses a husband for me. People claim that Sebastian Lambert is a fine gentleman who's absolutely in awe of me. He seems easy enough to deal with, so I agree to the marriage. The wedding is held at the biggest hotel my family owns. On the big day, as I push open the doors in my wedding dress, a bucket of foul-smelling blood comes crashing down on me. The scene inside is even more horrifying. What was supposed to be a pure and romantic ceremony is now decorated with giant spiders and cockroaches. Grotesque clown faces grin at me from the walls. At the altar, there's a black coffin. Sebastian's adoptive sister, Ruth Lambert, strolls over with a group of people. She covers her mouth in fake surprise as she remarks, "Oh my, Claudia, you look like a pathetic mutt right now!" Laughter erupts around me. Holding my anger back, I coldly reply, "All of you, get out." She crosses her arms, arrogantly looking down at me as if she's on some pedestal. "Come on, Claudia. Seb personally asked me to surprise you. I put in a lot of effort to decorate your little wedding. You're telling me to get out? I don't even get a 'thank you'? Do you need me to teach you some manners?" She signals to the people next to her, and two of them step forward, trying to force me to my knees. Stunned for a few seconds, I pull out my phone and call Sebastian. "Is this the so-called surprise you had your sister prepare for me? Forcing me to kneel before her?"

My wolf went insane after I watched my parents take their own lives right before my eyes. My childhood protector, Alexander, had to hold me every night. The only thing that can soothe my wolf is Alexander's Alpha scent. Later, Sophie, the Beta he cherished, took her own life, leaping from a bridge into the sea. Everyone thought I had pushed Sophie into the sea, so that I could have Alexander all to myself. The warmth Alexander once had for me was gone, replaced by an endless, desolate disappointment. He kept whispering, "Why... did it have to be this way?" But when a vampire’s lethal curse came for me, he still drained his Alpha strength to take the fatal blow. As he lay dying, he used his last ounce of strength to wipe a tear from my cheek. "It was my fault… I spoiled you, Elena. I never should have… brought you into my pack." Alexander's parents, the former Alpha and Luna, called me a cursed Omega. They said I was a calamity, that I was the one who destroyed their proud, noble Alpha son. Consumed by regret, I went to the altar of the Moon Goddess and offered my soul. I begged for a second chance, even if it cost me my soul's eternal peace. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Alexander discovered my sick obsession with him—my desperate need to claim him as my mate. This time, I would crush every delusional fantasy. My only wish was for him to find his true mate and live a long, powerful, peaceful life. As for me… my life was a price I was willing to pay.

For three hundreds under vampire rule, the Blood Prince has drawn a new bride from his realms every fifty years. In my previous life, Seraphina was chosen,Lucian’s childhood sweetheart. The night before our bonding ceremony, she burst into our chamber, tears streaming. “Lucian, I’ve been chosen as the Blood Prince’s seventh bride!” she sobbed. “They say he loses control on his wedding night, drains every drop of blood from his bride. None of the first six lived to see dawn. I don’t want to die—please, claim me as your mate!” But Lucian had already claimed me. And by wolf law, an Alpha may bind only one mate at a time. So I step forward, and refused her. The next day, at the altar, Seraphina slit her throat with a silver dagger. Lucian didn’t flinch. He ordered the blood scrubbed from the stones—and proceeded with our ceremony as nothing had happened. However,on our honeymoon, he pushed me into starving wolves. His eyes burned crimson as he snarled, “If you hadn’t tricked me into marking you earlier, Seraphina would be alive. You killed her.” Over a dozen of wolves with gleaming eyes swarmed me in, tore me limb from limb. Then I woke, back on the day the mate-hunger hex seized Lucian. This time, I dragged Seraph-the girl Lucian cherished as most precious jewel,from her house myself, and shoved her into Lucian’s chamber. “Be his cure, and I’ll take your place as the Blood Prince’s bride instead.

The day my fated mate Cole stood at the altar for the ceremony with his childhood sweetheart Kate, I was in the crowd, clapping my hands. Everyone assumed I had lost my mind over an unrequited love. Cole must have thought so too. He hurried over to me, seized my wrist tightly, and snarled a threatening warning: "This is Kate's greatest wish, the only thing she's ever asked for. She's fragile. Who knows how long she has left." "You wouldn't want her to die with that one regret, would you?" I gave a cold smile and took a sip of my champagne. "Of course not." In my last life, I had watched Kate taunt me from Cole's arms and I had screamed that she wasn't sick at all, that she was lying. I had torn the ceremony apart and forced Cole to stop it. Kate couldn't bear the humiliation. She ran out sobbing and was killed in a car accident. After that, Cole fabricated a charge of treason against my pack to avenge her. My parents were imprisoned by the Alliance and starved to death over ten days. I was exiled, became a rogue, and eventually died — cornered and torn apart by a pack of rogues, full of rage I would never be able to spend. This time around, I would give him exactly what he wanted. Every time he betrayed me, I would reclaim one privilege I had given his pack. Three betrayals. Three privileges. And then he would have nothing left.

On Mount Olympus, one law is ironclad: a god must never fall in love with a mortal. But Aresios, the God of War and heir to the King of the Gods, bound his very soul to mine. For me, he endured ninety-nine bolts of divine lightning and knelt before the Olympian altar for three days and three nights. Ichor soaked his armor, yet he smiled and kissed my lips. "Elara, don't be afraid. I want only you." The gods finally relented, on one condition: he had to leave behind a pure-blooded divine heir. After that, the words I heard most from Aresios were, "Just wait a little longer." The first time, it was to wait while he bedded another goddess. He and Cassia, the Goddess of Fate, lay together for thirty nights, until his golden ichor quickened in her womb. The second time, he told me to wait. Their first child was a girl, unable to inherit his divine mantle. The gods demanded a son. So he lay with Cassia for another ninety-nine nights, until she once again conceived a divine child. Just when I thought the ordeal was over, their newborn daughter was struck by Hydra's venom. The entire divine realm was convinced I had done it. As I was thrown into a cold bronze cage by the river Cocytus, Aresios stood outside the door, his eyes crimson. "You know what Hydra's venom does to an infant god. Why would you harm our daughter?" That one word. Our daughter. I was too numb to feel the pain. When the bronze cage door opened again, I unclenched my blood-drenched fists. This time, I would not wait.

She gave him five years of her life. Her education. Her passion. Her family name. Everything she had and everything she was — laid down piece by piece at the altar of a man and his ambitions, because she loved him and she believed in them. But the moment he reached the top, he discarded her without a second glance and proposed to another woman on international live television. So Mia did the only reasonable thing a heartbroken, furious woman could do. She found a bar. She found a stranger. She found her way into a hotel room and completely out of her mind for one reckless, consequence-free night. Then he tried to pay her afterward. She paid him back. Every bill. Then she slapped him clean across the face and walked out without looking back. She thought that was the end of it. It wasn't even close. Because the stranger she spent the night with turned out to be Cole Ashford — new captain of the Chicago Vortex, the most infuriating man she had ever encountered, and the person sitting behind the interview table when she walked in the very next morning with her whole future on the line. He wants her. He said so plainly, across a professional table, without a single apology for the honesty of it. She told him exactly where he could put that. But Cole Ashford is not a man who lets go of what he wants. And somewhere between the fury and the history and the secret she has spent years running from, Mia is beginning to wonder if the universe placed him in her path for a reason. Or if she is simply foolish enough to make the same mistake twice.

Warning: 18+ This novel contains explicit adult content, strong language, manipulation, graphic violence, blood, and mature situations. Read at your own risk or pleasure. He remarried her best friend… while she was still calling him her husband. Madden Callista thought the worst thing in her life was the darkness creeping into her vision. She was wrong, it was the darkness living in her marriage. She loved Daelan Grey with a blind, unshakable faith. When he slid documents across the table and told her they were “just business,” she signed them without hesitation. When he reassured her with soft kisses and steady hands, she believed him. When he promised forever, she gave him everything, her trust, her wealth, her name. She never imagined those signatures were erasing her. The day Callista walked into the grand wedding hall, she thought she was surprising her husband. Instead, she walked into a nightmare dressed in white. Daelan stood at the altar exchanging vows with Elysia. Elysia, her old best friend. Elysia, who once laughed with her over coffee, she now wore the smile of a thief. When she screamed that Daelan was her husband, whispers rippled through the crowd. Cameras turned but Daelen didn’t deny her. He simply lifted a file for everyone to see. “We divorced five years ago,” he announced, voice cold and measured. He had rewritten her entire existence. She's no longer the CEO of the brand Avenior but now a NOBODY. “Kiss me at my husband's wedding,” She whispered in a stranger’s ear, her breath reeking of alcohol. (A drug lord)

Eighty-five raw, dripping, boundary-shattering stories. Eighty-five ways to get fucked senseless. This isn’t romance. This is pure, merciless sin—cocks stretching tight, dripping pussies, tongues licking where they were never meant to go, and strong hands pinning you down until you’re begging, shaking, and ruined. From forbidden priests breaking their vows to claim you on the altar, to ruthless stepfathers spreading you open on the kitchen counter while your mother sleeps upstairs. From powerful doctors “examining” you until you’re soaking their gloves, to billionaire best friends fucking you raw behind your husband’s back. You’ll be sold at a dark private auction, stripped and displayed like a prize. You’ll pay rent with your holes in the filthiest ways imaginable. Professors, gym instructors, landlords, and strangers in the shadows will take every inch of you—rough, deep, and without mercy. These virgins will have their bellies pumped full of cum. Fingers will rip through tight, wet walls until you’re screaming, crying, and begging for more. Public fucks, forbidden touches, gangbangs, and nights so dirty you’ll need to shower twice—only to touch yourself all over again. Get your towels. Get your toys. Get ready to be wrecked by every filthy fantasy you’ve ever had… and a hundred more you didn’t know you craved. If you can’t handle raw, dripping-hot, mind-corrupting sex—close the book now. If you want your pussy aching, your ass red, and your mind utterly ruined… welcome to Sinful Surrender.

The Filthiest Collection You'll Ever Read WARNING: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT They say some lines should never be crossed. This collection crosses every single one. Behind the altar, Father Michael discovers Sister Claire on her knees—but not in prayer. His fourteen-inch cock and her broken vows create the most sinful confession the church has ever witnessed. In the strip club's champagne room, ownership takes on new meaning when the boss claims his newest dancer in ways that blur every professional boundary. Money talks. His fifteen inches scream. The megachurch reverend with the monstrous sixteen-inch secret destroys his young secretary across his Bible-covered desk while his wife leads worship downstairs. Hypocrisy has never been so hard. Married bosses fuck their secretaries on desks still warm from morning meetings. Divorce lawyers claim vulnerable clients on the same couch where they signed papers. Addiction counselors enable relapses—the sexual kind. Therapists finally act on years of inappropriate desire when the final session becomes anything but professional. From nuns breaking vows to brides cheating the night before their weddings, from politicians risking everything to doctors violating every oath—these twenty stories explore the darkest desires we're told to suppress. Wedding rings stay on. Consequences are real. The sex is brutal, explicit, and described in devastating detail. Size matters—twelve to sixteen inches of it—and these encounters leave permanent marks on bodies and souls. No redemption. No excuses. No limits. Just raw, forbidden passion that destroys everything in its path. Are you brave enough to read what shouldn't be written?