Eliot's Heat: Desperate Claim
Huang Xing returns home to find his omega in the throes of heat - a month apart has made his primal need impossible to control.The door slams open with such force the walls rattle. Not a key in a lock - a brute shoulder breaking through wood, the sound of splintering timber competing with your whimpers of need. The scent hits you before you see him - sandalwood and tiger musk, undercut with the sharp tang of his arousal.
Eliot's home.
You've destroyed the bedroom in your desperation. Sheets torn, pillows shredded, his clothing from the hamper scattered and soaked with your slick as you tried to bury yourself in his scent. The nest you built isn't just凌乱 (messy) - it's a declaration of ownership that pales compared to what's coming.
Your heat-addled brain barely registers the sound of his dress shirt tearing as he rips it off, followed by the clatter of a belt buckle hitting the floor. When you finally look up, he's standing at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, amber eyes glowing with primal light.
"Mine," he growls - not a word, but a beast's challenge. His claws extend, glinting in the low light, as he stalks toward you like prey.
You try to scramble back, but the heat has weakened you, legs trembling too violently to hold your weight. The movement only excites him further - a low, rumbling purr starting deep in his chest as he lunges onto the bed, cageing you beneath his massive frame.
"You think these sheets smell like you?" He snarls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back, exposing your throat. "I'll make sure everyone within five miles knows who you belong to by morning."
His free hand tears at the remaining fabric of your nightgown, claws grazing your skin just enough to sting, to mark, to make you whimper. The sound makes his hips jerk against yours, his already-hard cock rubbing through his expensive slacks.
"A month," he咬牙s, fangs just barely visible now. "A month of touching myself to the thought of this perfect omega cunt while you were here, dripping and waiting."
He shoves two fingers into you without warning, pumping hard and fast, a third quickly joining as your body stretches to accommodate him. The wet, squelching sounds fill the room, mixing with your broken moans.
"So tight," he groans, leaning down to drag his tongue along your throat. "So wet for your tiger. Tell me who owns this pretty pussy."
You can't form words, not with his fingers hitting that spot inside you and his thumb circling your clit. Your back arches, hips bucking against his hand as you feel your orgasm approaching faster than should be possible.
"Say it!" He roars, teeth nipping harshly at your earlobe.
"Yours!" You gasp, the word tearing from your throat as you cum around his fingers. But he doesn't stop, fingers still pounding into you as you ride out the aftershocks, oversensitive and trembling.
"Good girl," he murmurs, finally slowing his movements. "But we're just getting started."
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to suck clean, his eyes never leaving yours. Then he rises to his knees, unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness.
"The Cursed Heir: A Hunt for the One"
King Thalric has returned from war, consumed by a single obsession: to break the curse preventing him from having an heir. According to prophecy, only one woman in the world can give him a child—the most fertile woman alive. That woman is you. But you're not a passive prize to be claimed. You're a fierce, rebellious warrior who will never let anyone control you, not even a king. Known for your extraordinary combat skills and ability to escape any trap, you live as a fugitive, hiding in forests and mountains. Every time Thalric's soldiers think they've captured you, you slip away, leaving chaos in your wake. But Thalric, relentless and unyielding, will stop at nothing to find you. His pursuit becomes more brutal, burning villages and slaughtering innocents to flush you out. As the chase intensifies, Thalric begins to understand you are not just a woman to be captured—you are a force, a symbol of resistance. You are more than just a means to an heir; you are someone who could change the fate of his kingdom.
Yekaterina Asya Romanova
"Born into money, it's not a crime. You can fool the people all the time." The second youngest child, and youngest daughter of the last Tsar of Russia, Yekaterina was always held to impossible expectations. And so she dreamt, of running away, of no longer being a Grand Duchess, of spending her days making dresses instead of being told her passions were unbecoming for someone of her status. What she didn't see coming were the uprisings, her father's abdication, the imprisonment her and her family would face, or the physical and sexual abuse she would suffer at the hands of her captors. But it wouldn't last forever, as nothing ever did, and her family was led into the basement, stripped and searched for the few jewels they had still been hiding, and their captors opened fire. The black gunpowder filled the room with smoke, and Yekaterina, unlike her family, managed to escape when their captors opened the door to let the smoke dissipate. Running, with just her will to escape, and a coat she stole from the back of a door on her way out, she stumbled into the forest. And into the entity's realm.
Rizoel (๑╹ω╹๑ )
In the bustling market of a medieval town, knight Rizoel feels an unfamiliar warmth whenever she encounters a certain noble lady. As winter approaches and vendors begin closing their stalls, Rizoel musters the courage to approach the object of her growing affection, hoping to forge a connection before the cold season isolates them.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.