Sansa

Summer Taylor's life turned upside down when she discovered her fiancé's betrayal with her own sister. As if to torment her further, her own family drugged her and sent her to a stranger's bed for a $200 million investment. But Brandon appeared like a dark angel and saved her. He carried her to safety in his arms as the aphrodisiac coursed through her system.
As Brandon settled her into the car, Summer's wandering hands sought relief from the burning heat. Every point of contact—her tits pressed against his chest, her soaked pussy grinding against his thigh—crackled with raw, electric hunger.
“Stop that,” Brandon commanded, but she only arched closer.
“I’m burning up,” she pouted, writhing against him, her hips bucking as her exploring fingers slid lower, palming the thick, hard bulge straining against his pants. His sharp inhale fueled her, and his grip on her wrist tightened, firm yet gentle, as his cock twitched under her teasing touch.
Ignoring his warning, she buried her face in his neck, sucking hard, leaving wet, red marks as she trailed sloppy, heated kisses up his jaw.
She caught his earlobe between her teeth, biting down, reveling in his ragged gasps as she ground her dripping cunt harder against him. His hands clamped onto her waist, fingers digging into her flesh, caught between shoving her off and yanking her tighter against his throbbing erection.
For one electrifying moment, he gave in, his lips crashing against hers, tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, fucking it with slow, deliberate strokes. She moaned into him, her pussy clenching as she rubbed herself harder against his thigh, chasing release.
But Brandon is practically also a stranger to her. After she got sober, she has to wonder: Did she escape one trap only to walk willingly into another?

One Night. One Mistake. One Lifetime of Consequences.
I thought I was waiting for love. Instead, I got fucked by a beast.
My world was supposed to bloom at the Moonshade Bay Full Moon Festival—champagne buzzing in my veins, a hotel room booked for Jason and me to finally cross that line after two years. I’d slipped into lacy lingerie, left the door unlocked, and lay on the bed, heart pounding with nervous excitement.
But the man who climbed into my bed wasn’t Jason.
In the pitch-black room, drowned in a heady, spicy scent that made my head spin, I felt hands—urgent, scorching—searing my skin. His thick, pulsing cock pressed against my dripping cunt, and before I could gasp, he thrust hard, tearing through my innocence with ruthless force. Pain burned, my walls clenching as I clawed at his iron shoulders, stifling sobs. Wet, slick sounds echoed with every brutal stroke, his body unrelenting until he shuddered, spilling hot and deep inside me.
"That was amazing, Jason," I managed to say.
"Who the fuck is Jason?"
My blood turned to ice. Light slashed across his face—Brad Rayne, Alpha of Moonshade Pack, a werewolf, not my boyfriend. Horror choked me as I realized what I’d done.
I ran away for my life!
But weeks later, I woke up pregnant with his heir!
They say my heterochromatic eyes mark me as a rare true mate. But I’m no wolf. I’m just Elle, a nobody from the human district, now trapped in Brad's world.
Brad’s cold gaze pins me: “You carry my blood. You’re mine.”
There is no other choice for me but to chose this cage. My body also betrays me, craving the beast who ruined me.
WARNING: Mature Readers Only