In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.
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“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

From Slave To Wolf Queen

“Impressed you how?” I said dryly, aggravated by this obvious ridicule.


Lazarus strolled towards me, his gaze sparkling devilishly while the edges of his lips lifted subtly. “You were quick on your feet; your reaction time is faster than I anticipated, and your combat skills are impressive.”


Narrowing my gaze, “I sense a but. You never give compliments without critics.”


He smiled, “You know me well,” taking a lock of my hair and gently playing with it. “Xander was a stroke of luck, what are you going to do if it’s someone of my size.”


I swallowed, a fluttering initiating in my chest at his actions, they were distracting, and I’ve noticed that he’s been doing it frequently. “Utilize my skills-“


Before I could speak, he grabbed my hand and twisted my body until my back was plastered against his chest. His grip tightened on my right hand, “Now what are you going to do?” he whispered into my ear that cause goosebumps to arise.


Chapter 39 His Bitch