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

Lazarus pushed off the bed, standing at the edge. He resembled the god of death, illuminated by darkness. “Seems like a fair price.” He licked his lips, the action predatorial and seductive. “What’s it going to be Bellatrix?”


Trepidation slithered down my spine, fire coursing through my veins. My heart pounded viciously, thundering in my ears. Swallowing thickly, ignoring the anxiety simmering at the surface. “Is that all you want?” I fired back, my frustration spilling over. “If you want to fuck, just say it.”


He chucked darkly, gazing down at me with shadowed allure. His touch was feather-light as they danced along my ankle, sending shivers through me. “Pretty girl, if I wanted to fuck you then you would be on your hands and knees by now.” His tone laced with dark charm and smooth whiskey, “I want to watch you spread these pretty thighs and show me how wet you are for me.”


Chapter 52 Play With Yourself