TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING

I bought expensive red lingerie to save my marriage.

When I got home on Christmas Eve, I found my husband on his knees with his face buried between another man's legs.

I ran. Bought a plane ticket to anywhere. Ended up crying in the airplane bathroom where the most gorgeous man I've ever seen found me. One thing led to another, and he bent me over that sink and gave me the best sex of my life.

Turns out he's Knox Volkov. The Lycan King. My husband's boss. The most powerful and ruthless alpha alive.

When we landed, he looked me dead in the eye and said he had a proposition for me. One that would let me get revenge on my cheating husband while experiencing pleasure I never knew existed.

The catch? Be his fake girlfriend for one week at the Christmas Summit. For seven days, I'd be completely his.

I should have said no. But I was hurt and angry and desperate to feel wanted again.

So I said yes. But on one condition—he has to make me come every single time. He agreed with a wicked smile.

But what happens when the fake starts feeling real? When I'm falling for a man who's sworn he'll never love or take a mate again?

When his rules are no emotions, no strings, no forever—but my heart doesn't care about his rules?

What happens when the seven days end and he's supposed to let me go?

TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING (18+)

WARNING: THIS IS A CHRISTMAS EROTICA WITH SO MUCH SMUT AND JUST ENOUGH PLOT. GET THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS.

: BEND ME OVER, STRANGER

EMBER’S POV

I bought expensive red lingerie to save my marriage.

Christmas Eve. The one day of the year when miracles are supposed to happen. When love is supposed to triumph. When broken things are supposed to become whole again.

I clutched the shopping bags in my trembling hands. The lingerie cost half my savings, but I didn’t care. It was red lace and silk ribbon, promised to reignite the fiery passion of love and sex.

Red was Gale’s favorite color. His assistant mentioned it casually last week over coffee, and I could see the pity in her eyes when she looked at me. Everyone knew. The entire pack whispered about it behind my back.

“Poor Ember. Eight months and her husband still won’t touch her. What kind of omega can’t even satisfy her own mate?”

Gale had insisted I spend the day at the spa. “Relax, baby. Get your nails done. I need you perfect for tomorrow’s Christmas gala.”

The word baby had made my heart leap with pathetic hope. Maybe things would finally change. Maybe tonight he’d want me again.

I pulled into our driveway, my hands gripping the bags so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tonight had to work. It had to. The moment I opened the front door, I knew something was wrong.

The smell hit