Oops! My Celibate Snake Crawled Into My Bed

I rescued three dying wolf pups, raised them into men, gave them names, and even gave them my last name.​ But once they grew up, they took turns crawling into my bed every night—and while I lay too exhausted to move, they discussed how much further they could push me before I finally handed them over to my beautiful, adored sister.​ They thought I would never have the courage to give up all three.​ So I did exactly that.​ In exchange, my sister gave me her celibate weresnake—a cold, dangerous man who refused to let anyone touch him and was supposedly incapable of desire.​ She warned me that he could never be tamed.​ But the moment the door closed behind us, his pupils narrowed into slits, and his icy tail snapped around my waist, dragging me against his chest.​ During the day, he barely spoke to me.​ At night, he slipped beneath my blankets, coiling his tail from my ankle to my waist and locking me against him until morning.​ I thought he only wanted my body heat.​ Then his lips brushed my ear, and he whispered,​ “Love me, Master.”​ And that was when the three werewolves who had thrown me away began coming back—one by one—begging me to take them home.