Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. Xoxo. Beg me to take you," he murmured. His voice was rough, reverberating through my bones. "Beg me to bend you over that couch and fuck you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Please." He paused. Then, to my everlasting dismay, he pulled back, removing his hand from my pants and leaving a wet, cold trail behind. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, turning my knees to pudding. "No," he said. It took a second to register. "What?" I cried. "Why? You asked me to... why?" And he laughed. He laughed at me.
SOPHIA
"I don't understand why I still have to go to these boring events now
that I'm eighteen."
My mom shoots me an angry look and pushes me back into the dressing room, handing me an armful of new dresses to try before shutting the door on my pouty face.
"Most young women would kill to be invited to the places you get to go for your dad's work," she shouts through the door as if there's a foot of brick between us instead of a flimsy door that doesn't even reach the ground.
I tune her complaining out and turn to the stack of evening gowns. I know I sound like a spoiled brat, but they've been dragging me to these damn functions since I was old enough to smile and keep my mouth shut. Having a dad in politics is not a fate I would wish on anyone. Everyone always watches everything you do, and you're constantly surrounded by rich jackasses who can't do anything except lie and look at you like they're secretly undressing you in their minds. I always leave these ridiculous mansions feeling like I need a shower or a restraining order.
Looking at the dresses, I don't even bother trying on several of them. They look like some old lady went crazy with the bedazzle gun. Not my style, Mom. I'm no longer twelve, and you can't dress me like some damn little pageant girl. I stop when I get to the last one. It's black and has cutouts on either side and a long slit up the leg. This is more like it, I think as I quickly strip and try it on. It hugs me like a second skin and makes me feel sexy as fuck. This is going to look amazing in a pair of black stilettos. I turn, noticing the way the back is mostly open, revealing a shit ton of skin and making my round ass look perfect. I know this is going to earn me a bunch of old-man, lecherous stares, but I love how the dress makes me feel, sophisticated and sexy and like a real adult. Besides, fuck them. Am I not supposed to dress how I want just because they're a bunch of pervs?
I do another twirl in front of the mirror and smile. The fabric clings to my tits, making my rock-hard nipples painfully obvious. Maybe this function won't be as bad as all the others after all. At least I'll look good. I change back into my clothes and hand my mom the black gown when I step out.
"This is the one I want."
Her brow crinkles as she eyes it. "I didn't pick that one out. The sales lady must've added it by mistake. Are you sure you don't want something in a more cheerful color, maybe pink or purple?"
I bite back the groan I want to give and force another smile. "Nope. This one looks great. Thanks, Mom," I add, gently pushing her to the counter so we can pay and get the hell out of there. She eyes the gown again, so I say, "Mom, we need to get back home so we have time to get ready."
That pushes her ass in gear. The event isn't for another five hours, but I know how much she hates being rushed. "Okay," she says, already reaching for my dad's platinum card.
When we're back home, I grab my bags and rush to my room. Shutting the door, I sprawl on my bed and grab my e-reader. Plenty of time for me to read a couple of smutty shorts before I have to get ready. These stories are what keep me going, and they're certainly the only sex I've been getting.
Okay, okay, the only sex I've ever gotten.
Whatever, my book boyfriends are fucking hot. Who needs some groping teenage boy who doesn't know what the fuck he's doing when I can read and fantasize about sexy, older men who know exactly what to do with a pussy, and I'm not talking about older, decrepit, soft-bodied men. I'm talking about the ones with rugged good looks, broad shoulders, the type of hard body a man gets from decades of living and working hard, and skilled hands who know a woman's pussy even better than she does.
Maybe men like that don't even exist outside of books. It's a depressing thought, so I push it aside and start reading. It doesn't take long before my panties are soaked, and I'm slipping a hand into them and cupping my sopping wet pussy. I stay on my stomach, reading as I grind against the meaty part of my palm, my clit so achy I can barely stand it. My hips rock gently as I tease myself, reveling in the I'm seconds away from cumming sensation that I love so much. I'm so engrossed in what I'm doing that when my mom bangs on my door, I let out a startled yelp and quickly bury my e-reader under my pillow.
"Yeah?" I say, hoping she doesn't notice how breathless I sound. "I hope you're almost ready, dear. We need to leave in an hour."
Holy shit! How could I have let myself lose track of time like this?
"I'll be ready," I shout, biting back a frustrated groan and sliding my soaked hand out of my panties before jumping up and running to the shower. My pussy is screaming at me, but there's no time for that now. Besides, if I'm being honest, I like the way my little cunt is throbbing with need. It makes every movement feel so damn delicious like the smallest movement could push me over the edge. Even though I'm in a rush, I take the time to shave, wanting to look and feel my best in my new dress. When I'm smooth and clean, I wrap myself in a fluffy robe and work on my hair and face before slipping into the scandalous gown and heels.
EROTICA ROMANCE. RATED 18+. "Oh my God!" I moan. "Mmm. Your ass is so fucking tight, baby," he says to me. He starts thrusting in and out of me harder and faster. I throw my head back and moan louder. The sounds of our skin slapping together and our moans fill his little office. I wonder if maybe people can hear us. It's so fucking hot and I can feel myself getting closer again when he pulls out. I look back at him and he's grinning. He's fucking with me. He puts his cock up to my pussy and thrusts inside of me. Then he pulls out and does it again. I feel him stick a finger inside of my asshole. "Mmm," I'm loving this. Every damn second is pure ecstasy. I find that I already want to come again. He's fingering my asshole and fucking my pussy and the feelings mixed are amazing. I reach around in front of me and begin to rub my clit. "Are you gonna come again baby?" he asks. "Yes," I moan and rub myself faster. He starts fucking me harder and deeper, thrusting into me with all of his power. We're moving the desk and either he hasn't noticed or he just doesn't care.
*Warning* This book contains explicit content and it's rated 18+. They can be read as standalone as they are all age-gap romances. Hope y'all are ready for a pleasant ride. xoxo. "Oh, please, sir. Please, fuck me!" I screamed in delirium. The heat from him disappeared for a moment, and I was sad and scared. Where did he go? What had I done wrong now? But he returned, sheathed and ready to plunge into me. "Oh, thank God," I said breathlessly. He chuckled a little; slowly he slid in, adjusting me on the sink, aligning me to his dick. Each thrust sent me further into a manic need to come. Perhaps I was screaming, because his hand covered my mouth. For a brief moment, I was frightened. I was panting so hard it blocked my need to breathe, but then his voice was in my ear. "Come for me, bluebird."
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
A man like Travis Sinclair wants nothing more than a woman who matches his sexual prowess and is used to getting everything he wants. A cold-hearted billionaire ,he lives by one rule - no love, no commitment. Ayanna Davies isn't looking for a relationship. She's focused on her work and the financial security it brings. As a high end escort, her client is full of filthy rich men who are willing to pay handsomely for her services. But when Travis Sinclair becomes one of her clients, she begins twice about mixing work with pleasure. Not knowing that he is an old acquaintance whom she despises.
Caught in a web of betrayal, Nicole's life shatters in a single evening when her mother-in-law, Veronica, sets her up in an elaborate scheme. Blindsided, Nicole faces her husband Taylor's cold rage as he casts her out of his life and home, accusing her of infidelity and theft. As she tries to defend herself, her best friend, Sarah, adds another blow by denying their loyalty. "Please, Taylor, you have to believe me!" Nicole pleads, her voice breaking, but his icy response is a dagger to her heart. "I don't hate you, Nicole," he sneers. "I despise you." When Nicole reveals she's pregnant, she hopes for compassion, but it only fuels Veronica's determination to rid the family of her. After signing the divorce papers, a dejected Nicole wanders alone, where a brutal attack leaves her bleeding, helpless, and desperate to protect her unborn child. Six years later, Nicole returns from the ashes to inflict seven times the pains upon those who humiliated her and left her to die. "I'll make them pay so dearly that they'd regret ever been born!" She declares. This is a story of romance and revenge you don't want to miss!
Trigger warning!!! Intended for mature readers who enjoy morally complex, slow-burn, poseesive, forbidden, dark romance that pushes boundaries. ***EXCERPT*** Blood everywhere. Trembling hands. "No!" My eyes blurred. His lifeless eyes stared back at me, his blood pooling at my feet. The man I loved-dead. Killed by the one person I could never escape - my stepbrother. *** Kasmine's life was never hers to begin with. Kester, her stepbrother, controlled and monitored her every move. At first, it was all sweet and brotherly until it began to turn into an obsession. Kester was the Alpha, and his word was law. No close friends. No boyfriends. No freedom. The only consolation Kasmine had was her twenty-first birthday, which was supposed to change everything. She dreamt of finding her mate, escaping the sickening control of Kester, and finally claiming her own life. But fate had other plans for her. On the night of her birthday, not only was she disappointed that she wasn't mated to the love of her life, but she found out that her mate was none other than him - Her tormentor. Her stepbrother. She'd rather die than be mated to a man whom she had known as her big brother all her life. A man who would do just anything to make sure she was his. But when love turns to obsession, and obsession turns to blood, how far can one girl run before she realizes there is nowhere else to run to?
In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along.