Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin. ---------- "I made myself tight for Big Daddy," she leans up and whispers in my ear. "Every morning and night, I clenched it really tight, released, clenched, released..." As she says the words, her pussy performs the actions until I'm panting into the space between us, shudders wracking my body. "FUCK," I growl, sparks blinking in front of my vision. "You're going to get it now, little girl." All I can do after that is make her lose her mind. That's the only way to define it. I shove her legs open on the bed and do exactly as I threaten. I rail her like a dog, slamming my cock in and out of her wet blonde cunt. She screams and claws at me, begging me not to stop, rocking her hips up to meet my hectic drives, my grunts loud enough to be heard in the room next door, along with her calls of my name-and in this moment, I want that. I want everyone in this hotel to know I get to fuck this supple nineteen-year-old. I want them to know she primed her pussy for me so it would be extra snug. And I can't believe my luck. Whether I'm paying or not, I can't believe she's allowing my big, hairy body on top of her smooth, tiny one for a single second. That she's not only spreading her legs for me, but she's also moaning with pleasure, not put off by my aggression at all. No, it's making her hot. "Harder, Big Daddy. Punish me." I'm not sure how I stop myself from ejaculating. Maybe it's the intense need to stay locked inside her perfection for as long as possible, but somehow, I hold back. Long enough to pull out of Lia and flip her face down, yanking her hips up and back into my lap. I re=enter her with my purpling cock, our flesh slapping madly as I raw dog her from behind, employing not a hint of gentleness. She doesn't want gentleness, either. Not my girl. She tilts her hips back and asks for it harder. Faster.
Lia Amarie has been in love with Tristan Hemsworth ever since middle school when he moved in next door with his little son, who she instantly became best friends with. Now she's nineteen, and still very much lusting over the sexy, very much older billionaire Adonis's hot body - every beautiful, sinful inch. But to Tristan, Lia will always be off-limits. The little girl who always ran out to hug him whenever he came back from work. Can she rise above this silly perceived notion and show him that she can be a bad, naughty girl?
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1 - Lia.
"Nine...ten. Ready or not, Eric, I'm coming your way!" I yell, pulling off the black blindfold around my eyes, and sprinting out of the house, towards the garden. We'd played hide-and-seek a thousand times - mostly when we got tired of video games and wanted a little excitement aside from board games - and each and every time, Eric always hid in the garden, close to the thickest rose patch or in the abandoned den behind their huge mansion. Today, however, he wasn't in the garden, and I start getting worn out when I see that he's not in the abandoned den as well. Taking a detour back into the house, I stand still in the foyer and shut my eyes, listening. I hear things being moved about in the storeroom to my left, accompanied by intense giggling.
Smirking, I tiptoe towards the storeroom and, with a deep breath, kicked the door open, catching Eric right before he slipped into an old sack. "Aha! Gotcha!" I lunge at him, knocking him off his feet as we both fall onto an old mattress, wrestling each other and laughing. He tickled my sides, causing my arms to fly out, and flatten themselves over his broad, solid chest. I'll be lying to myself if I said I didn't know when they morphed from soft, baby flesh, to rock hard solid overnight. Just like how I'd traded my breasts - soft handballs - for big, supple oranges.
Ever since I met Eric in sixth grade, we'd gotten along like bread and butter. His house was my second home, and we were inseparable. Literally. His friends were my friends, and one of us hardly took a decision without informing the other of it first. Little wonder why everyone expected that, after high school, when we both will move to the city, we'll get married.I haven't given much thought to marriage. Ever. And Eric would be the last man I would want to spend the rest of my life with. I'm sure he feels the same way too. Our bond is entirely platonic and we do see each other more as siblings.
He pinches my upper arm now, and I yowl, aiming a kick for his balls which he dodges smartly. We roll about like bunnies for a while, before disentangling, our hands clasped together as we look up at the dusty ceiling, trying to catch our breaths, giggling.
"How did you know I was in here?" Eric asks, probing my side. I gasped, whirling away.
"Stop! I just... I didn't find you in the garden or the abandoned den so I..." I'm getting ready to slip out of his reach and kick him out of the bed with the heel of my foot when I hear the front door of the house open and close curtly. And I end up losing my focus and falling off the mattress instead.
He's home.
Six o'clock on the dot every evening. Not a minute more. Not a minute less.
It's him. The only man who can make my stomach flip.
Outwardly, I try to contain myself, try not to show a reaction that'd get Eric to suspect, but inside, I'm burning up like a paper that'd caught flame, rattling like a rickety old train on the railway and my stomach has been left on the dirty, metal floor.
Eric's father is home.
Tristan McHemma Hemsworth.
I catch sight of his pristine, black loafers as he passes by the storeroom, glancing in briefly and beaming when he espies me collapsed on the mattress, next to his laughing son. He shakes his head and moves on, towards the kitchen, barely giving me enough time to drink in his familiar features. Honestly, I've got to accept that it's impossible to soak in the sight of his big, sexy body. Those broad shoulders. Hard, thick, and impenetrable.
Everywhere. Even in his pants and boxer briefs, I'm sure.
Seriously, I'm not making this up. Last month, he'd taken Eric and I swimming to celebrate our birthdays - Eric and I were born in the same month and our dates were only three days apart so we also celebrated it together like twins. I hadn't envisioned that Tristan was fond of water, or that he'd strip out of his immaculate suit and join us in. I merely thought he'd wait for us at the parents' section, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw him swimming up to us in a tight, yellow underwear which did nothing but divulge just how huge, and hard his junk was. I knees wobbled under the water at the sight of his salt and pepper chest hair, the round slab of his stomach.
The painful outline of his thick, huge, veiny cock.
Each time the water molded his swim trunks to his lap, the enormous ridge in between his thighs made my belly so ticklish, I turned so red, Eric had to carry me out of the water, thinking I was having a sunburn.Tristan Hemsworth is forty-six, a single-father widow.
I'm nineteen.I've been silently, passionately, madly in love with him since I was roughly, thirteen.
I thought I'd get over him as I grow older, but honestly, no one compares. No one ever seems capable. What Tristan does to me in my dreams is more fulfilling than what any boy could hope to accomplish in real life. I'm not exaggerating, which is the reason why I don't even bother with them. College starts in a few months, and I'm already doubly sure the boys there won't measure up, either.
At the reminder of college - namely, the tuition fee needing to be paid - sadness clumps itself around my guts, making me groan as I rise to my feet, dusting myself off. I flash a breezy smile at Eric. "I'm going to grab some water from the kitchen. I'm so parched." I tuck a stray strand of my ginger red hair behind my ear and exhaled. "Want anything while I'm at it?"
"No," Eric says, standing up as well. He towers over me with a few, substantial inches. "You go ahead. I'll try and clean up this place. Pops gonna have me grounded if I don't.""Not if I can help as well. Be back in a bit."
On my way to the kitchen, my hands quiver as I tuck my skirt a little higher, and knot my tank top under my breasts. I flip my hair back, and put on a flirtatious smile. It's like a superpower - I've disarmed almost every man I've come across with my smile and suggestive body language. I'm known for being a smart flirt. A sly tease. They're wrong, but Godforbid they ever find out that it's all a facade. That I'm just pretending. Treading water. Try as much as they can to resist me, I've always gotten what I wanted.
And this time, I'm intent on making Tristan mine. I don't care what I have to do, or what it takes.You have no idea how it hurts to keep seeing someone who you desperately crave everyday. Getting a glimpse of what I can't have.
Pretending he's mine for a moment, like I always do. It's what I've brought myself to settle for.
But I've had enough. It's time I head in for the kill.
When I walk into the pristine kitchen where everything is literally stainless steel, I find Tristan leaning over the countertop, a cup of hot coffee in hand, scrolling through something on his phone, the frown on his face deepening every passing second. His mid-section is suspended as he puts his full weight on his elbows, those meaty fingers clasped around the gadget's shiny body. At the mere closeness of him, and the knowledge that we're alone, my nipples harden, skin prickling and pulsing.
"Hey there, Master Hem," I greet, pouting as I trail a finger down the wall of the archway. "What's making you so grumpy? Bad news?""It's nothing, really," he says dryly, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Hey, Lia. How are you?"
"You know I'm always better whenever you're around, Master," I sashay over to the counter where he is standing, propping a hip on the low cabinetry. "I always feel a little safer whenever you're home. You're all big and buff..." I trail off, swallowing.
He cuts me a brief look, but his eyes doesn't seem to see any of the eye candy I'm offering.
Ugh. Of course he doesn't.To him, I'm still the little girl who ran out to hug and welcome him whenever he came home from work.
"You know, Lia, you're safe whenever I'm not around too. You've got Eric who'll never let anything bad happen to you. The alarm system is also engaged and the gate electrified," he reassures absent-mindedly, flipping a paper and scrutinizing it's content. "How's everything at home? How's your father?"
Broke.
Destitute.
A selfish loser whose entire life is a lie.
"He's fine. He said to say hello," I lied. My father is barely home to acknowledge me these days. Not that I have a problem with it. Seeing his face around makes my stomach roil, and my blood boil, so I always shut myself in my room each time he's home. Which is hardly possible, considering he's always on the run, hiding, trying to dodge creditors.
Maybe it's the reminder that there's nothing left for me to use in paying my tuition fee that makes me feel a little carefree tonight. On a normal day, I'll simply flirt a bit with Tristan, and he'll send me back to Eric's room with a little pat on the head. But I need a distraction from the mess that has become my life. I want the comfort of his arms, the peace I'm sure they'll bring, now more than ever - and this is saying a lot because my panties has always been on fire for this man ever since I crossed puberty.I take my bottom lip into my mouth, wetting it, and allow my pulse build up and trip over itself. I'm in another element, another form - I'm another Lia as I slide between Tristan and the kitchen counter, the fly of his expensive suit pants dragging across my bare stomach.
Immediately, I'm pinned by that icy blue, hooded gaze. The one that made so many women fall at his feet. That made him a no-nonsense billionaire many times over in the business world. It's piercing. Sharp. Ruthless. It makes me almost lose my act. But I don't. I latch onto my courage with an extra ferocity, and reach up to loosen his black tie. "Don't you ever get tired of working, Big Daddy? You can't work so hard all the time. It's not good for you," I murmur, using the nickname I've been using for him since middle school. It's been a long while since I used it, and I'll be lying if I said it's not perfect for this big bear goodness of a man. "All work and no play makes Daddy a dull man. You've got to have a little fun sometimes, don't you think?""Lia..." he swallows hard, looking anywhere else but my face. I detect the stern warning in his tone, but I pay it no mind. "W-What are you doing?"
Professor Blaine is psychotic. It's there in the ruthless ways he punishes students. It's there in his eyes. In his movements. And years spent observing him has made Azira Sidorov develop a soft spot for the hot, intimidating professor. Blaine has been drawn to Azira ever since the first time he punished her in Grade nine. He loves the way her eyes lit up as his whips and spanks hit her skin. Loved the way she asked for more non-verbally too, jerking her hips backwards. Ever since that first encounter, he's been anticipating for more, but Azira is one student that seldom gets into trouble. Now in her final year, and tired of holding back, Azira is bolder and tries to reel him in by causing trouble so she could be sent to him for punishment. It's her own way of getting close to him. Her own way of making him realize that she can handle whatever depravity he's made of. But Professor Blaine is a cold-hearted beast, and he fears he might hurt Azira with his strange thrills. She should quit him before she ends up broken beyond repair. But she's too far gone. Professor Blaine is an addiction. And he is consuming her whole. NOTE: THIS IS A FOUR-BOOK SERIES: BOOK ONE: THE PROFESSOR WHO LOVES ME. BOOK TWO: THE PRINCIPAL WHO WANTS ME. BOOK THREE: THE BULLY WHO HATES ME. BOOK THREE: THE COACH WHO SAVES ME.
Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing yet another twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...burn. --------- "You think I'm a softie?" My voice is deceptively gentle when the rest of me is so hard. "Do you know why I pulled over?" "Why?" she says, seeming to hold her breath. Don't you dare. She's innocent. I say the words, anyway, however. I want to drive her away. Now. She caught me with my walls down and that is the ultimate invasion, made worse because I crave it happening again. "I pulled over because I know tight pussy when I see it." I frame her jaw with my right hand, tilting her blushing face up toward mine. "I'd like to fuck you on all fours, right here in the middle of the road, little girl. Rough as you can stand. Still think I'm a softie?" "No," she gasps, the green of her eyes deepening to a forest shade. "I don't." I ignore the regret stabbing me in the neck. "Good."
When her hot, overbearing, but charming boss gets a hold of her diary, and offers to grant her greatest wish for a child, Twenty-two-year-old Felicity Graham is furious, and hesitant. For one, he's her employer. Two, she wonders if he truly loves her, or if his offer is just based on his father's pressure on him to produce a heir. — Cold, reclusive Shawn Colby has hit a dead end. Undeniably Chicago's most eligible bachelor and a well-known business tycoon, he could have anything his heart desired. Women, cars, numerous houses if he wanted. When his overbearing father demands that he settle down and produce an heir, Shawn can't think of anyone else but Felicity — his calm, sweet personal assistant. When he gets hold of Felicity's diary, and finds out that her greatest dream is to have a child of her own, he propositions her. But Felicity is furious, and hesitant. Besides being Shawn's assistant, she's close to his family as well, and is aware of the pressure he's under to bring forth a heir. What happens when a business trip up-turns their lives? Can Shawn prove that he truly loves her for her, pressure aside?
After the mysterious death of her parents, Portia Esmeralda is bullied into a contract marriage by her two elder brothers who once loved her. But things start going pretty downhill when on her wedding day, the groom is nowhere to be seen and the guests are all killed. As well as her evil brothers. In order to end what would become a generational feud, and save her cousin, Portia agrees to marry Callahan Scarfoni — the monster who ruined her day and killed her terrible brothers. Callahan is a man scarred by his past and thirsty for revenge. His sole plan? Finish off the Esmeralda family till no one is left. Just like how they didn't spare his many years ago. But there's just one Esmeralda he just couldn't hurt, no matter what. Portia. She's his to tame. She's his possession, to own and protect.
New York's most eligible bachelor, Norman Rockwell has everything he could ever as for. Wealth, power, an insane amount of women falling at his feet, and peace of mind. But he's lacking something. One thing his heart desires so much. A baby. An heir. One he would leave everything he's worked for when he dies. He's been with so many women, and none are suitable. None have that flourish, that demeanor of being a mother. They're all after his money. After his dick. All except Sasha, his red-headed, smoking-hot, no-nonsense PA. She's the only one who could rein him in. Keep him in control. Make him smile. But she's not new to the array of beautiful women who normally grace his office. Convincing her to be his won't be easy, but he's willing to conquer her heart. No matter what it takes. She must be the mother of his child. He would have no other woman, but her.
The youngest prince of Melissa, Asher has been mated to the crown Alpha prince of Agravia, the first and most influential kingdom of Jo. Everyone said that he was lucky to be mated to Dominic, and Asher knew men - and women - who would give anything to take his place. But he didn't feel lucky. In fact, he loathed Dominic with every fiber of his being. Dominic is cold, calculative, aloof, and possessive. The mere sight of Asher irritates him, and the only time he opened his mouth to speak to him, was only to criticize. Asher will do anything to get away from their fated marriage - even if it meant bringing shame upon both kingdoms. But the line between a scorching hate and brewing passion can be thin, and when they blur, the emotions come tumbling down. Finally free of his monster of a husband, Asher finds out that he can't live without him. Is it sane to want the man who's done nothing but belittle you from the first moment he set his eyes on you? Is it messed up to crave his words, his touch, his cold presence? Asher knows his relationship with his mate is anything but healthy, yet he can't stop going back. And he didn't wish to stop. At all.
"It was just one night stand, and now I'm pregnant with triplets? Gosh!" Josephine Jade never thought that she would have to run away from her own family while pregnant. She was alone, without money, without connections, with three fetuses in her stomach. How can she survive? However, Josephine couldn't give up now, until she managed to reclaim her arbitrarily seized property and get back at everyone who tried to get rid of her. A sick child, a past crush that comes back, a mysterious eccentric man, and a family that hates her, will weave together the journey of Josephine Jade's new life. "You have no right to separate me from my children, you bastard! I will survive and you will submit to me. Just watch!"
Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...
After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ “I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"
When they were kids, Derek saved Norah's life. Years later, after Derek ended up in a vegetative state from a car crash, Norah married him without a second thought and even used her medical knowledge to heal him. For two years, Norah was devoted, seeking his affection and looking to settle her life-saving debt. But when Derek's first love returned, Norah, faced with divorce, didn't hesitate to sign. Despite being labeled as forsaken, few knew of her true talents. She was a race car driver, a famed designer, a genius hacker, and a renowned doctor. Regretting his decision, Derek begged for her forgiveness. Just then, a charming CEO intervened, embracing Norah and declaring, "Back off! She's my wife!" Taken aback, Norah blurted out, "What did you say?"