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."
William Jones is known as the Lord of the Manor.
He's in his forties, but he looks twenty-five. Has been our landlord for years now, and my family haven't been able to foster a stable relationship with him. Would you blame him? His position is at the top, and we're below.
When he serves us an eviction notice after days of Papa playing him, we're helpless. We have nothing to offer in exchange for ridiculous amount of rent we owe.
Nothing but me.
Passion is a very funny business, and neither of us expected the surge of adrenaline that engulfs us from the very first touch. But William harbors demons far stronger than my angelic light. Will I truly teach the Lord how to love again? Or will I be defeated in this cold battle?
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1: Grace.
The Lord comes to collect today.
That's what my parents call our landlord, anyway. They've called him that for so long that it stuck. Now everyone in the neighborhood calls him that, crossing themselves behind his back. Or running and hiding in their apartments.
I don't run.
I'd never miss my chance to watch him move in that sleek, panther-like way, the master of everything he sees. When he climbs from the back of his limousine and buttons his suit coat with precise twists of his long fingers, I grow short of breath. Even his mean expression makes my hand wrap tightly around the branch of the tree where I'm perched across the street, sweat gathering between my breasts.
William Jones.
He owns every tenement building in this neighborhood and many, many high rises in others. On the first of every month, he swoops in to collect checks from the building manager's office where we send our rent. If the check for that month is short-and in this economy, it often is-someone usually ends up getting evicted. Thrown out on the street without a second thought.
That's why they call him the Lord. He has no conscience. No compassion.
My mother claims he has enough money to buy and sell us all.
And...I think that's when the fantasies started.
When I started imagining William...buying me.
Maybe he is the prince of darkness after all? Our priest is always talking about temptation at Sunday mass and how it can ruin a person's life. Lead them astray. Astray isn't exactly what I'd call the tremors that tickle along my inner thighs when William strides down the sidewalk, a king picking through the slums. What I feel is more like infatuation. Budding hunger. Curiosity.
At eighteen, I know nothing about men, especially powerful, potentially evil ones. I only know what the indecent flex of sinew in his back does to my body. His obvious strength makes me damp in places that aren't mean to be damp. Makes my nipples stiffen into pebbles, hard and achy and sensitive. And my body's response isn't even the most shameful part of all. No, it's the fact that I...have sympathy for him. Even though he's put so many of my neighbors out on the street.
Sure, his tight, cleanly shaven jaw makes it look like he's grinding nails with his teeth. Sure, his blue-black eyes are piercing and full of malice. Yes, he has no problem ripping people's homes out from under them. But every month when I watch him from my branch in the tree, I see more. I see the pain he's trying to hide.
Lord help me, it attracts me to him even more.
Across the street, William disappears into the building manager's office and I let out a stuttering breath, relieved to be hidden by branches and leaves. Because I can't stop my hand from coasting down over my breast, squeezing the mound through my ratty, second hand tank top. A gasp fires from my mouth and my fingers seek out my hard nipple eagerly, rubbing it side to side, agitating the flesh between my thighs even more.
My mother's words come back to me, as they often do.
He could buy and sell us all.
If the landlord bought me, what would he do with me?
Would he be mean? Or would he soften when we're alone?
In the dark, with our clothes off, would he climb on top of me and...perform the confusing act I've caught my brothers doing with their girlfriends? I can't imagine a hardened man like him accepting pleasure from anyone. Or letting his guard down for a single second. But I can't help thinking about it. A lot.
My diary sits on the tree branch beside me. My constant companion. I'm already itching to write my private musings about William down on paper, putting my thoughts in their secret place where no one can see them, thanks to the lock. Only I have the combination to open it-a must in our cramped three-bedroom apartment where six of us live. My mother, father, grandmother, two siblings and me. I'm the youngest and the only girl, so I share a room with my grandmother.
I'm jolted back into awareness when William leaves the building manager's office, prowling back toward his limousine, a suited man opening the door for him.
Someone is getting evicted today.
Oh yes. I can tell by William's impatient movements. The way he plows fingers into his jet-black hair, leaving it only slightly less than perfect. Right before he folds his tall, broad frame into the back seat, he stops and looks around with a terrifying frown, nearly catching me where I watch him from the tree. But I duck back just in time to escape his scrutiny, my pulse running wild from almost having those savage eyes on me.
My heart raps against my ribcage when he drives away a moment later-and I have to write in my diary now. I have to document all these confusing emotions the landlord inspires. My pen and these pages are my only escape from the constant chaos that is my apartment. Don't get me wrong, I love my siblings, even if they torture me. My parents are good people, too. But this diary is my saving grace. It's the one thing that is all mine. No one else's.
Hopping down from the tree, I flush to the roots of my blonde hair. Now that I'm standing, the dampness of my panties is impossible to ignore. Reminding myself that no one can see it, I run across the street into my apartment building. Up the stairs, past some kids playing games on their phones and into our place on the second floor. The six of us come and go so often throughout the day, we leave the door unlocked, so I merely bump it open with my hip-
And I draw to a halt.
My mother is crying on the couch, my father pacing in front of her.
"Why didn't you tell me you lost your job?" she weeps. "We could have made up the rent some other way, but now there's no time."
That's when I notice the bright yellow eviction notice resting on the coffee table and the blood in my veins turns to ice.
"Mom..." I whisper, bringing her head up, noticing me for the first time. "Are we being thrown out?"
She swipes at her tears. "We're going to think of something, sweetie."
As day turns to evening, however, my parents hit one dead end after another. None of our friends or family can loan us money. Nothing we own is valuable enough to pawn. My brothers can't convince their minimum wage jobs to advance them paychecks. We owe more than we could hope to scrape together on short notice and oh God, I've never heard my father cry before, but he does now.
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.
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.
"Richard will always be mine, Elena," The corner of her lips curled up into a sly smirk. Advancing closer, she leaned in to whisper against my ear softly. "Even if I have to kill you to have him to myself, I'll do it." - He's the man she's always loved. The man she's always felt strongly for. But he has eyes on one person only; her hot-shot surgeon sister. When her twin sister fails to show up on her wedding day, Elena Williams has no choice but to step up to the occasion and take her place - but marriage to the noble Richard Delmonte is both exciting and torturous. The elusive, established billionaire mogul and one of the most eligible bachelor of New York is the only man she's ever loved. The only man who's ever filled up her nights. Yet he's madly in love with her sister. Now that her dream has come true and she's married to him at last, Elena vows to do everything in her power to win him over. Even if it costs bringing down the heavens for him.
Joelle thought she could change Adrian's heart after three years of marriage, but she realized too late that it already belonged to another woman. "Give me a baby, and I'll set you free." The day Joelle went into labor, Adrian was traveling with his mistress on his private jet. "I don't care whom you love. My debt is paid. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." Not long after Joelle left, Adrian found himself begging on his knees. "Please come back to me."
Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.
Five years ago, he upped and left his wife without informing her. He had always felt unworthy. As a result, he decided to go and become a better man. It took him five whole years of daily hard work. When he was satisfied, he returned as a powerful and honorable man. He intended to start a family with his wife. But he got back to meet the greatest shocker of his life. He actually had a daughter!
He has all the traits that you wished for your dream man to have. Power, money, perfection, handsomeness and a body like a Greek God. But he's inlove. He's inlove with her. For him, she was the completion of his dream, a perfect wife and a mother to be with his children. He would give her everything including his own life. He would sacrifice his world for her. But she left him. She betrayed him. She broke his heart into pieces. And he turned into a cold, heartless, rude and an arrogant billionaire, who would do everything to show her that she's no longer important into his life. Even though the truth is the opposite of what he is doing. His heart still aching for her. And that's when he met me. I applied as his Personal Assistant to fulfill my bucket list of dreams. To explore my life and experience everything. He offered me a deal. He asked me to marry him just to show his ex that he already moved on. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "She's pregnant." He blurted out and i almost stumbled on where i am standing. I just gripped the backrest of the couch to support my weight. The pain creeping in my heart is unbearable but i managed to stay calm. "Wow! Congratulations!" I said faking my excitement as i remembered him saying... -cheating would not be the reason to break our marriage- of course i couldn't accuse him of this as 'cheating' because she was the real reason why we are pretending as a couple. He still love her. He's still inlove with her. And that's when i made the biggest decision in my life. Taking all my strength and a piece of my heart that still hanging on a thin rope... I left him. Taking also my biggest secret in me... that i've already fallen inlove with him. And somehow i learned a lesson; 'Loving someone who doesn't love you back isn't as hard as loving someone who still inlove with his ex and who only uses you to get her back again into his life..'
When they met again, Jason cast aside his paranoia and pride, warmly embracing Chelsey. "Please, come back to me?" For three years, she had been his secretary by day and his companion by night. Chelsey had always complied with his requests, like an obedient pet. However, when Jason declared his plans to marry another, she chose to stop loving him and to let go. But life took unexpected turns. His unyielding pursuit, her pregnancy, and her mother's greed gradually pushed her to the brink. Eventually, she endured tremendous suffering. Five years later, when she returned, she was no longer the woman she once was. Yet he had spiraled into five years of chaos.
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?"