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.
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 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.
Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he never gave a damn about rules and laws, as he only liked to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
She was hurt. She was bullied and made fun of. And the only hope that kept her going was finding her mate. She has always been weak. Weak to the world. Why? Because she was a lantern. She didn't have a wolf. That's what everyone thought about her. When she found her mate, he wanted her to be his slut and not a wife. She might be an omega, but it doesn't mean she will take disloyalty and betrayal lightly. So she did something that no one in history ever did. She rejected an Alpha. "I, Alexis Clark, reject Brandon Sterling, the alpha of Black mist pack, and consider myself a free soul until I decide so."; Were her last words before she left that torturous place and became a rogue. A rogue that everyone was fearing and finding. Why? Because she was the rogue that has become one of the biggest problems of almost all the packs in the country. She was Alexis Clark. A rogue that rejected an Alpha, stealth food, kill other rogues, and more than that was living with humans and studying with them. What will happen when her case is given to the world's most dangerous alpha, Sebastian Sinclair, who has taken it upon himself to punish this rogue. The one who hated rogues and omega to a level that was beyond understanding. Why? Because his mate was an omega, who betrayed him with a rogue before dying. How will Alexis tackle this alpha, in whose College she was studying and living under hiding for almost a year? What will Sebastian do when he finds out the new girl he had been talking to is none other than the rogue omega that he had decided to kill? "To love you with all my might was my only wish, but you were the only one who gave me endless suffering. So today, I promise myself to not fall for anyone."; A simple saying that both Alexis and Sebastian had vowed upon. Will they be able to find their love amidst all these problems?
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.
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."
Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.