Wicked As Flame (I)

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• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   Split (II)

  The moment his seed spilled into her, everything should’ve stopped.But it didn’t.The heat still pulsed between them, raw, unrelenting.Jake hadn’t moved, hadn’t pulled out. His cock remained thick and twitching inside her, a reminder of what they’d done.And of what couldn’t be undone.Daphne’s breath ghosted across his lips. Her hands still clung to his rain-soaked shirt, her legs wrapped around his waist like she didn’t want to let him go. Or maybe she wanted him to take her again. Harder. Rougher.She looked up at him, flushed and glowing in the low amber light of the library.“Someone heard us,” she whispered.Jake’s jaw ticked. His eyes flicked to the heavy oak door behind her.“I know.”His voice was a growl, low and dangerous. He still hadn’t moved.“Who?” she asked, heart slamming against her ribs.“Could be your father’s guards.” He finally pulled out of her with a soft hiss, his cock glistening, flushed, thick with their slick release. Her core clenched at the loss. He tuc

• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   split (I)

  The storm split open the night like a jagged scar. Rain battered the stained-glass windows of the George estate, where old wealth lingered like incense. Daphne sat curled in the velvet armchair of the west wing library, fingers brushing the edge of a wine glass, listening for thunder and secrets.And then she heard him.The heavy thud of his boots against marble. Smooth. Measured. Lethal.Jake Henton didn’t knock.He never did.He simply appeared, like a curse summoned by lust or fate.“You’re not supposed to be here,” Daphne said without turning. Her voice wasn’t steady, but it held the challenge of a girl tired of being watched behind lace curtains.Jake’s voice cut through the space like a drawn blade. “Neither are you, little storm.”She turned slowly. Her black silk robe, thin as breath, clung to her thighs. Her curls fell wild over her bare shoulders. Jake stood by the doorway, dripping from the rain, black shirt soaked and molded to his chest, every muscle carved from darkness.

• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   Blades and Vows

  The scent of burnt opium and candle wax clung to the velvet drapes as Melvina stepped into the blood-red hall of the Black Market auction. She wore a high-slit shadow-blue dress, one shoulder bare, the other bruised from last night’s narrow escape from the Varro Clan. Her pulse fluttered in her throat like a trapped bird.This wasn’t where healers belonged. But tonight, she wasn’t Melvina the healer. She was Melvina Lilo, the woman who needed protection from every man that wanted to own her rare blood.And the only way out was to sell her secrets to the devil himself.She didn’t expect the devil to come in the form of Chase Stokes.He leaned against a wrought iron column near the private lounge, watching her as though he’d known her in another lifetime. His black shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease a crossbow tattoo over his heart. Every movement was controlled. Calculated. Dangerous. The way he held his drink, his ringed fingers curling possessively around the glass, sent a sha

• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   Owned by Rain (III)

  Clarissa should’ve run.The moment Rain said “I bought the floor for us,” she should’ve screamed. Slapped him. Cursed his name. But she didn’t.Because she couldn’t.She was already his.Somewhere between the first brutal kiss and the second time he made her cry from orgasm, her soul had split open and whispered yes.Rain Gaslow wasn’t a man built for love. He was ruin dressed in cashmere. Madness disguised in silk sheets and crystal bourbon tumblers.And now he was hers.She sat cross-legged on the bed the next morning, wearing only his shirt. The collar hung open, baring her collarbone, already marked by faint bruises and teeth.Rain stood by the window, back turned. He hadn’t said a word since sunrise.Clarissa watched the muscles shift beneath his tattooed skin. Every line of him was drawn in violence and restraint. He was silent, but the storm in his body brewed louder than thunder.He finally spoke. “My father killed my mother.”Clarissa blinked. “What?”Rain turned. His eyes we

• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   Owned by Rain (II)

  Clarissa woke to silk sheets and a headache made of sin.Her body ached in the deep, delicious way that only came from being used. Claimed. Ruined.The room was dark and still, save for the faint hum of rain against glass. She stirred. The slightest movement made her thighs clench, sore from where he’d taken her against the wall like a starving beast.She reached for her dress, or what was left of it—just torn satin discarded like an apology across the room.Rain Gaslow wasn’t beside her. But his scent was everywhere: smoke, cedar, a bite of something darker.The clock on the wall ticked. It was nearly 6 a.m.Leave now. Before he wakes up. Before this becomes something else.Clarissa slid off the bed quietly, bare feet padding over marble. Her skin still glistened where he’d finished on her. She didn’t wipe it away.The door was cracked. She tiptoed into the hallway.No guards. No cameras.Just her stupid heartbeat pounding as she reached the elevator.The button didn’t work.She trie

• Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)   Owned by Rain (I)

  Rain Gaslow: a dark, dangerously intelligent billionaire with a reputation that drips sin. Unpredictable. Possessive. Utterly unhinged.Clarissa Pitoff: a broke art curator hiding wounds deeper than her debt. Clever, stubborn, and never meant to catch his eye.Warning: Explicit, dark themes, mature content, intense language....Clarissa Pitoff wasn’t supposed to be at that party.She was wearing a thrifted black satin dress with a split she’d sewn herself and heels that pinched her toes. Her invitation was forged—badly but she got in, unnoticed in the chaos of New York’s elite drunk on themselves.The Gaslow Estate pulsed with darkness. Not just because of the midnight lighting or the orchestra thundering something classical and angry. It was in the air. The marble. The gold. The kind of wealth that didn’t just buy things, it erased people.Clarissa didn't belong. And yet, he saw her.She had wandered into the side gallery, hoping for silence. Her fingers skimmed the frame of a su