LOGIN(THE PENTHOUSE BETRAYAL II)
He didn’t ask permission. He simply cupped the back of my neck and kissed me. It wasn’t gentle. It was possession. His mouth claimed mine with commanding heat, tongue sliding deep, tasting me like he’d been starving for years. I moaned into him, fingers curling into the lapels of his suit. He tasted like expensive scotch and pure masculine power. Adrian broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my throat, nipping at my pulse point. The sensation of his wet lips on my skin made me whimper. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he growled against my skin. “Use your words. I want to hear how badly you need Daddy to fuck the memory of my son out of this pretty cunt.” I shivered violently. The dirty talk hit me like lightning straight to my clit. “I want you to ruin me,” I breathed. “On this bed. Make me scream your name so loud the entire city knows who I belong to now.” Adrian’s low, satisfied chuckle vibrated through my chest. “Good girl.” He walked me backward toward the bed—the same bed still rumpled and smelling faintly of betrayal. With one smooth motion he untied my silk wrap dress and let it pool at my feet. I stood before him in nothing but black lace lingerie and sky-high heels. Adrian’s eyes darkened with raw hunger. “Fuck, look at you.” He palmed my full breasts through the lace, thumbs circling my already hard nipples. “My son never deserved these. Never deserved any of you.” He unclasped my bra with practiced ease, letting my heavy breasts spill free. Lowering his head, he sucked one stiff peak into his hot mouth, tongue flicking mercilessly while his hand kneaded the other. I arched with a whimper, fingers threading through his silver hair. Adrian spent long, luxurious minutes worshipping my tits—licking, sucking, biting just hard enough to make me gasp—until my nipples were swollen and glistening, my pussy throbbing and soaked. Only then did he drop to one knee. He hooked his fingers in my lace thong and dragged it down my legs slowly, eyes locked on mine the entire time. “Step out, baby.” I did. Naked now except for the heels. Adrian spread my thighs with strong hands and leaned in. His first long, slow lick from my dripping entrance to my swollen clit made my knees buckle. “Oh my God—” “That’s right,” he murmured against my soaked folds. “This pussy is mine now. So fucking wet already. You’ve been craving a real man, haven’t you?” He devoured me. No hesitation. No teasing. Adrian Beckett ate my pussy like a starving man at a feast—broad, flat strokes of his tongue, then tight circles around my clit, then sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth while two thick fingers slid deep inside me, curling against my G-spot with devastating accuracy. My hands flew to his hair, hips grinding against his face as filthy, wet sounds filled the penthouse. “Fuck— Adrian— oh shit, your tongue—” He pulled back just enough to growl, “Call me what you really want to call me when I’m between your legs.” “Daddy,” I moaned shamelessly. “Please, Daddy— don’t stop—” Adrian groaned in approval and doubled down. He fucked me with his fingers hard and fast while his mouth sealed around my clit, sucking rhythmically. The pressure built impossibly fast. “I’m— I’m gonna—” “Come on my tongue, sweetheart. Let me taste how much better I am than my worthless son.” The orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave. I screamed, thighs clamping around his head as I came hard, gushing onto his tongue and chin. Adrian didn’t stop— he licked me through every pulsing wave, drawing it out until I was shaking and whimpering. Only when I was limp did he rise, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were feral. “On the bed. On your back. Legs spread. I want to watch every inch of my cock disappear into this greedy little cunt.” I obeyed instantly, climbing onto the bed that was supposed to be my marital bed. I spread my thighs wide, heels still on, pussy glistening and twitching from my first orgasm. Adrian stripped with deliberate slowness. Jacket. Vest. Shirt. Every inch revealed carved, powerful muscle dusted with silver hair across his broad chest. When he finally shoved his trousers and boxers down, my mouth went dry. His cock was massive. Thicker and longer than Damien’s by a noticeable margin. Heavy, veined, with a wide, flushed head already leaking precum. It curved slightly upward, promising to hit places his son never could. “Like what you see, baby?” Adrian stroked himself slowly, spreading the precum over the head. “This is what a real man brings to the table. Gonna stretch this tight pussy so good you’ll never want anyone else.” He crawled over me, caging me in with his powerful body. The head of his cock nudged my slick entrance. “Beg for it.” My voice was wrecked. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me. Ruin me. I need your cock so bad—” Adrian thrust forward in one smooth, relentless stroke. My back arched off the bed with a broken cry as he buried every thick inch inside me. The stretch was exquisite, borderline painful in the most delicious way. He bottomed out, heavy balls pressed against my ass, and held still, letting me feel every pulsing inch. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine. “So much tighter than I imagined. This pussy was made for me.” He started moving. Slow, deep rolls of his hips at first—pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt, grinding against my clit with every thrust. The wet, obscene sounds of my soaked pussy taking his cock filled the room. My nails raked down his back. “Harder— please— fuck me harder, Daddy—” Adrian’s control snapped beautifully. He hooked my legs over his elbows, folding me in half, and started pounding me. Deep, brutal strokes that made the bed slam against the wall. Every thrust knocked the breath from my lungs. “That’s it— take Daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he growled, voice rough with lust. “This pussy belongs to me now. Say it.” “It’s yours— oh fuck— my pussy is yours, Daddy!” He fucked me through my second orgasm like it was nothing—kept hammering into me as I clenched and gushed around his pistoning cock, my screams echoing off the glass windows. Adrian flipped me onto my stomach without pulling out, yanked my hips up, and took me from behind like an animal. One hand fisted in my hair, the other spanking my ass hard enough to leave red handprints. “Look at you— dripping down my balls. My son could never fuck you like this, could he?” “No— never— only you— fuck, I’m cumming again—” My third orgasm ripped through me so hard my vision whited out. I squirted around his cock, soaking the sheets beneath us. Adrian pulled out suddenly, flipped me onto my back again, and straddled my chest. “Open.” I obeyed, tongue out. He stroked his glistening cock twice and came with a deep, guttural groan—thick, rope after rope of hot cum painting my tongue, my lips, my tits. I swallowed what I could, the rest dripping down my chin obscenely. But Adrian wasn’t done. He was still rock hard. He slid back down my body, pushed my legs wide again, and sank back into my cum-slick pussy in one thrust. “Round two, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow. Until every time you sit down for the next week you remember exactly whose cock ruined this pretty cunt.” He fucked me for hours. Missionary while whispering filthy praise. Doggy while spanking my ass raw. Me riding him reverse cowgirl, his hands guiding my hips as I bounced on his thick cock, screaming his name. He made me cum so many times I lost count—on his tongue again, on his fingers, on his cock while he choked me lightly with one powerful hand. At one point he carried me to the windows, pressed my naked body against the cool glass overlooking New York City, and fucked me standing up while the entire skyline bore witness. By the time the sky began to lighten with dawn, I was a wrecked, cum-drenched mess—covered in bite marks, handprints, and Adrian’s seed leaking from my swollen, well-fucked pussy. Adrian lay beside me, still inside me, lazily grinding as aftershocks trembled through my body. He brushed damp hair from my forehead and kissed me softly, a shocking contrast to the brutal claiming he’d just delivered. “You’re mine now, Tessa,” he murmured, voice low and possessive. “No more games. No more boys pretending to be men. I’m going to spoil you, fuck you, and protect you like you deserve. And my son? He’s going to spend the rest of his life knowing exactly what he lost.” I smiled, exhausted, sated, and utterly claimed. I turned my head and kissed the silver stubble on his jaw. “Good,” I whispered. “Because I never want to belong to anyone else again.” Adrian’s cock twitched inside me, already hardening for another round. “Then get on your knees, sweetheart. Daddy’s not finished ruining you yet.”Chapter 4I saw Ethan the second he stepped through the compound gates. Confident strides, shoulders back, that smug look on his face like he still owned the world. Like he hadn’t been balls-deep in my maid of honor three nights ago while staring me down. My stomach twisted, but not with pain anymore. With something darker. Hotter. I was already moving before he even reached the front steps.I knew where Adrian would be. His study. The same room where this had all started. I pushed the door open without knocking.He was dressing. Shirt half-buttoned, belt in his hands, that broad chest still bare. Silver at his temples catching the light. He looked up, eyes darkening the moment he saw me.I didn’t speak. I crossed the room fast, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard. Tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting the coffee and the man I’d become obsessed with. My hands went straight to his belt, yanking it open, shoving his pants down just enough.“Bend me over the desk,” I breathed against
Chapter 3I couldn’t take it anymore. Three days. Three fucking days since Adrian last used my body while I was out cold, and the ache between my legs had turned into a constant, throbbing need. I paced the townhouse like a caged animal, my pussy wet and empty, clenching around nothing every time I remembered his thick cock stretching me. I touched myself constantly but never let myself cum. I wanted it to build. I wanted to be desperate enough to do anything.That night I waited in his bedroom, heart hammering. The clock ticked past midnight, then one, then two. I was naked already, skin hot, nipples hard, my shaved cunt slick and dripping down my thighs. When I finally heard the front door open and his heavy footsteps, I stayed hidden in the shadows of his room. He looked exhausted—tie loose, jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes half-closed. He didn’t even turn on the light. Just kicked off his shoes, dropped onto the massive bed face-up, and groaned as he passed out almost instantl
Chapter 2The maid entered quietly the next morning. She carried a heavy silver tray and set it on the table beside the bed without a sound. Her eyes stayed low, respectful, the way people looked at someone who mattered.“Miss Tessa,” she said, voice soft. “Lord Adrian gave orders before he left. We are to treat you like royalty. He is out for the day, but every need of yours must be met. Whatever you want—food, bath, anything—just say.”I pushed myself up against the pillows. My body ached in the best way. Between my legs I still felt the stretch from the night before, and when I shifted I could feel the dried stickiness on my thighs. I remembered it all. The wet heat of his tongue dragging over my pussy while I was gone. The slow, deep push of his cock opening me up. My body had clenched around him even though I couldn’t move. I had liked it. More than liked it. I had wanted to stay like that forever—limp, used, full of him.Later that afternoon, I looked at the maid while she poure
STORY TEN: THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTIONChapter 1I saw them the second I stepped onto the balcony for air. My silk gown whispered around my legs, the engagement ring heavy on my finger. Ethan, my fiancé, had his pants down and was balls-deep in Rachel, my maid of honor. Her back was against the stone railing, legs wrapped around him, dress bunched at her waist. He was thrusting hard, grunting with every push, her moans loud even over the music coming from inside the ballroom.My stomach dropped. I froze. He didn’t see me at first. Then his eyes lifted and locked on mine. He didn’t stop. He just kept fucking her, staring at me like I was the one who had done something wrong.I turned and ran. Straight through the crowd, past the shocked faces, out the front doors of the Mayfair hotel. I didn’t have my coat. The night air was cold on my bare arms, but I didn’t feel it. I just kept walking fast in my heels until the lights of the ballroom were far behind me.I knew where to go. Eth
PART TWORoman’s mouth was ravenous. He sealed his lips fully around Elodie’s dripping pussy and sucked hard, drawing her swollen folds and creamy arousal into his hot mouth with a filthy, wet sound. His tongue flattened and dragged up her slit in one long, possessive stroke, tasting every drop of her wedding-day cum.“Fuuuck, Mr. Ashford…” Elodie moaned, her gloved hands flying to his silver-streaked hair, gripping tight as she ground her cunt against his face.He growled against her sensitive flesh, the vibration making her clit throb. Then he speared his thick tongue straight into her tight hole, fucking her with it—deep, relentless strokes that made squelching noises echo inside the limousine. His nose pressed against her swollen clit, rubbing in tight circles while his tongue curled and thrust, scooping out more of her slick cream and swallowing it greedily.Elodie’s back arched, her full tits straining against the bodice of her gown. “Oh my god—your tongue is so deep! Yes, tongu
STORY NINE: THE WEDDING THAT CHOSE THE FATHER PART ONEElodie stood before the tall gilded mirror in the bridal suite of the opulent London hotel attached to Westminster, her white wedding gown hugging every curve. The dress was a masterpiece—silk and lace clinging to her full breasts, cinched waist, and the lush swell of her hips before flowing into a dramatic train. She had dreamed of this day for years. Today it felt like ashes in her mouth.Tears stung her eyes as she clutched her phone, replaying the video sent just that morning: Daniel, her groom, in this very chapel’s dressing room, passionately kissing her stepsister while his fingers pumped deep into the other woman’s cunt. The wet sounds, the moans, the way her stepsister had spread her legs wider and begged for more, it was burned into Elodie’s mind.She wiped her tears, touched up her lipstick, and smiled coldly at her reflection. No more crying. Today, I burn it all down.A soft knock. A smiling attendant announced it wa
(THE WALL STREET WIDOW III)I obeyed. My hips rose and fell, taking him deep with every downward slam. The chair creaked beneath us. My tits bounced wildly in his face as I rode him harder, faster, chasing that building pressure. Zephyr’s hands gripped my ass, spreading my cheeks, one finger teasin
(THE WALL STREET WIDOW II)Three days later, the Harrington family mansion on the Upper East Side was draped in black. Mourners filled the grand rooms — Wall Street titans, socialites, distant relatives. I moved through it all like a ghost in my elegant black dress, accepting condolences with quiet
STORY TWO(THE WALL STREET WIDOW I)I stood in the middle of our sprawling Tribeca loft, voice cracking with fury as I waved the foreclosure notice in Tyler’s face.“You put the house up as collateral? You took out a loan in my name without telling me? We’re going to be homeless in three months, Ty
CONTENT AND TRIGGER WARNING This collection contains extremely explicit, graphic, and highly erotic material intended for mature, consenting adults (18+ / 21+ depending on your local laws) only. By continuing, you acknowledge that you are of legal adult age and are choosing to read this content







