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Way 34: Knocked Up by the Alpha
publish date:
2026-06-09 00:29:59
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Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet I Took the Man Who Hated Me Most (1)
I Took the Man Who Hated Me MostChapter 1The negotiation ended at 9:47 p.m. with blood in the water and my name on the winning side of the term sheet.Noah Trent looked like he wanted to set the conference room on fire with me still inside it.He had spent eleven hours across the table from me—sharp, precise, vicious in the way only someone who actually understood the deal could be. Every counter I made, he met. Every pressure point I touched, he tried to twist back on my client. He lost anyway. Not because he was outmatched on skill. Because I had come in with leverage he hadn’t seen until it was already around his throat.When the last signature landed, he stood, buttoned his jacket, and looked straight at me.“Congratulations, Calder. You must be proud. Another room full of people who hate you.”“They don’t have to like me,” I said. “They just have to sign.”Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. Then he walked out.I stayed long enough to shake the right hands and pretend I
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Soft Curves for the Recluse (1)
Chapter 1: The Interview That Ended on His DeskAva Moreno almost turned the car around twice on the long private drive.The estate sat behind tall iron gates and dense woods twenty minutes outside the city—modern glass and black stone, all sharp lines and quiet money. She parked her ten-year-old Honda next to a matte-black Range Rover that probably cost more than she had made in the last three years combined and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror one last time.Dark hair in a low, neat bun. Soft makeup. A black wrap dress that actually fit her size-20 body instead of fighting it—deep V neckline that showed the full curve of her heavy breasts, fabric that clung to the soft roll of her stomach and the thick flare of her hips and thighs. She had stopped trying to hide years ago. If this reclusive billionaire didn’t like the way she took up space, he could keep looking.She needed this job. Rent was late. The temp agencies had dried up. And the salary listed in the private lis
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Salt on Her Soft Curves (5)
Chapter 5: High Tide & Forever MarksThe safe house was a weathered cedar cabin tucked into a rocky cove an hour up the coast—no road access, only the narrow channel Rhys navigated by memory and moonlight. He tied the boat off in silence, helped Tessa onto the slick dock, and kept one hand on the small of her back the entire walk up the stone path. Blood still darkened the side of his face. His knuckles were split. Every few steps his eyes swept the tree line like he expected more men to step out of the dark.Inside, the cabin smelled of old wood, salt, and dust. One open room, a wide bed against the far wall, a woodstove, windows that looked straight onto black water. Rhys locked the door, set both guns on the table, and finally turned to her.For a long moment he just looked—at the hoodie still half-zipped over her heavy breasts, the leggings clinging to her thick thighs, the faint red marks on her wrists where Marco’s men had held her. Something raw and almost broken moved behind h
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Salt on Her Soft Curves (4)
Salt on Her Soft CurvesChapter 4: Cannery Blood & Soft FleshThe old cannery smelled like rust, dead fish, and diesel.Rhys kept Tessa half a step behind him as they crossed the cracked concrete, one hand wrapped around her wrist, the other near the gun at the small of his back. A single bare bulb swung on the second floor, throwing long, broken shadows through the shattered windows. The tide slapped against the pilings underneath the building. Somewhere farther down the docks a boat engine idled low.A man stepped out of the darkness near the loading bay—tall, lean, expensive coat over tactical gear. Two more shadows flanked him. The one in the middle smiled like he already owned the night.“Rhys Callahan,” he called. “Still soft for thick girls, I see.”Marco Vescari. Mid-forties, silver at the temples, the kind of face that had never done its own dirty work. His eyes dragged over Tessa without shame—lingering on the way the dark hoodie stretched across her heavy breasts, the thick
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Salt on Her Soft Curves(3)
Chapter 3: Blood in the WaterTessa woke to the sound of the shower running and the low murmur of Rhys’s voice on the phone.She sat up slowly, sheet pooled around her soft waist, heavy breasts bare in the gray morning light. Her body ached in the best places—bruises on her thick hips and thighs in the exact shape of his fingers, a pleasant throb between her legs from how many times he had taken her the night before. She could still feel him every time she shifted.The shower shut off. Rhys walked out with a towel around his hips, water beading on the hard planes of his chest and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the terry cloth. He ended the call the second he saw her awake. His expression was carefully blank, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away.“Who was that?” Tessa asked.“Old contact.” He dropped the towel without ceremony and crossed to the bed. Already half-hard. “Someone who still owes me favors.”He climbed onto the mattress, pushed her thick thighs apa
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Salt on Her Soft Curves (2)
Salt on Her Soft CurvesChapter 2: Morning Claims & Saltwater MarksTessa woke to the feel of a rough hand already between her thick thighs and a hard cock pressed against the soft curve of her ass.Gray dawn light filtered through the wide windows of Rhys’s loft above the bar. The air still smelled like sex and salt. His chest was warm against her back, one heavy thigh thrown over hers, pinning her in place like he was afraid she might try to leave. His fingers stroked slow and deliberate through her folds, finding her already slick.“Morning,” he rumbled against the nape of her neck. His voice was pure gravel. “Told you I’d fuck you before you opened your eyes.”Tessa arched into his hand with a sleepy moan. “You’re relentless.”“You walked into my bar with these hips and this ass and expected me to be gentle?” He pushed two thick fingers inside her, curling them, while his thumb circled her clit. “I’ve been hard since I woke up with your soft body all over me. Not waiting another s
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Way 2: My Husband's Younger Brother(1)
Way 2: My Husband's Younger Brother I married the safe brother. Everyone said it. Jake was stable, successful, and boring in bed. His younger brother, Liam, was the opposite—wild, reckless, and built like a goddamn temptation sent straight from hell. I told myself I was immune to him. I lied every
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Way 1: Her Stepson's Temptation(4)
Chapter 4: Filled With Sin Richard’s footsteps grew louder on the porch. The jingle of his keys sounded like a death sentence. And yet Marcus kept me pinned on his cock, thick and throbbing deep inside my married pussy, refusing to let me climb off. My heart pounded so violently I felt dizzy. Pan
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Way 1: Her Stepson's Temptation(3)
Way 1: Her Stepson's Temptation Chapter 3: Risk and Ruin The headlights cut through the living room like a warning from hell itself, freezing us in place. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my swollen clit, everywhere. Marcus was still kneeling between my spread thighs, h
Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet Way 1: Her Stepson's Temptation
Way 1: Her Stepson's Temptation I never meant for any of this to happen. Or maybe I did. Maybe I had been lying to myself for months, pretending that the way my body reacted around him was nothing more than a lonely woman's imagination running wild. My name is Elena, thirty-eight years old, marrie
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