Masuk
** Trigger Warning**
This collection is not safe.
Not for your morals. Not for your comfort.
Inside these pages, you’ll find public degradation, corruption of innocence, voyeurism, cum worship, daddy kinks, strap-ons, virgin ruin, twisted love, and begging that sounds a lot like prayer.
There are no safe words here.
Only wrong men. Wet sheets. And women who stop pretending they want to be saved.
If you’ve ever said “just one more chapter” with a hand between your thighs
Welcome to Filthy Obsessions.
The elevator ride made her wetter.
Sariah had worn nothing under the trench coat except a red lace thong and a push-up bra that barely contained her tits. She’d sprayed perfume between her thighs, tied her hair up the way he liked.
She touched herself in the backseat of the Uber.
Twice.
First was a quick rub against her thigh while imagining his cock slamming into her over the desk. Second was full fingers down the front, pressing her clit hard through her panties until she bit her lip and tasted blood.
But she didn’t finish.
Not yet.
She wanted him to finish her.
If he could still do it.
She was done waiting.
Six years married. Two since he made her scream. Now, she was walking into his office to remind him who the fuck he married.
When she walked in, Keon looked up from his desk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie loose, hair messy. Fuck. He was still sexy. Just… useless in bed lately.
“Sariah?” he blinked. “Everything okay?”
She dropped the coat.
And his eyes went wide.
Her tits bounced slightly with the move, full and firm in the lace cups. Her nipples were already hard, nipples dark through the fabric. Below, her pussy shaved, wet, and barely covered by red strings soaked from the ride over. Her pussy peeked through the tiny triangle of her thong, soaked, creamy, glistening.
“Sariah, what”
“I missed being fucked,” she said, walking toward him. “Thought I’d remind you what’s waiting at home.”
He stood, stunned. His cock was already growing in his pants.
She grabbed his tie, pulled him in, kissed him rough—tongue, spit, teeth. Then she dropped to her knees,
She unzipped him fast. His cock sprang out—already growing, half-hard in her fist.
Thick. Gorgeous. Half-hard.
“God, I missed this dick,” she breathed. “So thick… so fucking good when it’s hard.”
He groaned. “You can’t just”
“Shut up.”
She licked up the side, slow, then wrapped her lips around the head, tasting his pre-cum on her tongue.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”
Her mouth bobbed on his cock, spit dripping down her chin. She took him deep, choking a little, eyes locked on his while her hand slipped between her thighs.
He grabbed her head. “Shit, that mouth”
She licked from the base up, slow, tongue dragging across every inch. Then she opened wide and took him in, lips sealing around his shaft with a dirty slurp.
Keon’s head dropped back. “Shit, baby…”
She sucked him like she meant it. Mouth slick, throat relaxed. She pulled him deeper until he hit the back, until her spit dripped down her chin, until she had to grip the base just to keep from choking.
He grabbed her hair. His cock throbbed. “Goddamn—don’t stop. That mouth… fuck—”
She didn’t stop. Not until she felt it:
That shift.
That slow, dreaded loss of tension.
He twitched… then softened.
Mid-thrust. Mid-fucking moan, his dick wilted.
She froze.
Pulled off. Stared.
Keon looked down in horror. “Wait—I—I don’t know what happened.”
Her eyes were glassy. Her lips still wet. Her hand trembled on his thigh.
“It happened again,” she whispered. “You can’t even stay hard when I’m half-naked on my knees?”
He grabbed her wrist. “Baby, I’m sorry. I want you, I do—I’m just stressed. Work’s been hell—”
“Stop.”
She stood up. Shaking. Furious. Devastated.
“Do you even fucking see me anymore?”
Keon looked broken.
“Let me make it up to you,” he begged. “Please.”
Keon looked panicked. “Fuck—I’m sorry, baby. I swear I don’t know why—”
“Is it me?” she hissed. “Is it my body? My mouth? My pussy? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She stood too—angry, heartbroken, dripping with a need that wasn’t going anywhere.
“I came here to fuck you. To remind you I’m yours. I was ready to bend over that desk, beg for your cock, ride you until we broke the chair”
“Sariah”
“Instead you gave me a soft dick and excuses.”
Her panties clung to her pussy lips, completely soaked from anticipation. Her clit throbbed, desperate for friction. She wanted to scream. Or cry. Or ride the desk lamp just to prove a point.
But then she looked at him.
And he looked… destroyed.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice rough. “Let me try again. Please. Let me taste you.”
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He dropped to his knees anyway.
He kissed her inner thighs, slow. Gentle. His fingers traced the edge of her thong, pulling it aside, revealing her pussy—creamy, hot, slick with frustration.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he whispered.
“Of course I am. I wanted to be used.”
He licked her, soft at first. His tongue dragged through her folds, tasting the mess she’d made for him. She grabbed the back of his head and forced him deeper.
“Eat it like you want to keep me,” she snapped.
He tried. Tongue working, lips sucking her clit, fingers sliding in slow. It felt good. Almost.
But not enough.
“Harder,” she moaned. “Faster. Stop teasing. I need to fucking cum”
He sped up. She rocked her hips, used his face, rode his mouth like a cock. For a second, she felt the edge
Almost there
Then he changed the rhythm. Slowed down.
She snapped.
“Fuck off.”
She pushed him back.
“Stop pretending like you know what you’re doing,” she spat. “You don’t. You used to wreck me. Now you fuck me like I’m fragile.”
“I was trying”
“Trying doesn’t make me cum, Keon.”
He stood. Silent. Broken. His lips shiny from her pussy, his cock still soft.
She grabbed her coat and opened her purse.
“Someone gave me this.”
She dropped a black envelope on his desk.
“An elite sex club. They said it saves marriages. I told them mine was dying. And they said if you can’t fix it…”
She turned to leave.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a black card. One word printed in deep silver: Come.
And beneath it, a handwritten note:
“If you can’t make her cum… I will.
Bonnie Finley slid the last crumpled hundred across the dock to the dude in the hoodie. He pocketed it without blinking and jerked a thumb at the sub.“Get in. Don’t barf. They hate cleaning that shit up at depth.”She grinned, heart already racing. “Not my first rodeo, dude.”The Abyssal looked like a rich man’s toy—sleek, white, mean. Inside it smelled like cold steel, expensive perfume, and pure trouble. Red lights, low bass thumping through the hull, maybe twenty people already half-drunk and horny. Tech guys in open shirts, women in tiny dresses that cost more than her car. Bonnie felt the buzz the second she stepped in. This was exactly the kind of stupid she needed for the story.She grabbed a gin at the bar. The silver-haired bartender winked. “First time? You look like you’re hunting.”“Hunting’s the plan,” Bonnie shot back, sipping slow. “Any recommendations?”The bartender laughed. “See the guy by the bulkhead? Ink on his neck, looks like he eats trouble for breakfast? That
Noah POV “Cade, wake up! We leave in ten,” Silas’s voice cut through the tent. Noah’s heart jumped—today wasn’t just morning, it was the day everything changed.Cade’s arm was locked around his waist like a steel band, chest pressed to Noah’s back, morning wood digging into his ass like it had a personal vendetta.Noah tried to move.Cade’s arm tightened.“Not again,” Noah groaned, voice still rough from screaming half the night. “Cade, we fucked four times yesterday. My ass is on strike.”Cade nipped his shoulder, right over the fresh bite mark. “Five. I need five.”Noah laughed, couldn’t help it. “You animal.”“Missed you for weeks,” Cade muttered, grinding slow against him. “Gimme one more before we go fight your father-in-law.”Noah rolled over, kissed him soft. “You’re insane.”“And you love it.”They were still kissing, lazy and deep, when Silas’s voice boomed outside the tent.“Lovebirds! Sun’s up. We ride in twenty. Get your asses out here.”Cade flipped the tent flap the bir
Liv stood frozen in the hallway, ear pressed to the war-room door.Her father’s voice was ice.“We ride at dawn. Full strength. Cade’s gone rogue. The omega’s poisoned him. We take the boy, we take the Relic, we end this before Christmas. No survivors.”Liv’s stomach flipped.She backed away slow, heart hammering so loud she was scared they’d hear it.Cade and Nora had escaped two nights ago.She’d watched them climb out the window.She’d seen the blood trail in the snow.She’d heard the guards screaming.And she hadn’t said a damn word.Because Cade was her brother.And Noah was the closest thing to family Cade had ever had.So she did the only thing she could think of.She walked into the kitchen like nothing was wrong.Aunt Denise was elbow-deep in chili, sweat on her forehead.Aunt Carla was rolling pie crust and singing off-key Christmas carols.Aunt Marla was chopping onions and crying harder than usual.Grandma sat at the table peeling potatoes like she was skinning enemies.Li
Cade was on Noah like he’d been starving for years.He slammed him against the center pole, mouth crashing down, teeth clacking, tongues fighting. Hands everywhere, yanking shirts, ripping seams, nails dragging down skin hard enough to leave red lines.“I thought you were dead,” Cade growled against Noah’s lips, voice cracking. “I thought I lost you.”Noah kissed him harder, biting Cade’s lower lip until he tasted blood.“I’m here,” he gasped. “I’m right fucking here.”Cade’s hands dropped to Noah’s belt, tore it open, shoved his jeans down to his thighs. Noah’s cock sprang free, already leaking, flushed dark and curved up toward his stomach.Cade dropped to his knees without a word.He swallowed Noah to the root in one brutal slide.Noah’s head slammed back against the pole, a broken moan ripping out of him.Cade didn’t tease. He sucked like he was trying to pull Noah’s soul out through his dick, throat working, tongue flicking the slit, one hand cupping Noah’s balls and rolling the
Silas and Noah were halfway back to camp when Noah felt it—a sharp pull in his chest. A heartbeat that wasn’t his.Cade.He stopped so fast Silas almost crashed into him.“Wait—” Noah whispered, heart hammering. “Is that—Cade?”Silas inhaled, eyes flashing gold. “Someone’s close. Two someones.”Noah’s heart jumped into his throat.And then—a scent hit him. Warm. Familiar. Home.“Oh my god—” he started running.“Noah,” Silas snapped, grabbing his arm. “Stop.”“Let go, he’s right there—”Silas yanked him back against his chest, voice low and sharp in his ear. “Listen to me. Don’t run at him. Don’t give him hope that you’re leaving with him. The Whitlocks are unpredictable. Be smart.”Noah’s throat tightened.“But—he’s my—”“Control your emotions,” Silas said. “Or you’ll get him killed.”Noah swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe.Then he saw them.Nora—covered in snow. Cade—sleeping, shaking, eyes wild.“Cade!” he shouted.“Noah?” he blinked like he was dreaming. “Noah!”Noahran s
“After we escaped your deadly father, the White Alpha and his hounds, I’m not dying out here because of your terrible tracking.”Nora collapsed against a tree, shaking. I'm the best….. Cade responded but was cut off“Cade, I swear to God, if you say you’re the ‘best tracker’ one more time, I’m pushing you into the snow.”Nora’s voice cracked through the freezing air.Cade stopped, breath shaking in front of him. “I didn’t say I’m the best tracker. I said I’m pretty good.”“You said ‘the best in our whole school,’” Nora shot back. “And we’ve been walking in circles for an hour.”Cade glared at the empty white field like it personally offended him. “Well… Alpha Silas covers his tracks. He probably does that wolf ninja thing—”“Mm-hm.” Nora raised a brow. “And you do the getting-us-lost thing.”Cade wanted to argue, but his leg throbbed again — the same leg that barely survived the lodge collapse. He tried to hide the limp. Didn’t work.Nora noticed.“You should stop,” she said softly.







