LOGINWarning: ️ EXTREME HEAT WARNING ️ This book contains raw, unfiltered erotica, dark romance, taboo kinks, brutal BDSM, GAY, LESBIAN, and every filthy, dripping desire your depraved mind begs for. Enter at your own risk and come undone. L U S T R O N O M I C A A savage constellation of stories where desire burns hotter than dying stars and bodies collide in wet, brutal, unstoppable gravity. Between the endless black void and the slick, throbbing pull of total surrender, lovers crash into each other—cocks buried deep, cunts soaked and clenching, mouths hungry for every forbidden taste of skin, sweat, and sin. Every story is a savage gravitational fuck between dominance and delirium, pain and ecstasy, control and the wet, shaking moment you finally break. It’s a reminder that the most dangerous thing isn’t the fall into darkness… it’s how fucking good it feels to burn alive, screaming, while you come harder than you ever thought possible.
View More*TESSA*
“I’m never falling in love again.”I murmured to myself as I downed a glass of vodka.
I winced slightly as it burnt its way down my throat.
I shouldn’t be drinking.
I know I shouldn’t be drinking.
I don’t even have the head for alcohol but I just want to try and forget about how bad my heart was aching.
Still..the alcohol wasn’t helping.
Three years…it took Marcus three years to tell me that I wasn’t gentle,considerate and sexy.
How could he say that to me when he had always adored me?
What went wrong?
And just few hours ago…I saw pictures of him online.
Apparently,he had traveled to England with a girl.
She had looked so classy…so sophisticated in the pictures.
We just broke up like three days ago and he’s already with someone else?
That made me curious to know when he met her…
Was it before we broke up?
Had he been cheating on me?
Had I really become less gentle and sexy and considerate?
Oh God.
It was as if someone was repeatedly piercing my chest with a knife.
How could it be so easy for him to end what we had?
Am I supposed to move on like that?
How can I move on from him?
I filled up my glass again and drank everything on it.
Someone sat beside me and l suddenly felt uncomfortable.
I didn’t want anyone to see me at my lowest.
With every intention of leaving,I turned to slid off the stool but before I realized it,I had turned towards the direction of the person.
It was a man.
I became aware of a pregnant taut silence.
Feeling absurdly compelled…I looked up and came face to face….eyeball to eyeball with a fallen angel who was looking right at me.
A dark fallen angel.
With eyes that seemed to glow green and gold under long back lashes and black brows…high cheekbones and a very enchanting lips.
It drew my eyes and made me stop and linger.
I had the most bizarre and urgent desire to press my lips against his mouth..to feel and taste its texture.
This was all within a nanosecond.
“Hey,pretty lady.”He began.
I couldn’t understand the hot feeling in my belly,the sizzling in my blood for what seemed like aeons.
My breath hitched and I felt dizzy.
I was still sitting down!
Pull yourself,Tessa.
This has to be the alcohol.
I shakily stood up.
“Oh please don’t leave on my account.”
“I was…I was about leaving…”
“Am I too late to ask if you would share a drink with me?”He asked.
I should decline but his hot and deep voice hit me like a wrecking ball.
I sat back down as I stared at him…a burning hit reaction spread through me…lighting a fire through every vein and every bit of pulsing blood in my body.
And when he smiled faintly…the room seemed to tilt.
“I…”I let out with pathetic ineffectiveness.
He took off his coat and jacket revealing the thin silk of his shirt and the body I had suspected existed was now heart-stoppingly evident.
What is wrong with me?
It has to be the break up and the alcohol.
*****************
The sound of running water woke me up.
I blinked slowly and opened my eyes.
My head was aching but my eyes dilated when I realized that I wasn’t in my bedroom.
Oh my God!
This room looked so exquisite…
The curtains were opened and I sat up to see some clothes on the floor.
I shakily laid back down and held the duvet to myself.
What the hell?
I mentally assessed myself.
Oh my God!
I’m naked!
Unable to believe it…I moved the duvet aside and the shock of my state made me cover myself up again.
Oh…
And I felt so tender…
So tender between my legs.
Like flash…the memories of last night came crashing down on me…Drinking to stupor and meeting that strange man…it seems we had a little conversation of a sort and then we ended up in a hotel room.
My cheeks felt so hot as I grabbed my long hair and recalled him rising above me…sliding inside and repeatedly stroking me.
Oh…he had done it so good.
Oh no!
This wasn’t the time to think about how good he was.
I just had a one night stand with a stranger.
I’ve never slept with a stranger before.
How am I supposed to face him?
What am I to say?
I have to run before he comes out of the bathroom.
I hurriedly got up from the bed and quickly put on my clothes and grabbed my bag,
As I walked up to the door…
The bathroom door opened.
And then he walked out…
I was almost floored by how handsome he looked.
He was on a bathroom but I couldn’t fail to notice his manly features…
His broad shoulders and powerful thighs.
My heartbeat was out of control.
Marcus wouldn’t hold a candle to this man.
Memories of our sex last night invaded my mind again…
The way he hugged me…kissed me…thrust into me…
I felt hot all over.
Shaking my head,I forced myself to stop thinking about it.
I fanned myself with my hands but it was useless…
While I looked all restless…he was as calm as a cucumber.
And then I caught his gaze…
He was staring at me as if I was an object.
He cocked an eyebrow and stared at me with disdain.
Why is he staring at me like that?
I saw him reach for the bedside and picked up his wallet.
I could see it was loaded with money.
My eyes widened.
Does he think I’m a prostitute?
I felt deeply insulted so I decided to act fast.
I took out two hundred dollars from my bag and threw them on the bed before he could offer me any money.
I put on a calm attitude and crossed my arms.
Looking up at him straight in the eyes,I let out:
“Though you’re good looking but you skills are bad…so bad and it’s only worth a little money!”
I wanted to humiliate him before he does that to me.
“What did you just say?”The man asked,furiously.
By all means…I hid how embarrassed I was and in order to show him that I was serious…I moved closer to him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Well,you could try giving a discount first and once you’ve learned how to satisfy a woman…you can definitely raise the price!”With that,I spun and walked off as fast as I could.
While I was fleeing,I could hear him roar…”Fuck!”
I’ve deeply annoyed that man!
I never thought a weekend that was supposed to be about conquering a mountain would end up shattering my entire world.My older brother, Jake, had planned this trip for months. A three-day climb up Black Ridge with his college buddies and their girlfriends. I only tagged along because my boyfriend, Tyler, begged me to come. “Babe, it’ll be romantic,” he’d said, kissing my neck in that lazy way that used to make me melt. “Just us, the stars, a tent. I’ll keep you warm every night.”I should have known better.We arrived at the trailhead Friday afternoon. Six of us total: Jake and his girlfriend Mia, two of Jake’s climbing friends, Tyler, and me. The air was crisp, pine-scented, the kind of cold that bites your cheeks and makes you feel alive. I was excited at first. I’d been training for this, hours on the stairmaster, new boots, expensive gear Tyler insisted we buy. I wanted to prove I could keep up.The first day was perfect. Steep switchbacks, laughter echoing through the trees, Tyl
I’m already in the front row when the first students trickle in, heart jackhammering against my ribs. I haven’t come since Monday. She didn’t give me permission. Two days of constant, throbbing denial, morning wood that never went down, showers where I had to grip the wall and count backward from a hundred to keep from stroking, nights humping the mattress like an animal while her name tore out of my throat.Today I’m wearing loose gray sweatpants. Mistake. The outline of my cock is obscene even soft, and I haven’t been soft since I woke up thinking about her promise: nothing under the skirt at all.The room fills. I don’t look at anyone. I can’t.10:09.The door opens.She walks in like she owns the air itself. Black stilettos first, then legs in sheer black stockings that stop mid-thigh with a wide lace band. No garter today just the stockings and a skirt so short it’s criminal. Deep burgundy wool, tight, barely covering the curve where thigh meets ass. A thin black sweater clings t
Monday, 10:07 a.m.I’m in the front row before the first student even walks in.Notebook open, pen aligned perfectly, legs spread just enough that the ache in my balls is constant. I didn’t sleep. I edged five times last night exactly like she ordered, each one worse than the last. By the fifth I was crying into my pillow, cock purple, hips fucking the air, begging out loud for a woman who wasn’t even there.I’m wearing dark jeans today. The wet spot won’t show as fast.The room fills. I don’t look at anyone. My entire world narrows to the doorway.10:09.She walks in.Same heels. Different skirt. This one is black leather, tight as sin, ending just above the knee with a zipper running the full length of the back. White silk blouse, two buttons undone. I can already see the black lace of her bra peeking through the gap. Hair loose today, dark waves brushing the tops of her breasts every time she breathes.She doesn’t look at me. Not once.She writes “Donne The Flea” on the board, turn
I turned nineteen six weeks ago, and that’s when the lying stopped.I’m not in British Lit 301 for the credits. I’m here for her.Professor Valentina Cross. Thirty-four. The woman who owns every drop of blood in my veins.I arrive twenty-five minutes early, claim the same seat, third row, left aisle, so I can watch her walk in. Notebook open, pen ready, like I give a damn about Byron. I’m already half-hard just from the anticipation.The hall fills. Then the door opens and the air turns thick, electric.She stalks in on four-inch heels that click like a metronome straight to my cock. Charcoal pencil skirt, slit riding high enough to flash black lace stocking tops when she moves. Ivory silk blouse stretched tight across her tits, nipples faintly visible when the light hits right. Hair twisted up, a few strands begging to be yanked free.She writes the date on the board. The skirt parts. I bite back a groan.Class starts. Her voice low, smoky, clipped British, slides over words like “de
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