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Room 413

ผู้เขียน: Writer
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-06-22 00:11:12

The hotel bar at the Grand Marquis was still humming at midnight, even on a Tuesday. Isabella was three champagne cocktails deep, celebrating the promotion that had finally come through after two years of ass-kissing. She felt loose, powerful, and horny as hell in her tight red dress that hugged her ass and pushed her tits up like an offering.

She noticed him the second he walked in. Mid-thirties, expensive suit that fit like it was made for his broad shoulders, dark hair with a little silv
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  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Literature & Lust

    The English department hallway was dead quiet, the vending machine bummed out lown down by the stairwell. Mia checked her watch—11:17 p.m. She should have left hours ago, but Professor Hale’s email had been short and insistent: *My office. Tonight. Thesis notes.* She knocked once and pushed the door open. Damon Hale sat behind his heavy oak desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Mid-forties, dark hair threaded with silver at the temples, the kind of permanent five-o’clock shadow that made him look like he’d stepped out of a novel himself. He’d been at the university forever—brilliant, exacting, and famously unavailable. Married to the work, people said. Never to anyone else. “Close the door,” he said without looking up. “Campus security gets nosy after ten.” Mia shut it softly. The office smelled like old books, coffee, and faint whiskey. Stacks of papers and first editions covered every surface. A single lamp cast warm l

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Penthouse Eclipse

    Ava checked her watch for the third time in ten minutes. The penthouse was perfect—two floors of glass and steel floating eighty stories above the city, lights from the financial district sparkling like spilled diamonds below. She’d spent the last forty-eight hours coordinating everything: custom catering, discreet security, the right playlist humming low through hidden speakers. The client list was a ghost— just “the Consortium.” Cash wired upfront, no questions. She was adjusting a final floral arrangement when he appeared. Nico Laurent. Real-estate mogul. The kind of man who bought entire city blocks before breakfast. Tall, sharp-suited, dark hair, a jaw you could cut glass on. He leaned against the marble island. “Everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Laurent?” Ava asked, keeping her voice crisp and professional even as his eyes dragged over her black pencil skirt and silk blouse. “For now.” His voice was smooth, edged with darkness “You’ve done good work, Ava. But I didn’t

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Island of Indulgence

    The seaplane skimmed low over turquoise water before touching down with a gentle splash. Isabella stepped out onto the floating dock, salt wind tugging at the thin white linen dress that clung to her body. No luggage handlers. No staff waiting with champagne. Just Julian Reyes standing barefoot at the end of the dock in faded board shorts and an open linen shirt, watching her like he’d been waiting longer than the flight. He was taller than the photos suggested, sun-bronzed, with messy dark hair and a quiet intensity that made the air feel thicker. Oil heir. Reclusive. The kind of man who disappeared from the world for months at a time and still pulled strings that moved markets. “Isabella,” he said, voice low and warm. No fake smile. Just a slow once-over that lingered on her bare legs and the way the dress outlined her nipples in the breeze. “You came.” “You paid enough for me to clear my schedule.” She kept her tone light, professional, even as heat already pooled low in her be

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   The Velvet Underground

    Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs as the heavy steel door clicked shut behind her. The invitation had cost her three grand and a favor from a source who owed her big. *The Vault* didn’t advertise. You got in because someone who mattered wanted you there—or because you were useful. Tonight she was both: freelance journalist chasing a story on the ultra-rich and their dirty little playgrounds. Inside, it didn’t look like a converted warehouse anymore. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers dripping warm light, velvet drapes the color of dried blood. The air smelled like expensive perfume, sex, and aged whiskey. Low music throbbed through hidden speakers. People moved through the main lounge like they had all the time and money in the world—some in gowns that barely covered anything, others in tailored suits, masks optional here. Consent was the only real rule. She took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and tried to look like she belonged. Her black dress hugged every curve, s

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Island Lockdown

    Leila kicked off her sandals the second her feet hit the warm sand, the Caribbean sun beating down on her bare shoulders. She’d come to this tiny resort island to forget the divorce papers sitting on her kitchen counter back home, the empty apartment, the way her ex had drained every bit of fire out of her. Three days of cheap cocktails and pretending she was the kind of woman who danced alone at beach bars. It felt good. Free. Until the last night. She’d wandered too far down the private cove after one too many rum punches, the moon lighting the water silver. Footsteps behind her. Strong arms wrapping around her from behind before she could even scream. A hand over her mouth, a low voice in her ear with a heavy accent — “Don’t fight, princesa. You’re coming with me.” She bit down hard. He cursed but didn’t let go. A cloth over her face, sweet and chemical, and the world went black. When she woke up she was on a boat, wrists tied in front of her with soft rope, a blindfold tight

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Masks and Mirrors

    Sofia clutched the edge of her velvet gown as the black car wound up the cliffside road. The invitation had come through a private curator network—*Masquerade Noir, one night only, no names, no phones* and she’d almost thrown it away. Art curators didn’t usually end up at events like this. But curiosity, and maybe the dry spell she’d been in for months, won out. The mansion loomed against the night sky, all stone and shadows, torches flickering along the drive. Footmen in dark suits took her coat and handed her a heavy Venetian mask, gold and black, with delicate lace edges that tied securely behind her head. It covered everything. Inside, the grand ballroom pulsed with low music and candlelight. Hundreds of masked figures moved across the marble floor in gowns and tuxedos that cost more than her yearly salary. Champagne flowed. Laughter stayed hushed, intimate. No one introduced themselves. That was the point. She’d only been there twenty minutes when she felt him watching

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Slutty Stepmom 2

    The next few days were torture. I couldn’t look at Mammy without my face heating up and my pussy getting wet remember what happened just yesterday. Every time she walked past me in the kitchen, brushing her hand against my waist or giving me that knowing little smile, I remembered how her fingers

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Slutty Stepmom

    I slammed the front door harder than I meant to, the sound echoing through the dark 🏠 It was 2:17 a.m. according to my phone. My eyes were swollen from crying the whole drive home, and my chest felt like someone had kicked a hole in it. Jake had dumped me in the middle of a crowded bar like I

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   Locked in the Penthouse

    Clara’s hands were still shaking when she stepped out of the elevator into the underground parking garage. She’d finally done it--typed up the resignation letter, printed it, and slid it across Damon Harsh’s massive desk with her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m quitting, Mr. Harsh. Effective i

  • Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories)   The Obsession - CHP4

    Months had passed since that fucked-up wedding night. Sophia barely recognized herself anymore. The girl in the mirror had dead eyes, a leather collar locked tight around her neck, and a belly that was finally starting to swell just a little. Daniel’s baby. He checked every day, hands on her like

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