All Chapters of Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections): Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Genre: Dark Fantasy Billionaire Romance | Explicit | FL: Ruby SentyML: Rudolph Clarksville Doff – “The Beast King”...The first time Ruby Senty saw Rudolph Clarksville Doff, she was barefoot, soaked in forest rain, and trying to escape a man who’d paid for her body.He didn’t belong to the forest not in his fine black coat tailored to perfection, the onyx buttons shining even in the storm. But neither did he look entirely human. He leaned against a gnarled birch tree like a man waiting to choose a weapon. His hair was too dark, too wild. His eyes shimmered beast-gold.Ruby froze.She’d heard stories. Of the man who didn’t attend galas but bought the bloodlines of kings. Of the tycoon whose fortune was made not in boardrooms but in battlefields, in claiming land and power like a conquering warlord. They called him the Beast King. Others whispered he wasn’t quite a man at all.Now, he was real. Real and watching her.She tried to step backward, but her foot caught in a root. She st

Genre: Steamy Dragon Beast Fantasy RomanceCharacters:Lustre Fleff: 26, an archivist with dragon blood hidden in her lineage, fiercely independent, olive skin with opal-hued eyes.Jammy Dracotar: 31, billionaire dragon-shifter, enigmatic, ruthless in business, darker in bed. Rumored to be part beast, part man entirely untouchable....Lustre Fleff wasn’t supposed to be at the auction.It was private, invitation-only hosted in the belly of a mountain estate that only the rich or unreasonably powerful ever walked through. But she wasn’t just any librarian. She’d inherited more than books from her grandmother’s bloodline. Something old, coiled, and fire-breathing.And apparently, Jammy Dracotar had noticed.He sat at the head of the obsidian-glassed room like he owned time. Slate-black hair, jaw cut by some divine blade, eyes the color of molten amber flickering with shadows that didn’t belong in a man’s gaze.Lustre had been cataloging ancient draconic texts in his private archive fo

Genre: Explicitly Steamy Fae Fantasy RomanceFemale Lead: Deerah Gav, Half-fae, sharp-tongued, former rebel healerMale Lead: Greco Roman, Dark, battle-scarred Prince of the Nightshade Realm, cold and unbending...Deerah Gav didn’t bow. Not when the Queen of the Moon Court branded her a traitor. Not when the high fae sorcerers burned her wings into ash for healing humans during the war. And not now, as the obsidian gates of the Nightshade Realm opened with a moan like bone cracking under pressure, revealing a fae prince with blood on his hands and shadows under his eyes.Greco Roman was not what she expected.He stood shirtless in the silver fog, skin kissed by war and carved by old scars. His torso was lean muscle, tapered, brutal not beautiful, not polished like the men of the courts but real. His eyes were obsidian pools rimmed with violet fire, and his jaw held the promise of cruelty. And yet, something in his stance betrayed the stillness of a man who had once cared deeply, b

Characters:FL: Honeybell Sant: A half-wolf healer with a defiant heart and no pack. Curvy, warm-toned skin, thick amber curls, and honey-gold eyes. She works at the edge of the highland territories where the feral roam.ML: Veneer Stone: The dark, rogue Alpha of the Northern Tundra. Unhinged, brutal, with a silent, brooding presence. Stark grey eyes, scarred jawline, and a body like chiseled marble. Never touches unless he’s ready to destroy....The storm rolled in like a warning, heavy, growling clouds smothering the moonlight. Honeybell Sant didn’t flinch. She was used to solitude, even in the wild borderlands between the Highland packs and the unclaimed territories. Her little cabin, a crooked thing made of pine and patience, smelled like cedar, dried blood, and lavender. A wolf healer’s den.She was mid-grind on her salve when she heard it. A snarl. Low. Strangled. Followed by a thud, too heavy to be deer, too fast for a bear.Wolf.She grabbed the bone-handled blade strapped

The morning after was not morning at all. The cathedral was cloaked in half-light, the sun hesitant to shine through the broken stained glass. Dust danced in gold shafts around them, but time didn’t seem to move inside these walls. Not when Uriel Linel lay naked beside her, wings half-folded, chest rising and falling with the slow, heavy breath of an immortal who had just broken every divine law. Lurav Yent woke tangled in the dark velvet of his wings. They still quivered against her skin, feathers warm and silk-soft, wrapping her like arms that wouldn’t let go. He hadn’t spoken since he came apart inside her the night before, but he hadn't left her either. She moved gently, her body still aching from the way he’d taken her, rough and reverent, as if he were both punishing and worshipping her. Her inner thighs were sore, wet with the fading remnants of their sins. But she didn’t want to move. Not yet. Uriel’s hand slid across her ribs, pulling her tight against him. “You’re