All Chapters of Dirtiest Desires (Steamiest Short Stories): Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I step back into the living room trying to act like nothing happened but my stomach is a tight knot. What the hell did she mean by she has a thing for me? Yes there was always something about the way she watched me, her dark eyes almost always fixed on me. I’d noticed but always dismissed it thinking her gothic vibe just made her look… intense. I honestly find it kind of amusing that she’s into me. I mean… Inker is smoking hot. But I’m just eighteen. I’ve never had anything to do with a woman. And she’s my brother’s girlfriend! I almost turn back around, tell myself I should just go to bed. But my feet carry me to them anyway. The living room smells like beer and sweat. Stan is stretched out on the couch, one arm over the backrest, the other holding a bottle. He and Inker are laughing about their college days. She’s on his lap, her leg swinging, hand playing on his chest. When her eyes find me, that smug little smile spreads across her lips. My chest tightens immediately. I

And then she kisses me. It’s not soft. It’s hungry and possessive. Her tongue slides against mine and I taste liquor, smoke and her. My whole body arches into hers as if I can crawl inside her skin… desperate to get closer. Her fingers sink in further, one sliding inside me and I nearly scream into her mouth. My head spins. My vision blurs. “Oh my god—” I moan between kisses, words tumbling out. “I’ve never… no girl has ever—” “Shh,” she cuts me off, finger curling inside me, thumb circling until my toes curl. “You don’t need anyone else. Just me.” Before I can breathe her fingers hook in the waistband of my short and pull it down. The cool air hits my soaked panties and I slap a hand over my mouth. My whole body burns as she drags the thin cotton off and stares at me like she’s unwrapping a gift. “Fuck,” she whispers in awe. She pushes me down flat and settles between my legs, spreading me open with her hands. Her gaze is dark and hungry and when she looks up at me throu

~ Inker ~ I’m in Stan’s room folding the last of my things into a duffel, though my mind is miles away. Truth is, I don’t want to leave yet. Not because of Stan. Because of her. Cassie. From the very first moment Stan introduced me to his family, something in me latched on. She reminded me too much of myself before I got chewed up and spit back out by life… before I built up this iron personality. She’s the perfect mirror of what I used to be. Sweet. Hungry. Corruptible. Now I crave control. But the filthy truth is I love being controlled too. Bisexuality was my ticket into both worlds. With men I get to hand my leash over and take. With women, I keep the leash wrapped around my wrist and pull until they’re begging. Cassie… she’s both temptation and memory. The younger version of me I’ll never get back and the toy I want to keep breaking open. Stan’s already gone for work and my stay here is officially over. For now. I should be zipping up my bag and texting a ride, instead

~ Cassie ~ Inker must be insane. What kind of girlfriend lures her own boyfriend into a threesome with his stepsister? And worse—Stan looks like he might actually give in. “Uhmm…” I stammer, my throat dry. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in love?” Inker doesn’t hesitate. Her smile sharpens, eyes glinting with mischief as her hand drifts over Stan’s chest. “It’s okay, darling,” she says. “Your stepbrother and I… we’re in an open relationship.” An open relationship? I blink at her, trying to process. Stan’s jaw works as he stares at Inker. His fists are clenched, shoulders tense like he wants to punch a hole through the wall. But then his eyes cut to me again, sliding down my body and lingering where they shouldn’t. His chest heaves too fast like every breath is a battle against himself. He looks torn apart inside, yet I can see that he’s hard for me. For this. “Stan…” My voice cracks. I don’t even know what I’m begging for. Is it mercy? Is it forgiveness? Or something

~ Elsa ~ It’s my bachelorette party, and I only have one goal… to get fucked by two big black cocks before I say ‘I do’ in two days. The club is chaos… neon lights, half empty glasses and screaming bridesmaids. My friends think I’m tipsy and just another bride-to-be soaking up her last night of freedom but they have no idea what I’m really hunting for. I raise my glass and force a smile but my eyes keep scanning the room. I don’t even know what I’m searching for because the room is filled with my bridesmaids. Tonight isn’t just about silly dares or dollar bills tucked into a dancer’s thong. Yet the longer I sit here, the more I feel disappointment sinking into my stomach. I’m a white girl with one fantasy: to be dominated and wrecked by two or more black men. I’ve dreamed of it for years but never had the chance. Now I’m twenty-three and almost a wife… I’ll be damned if I don’t do this one last thing before I’m tied down. I set down my drink, already thinking about slipping