All Chapters of Love Without Rules: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Uncle's forbidden touch 8The attic breeding stuck with me. Uncle's cum plugged in all night, his stories of family curses whispering in my ear as the storm raged. My belly didn't show yet, but I felt it—the heir growing, his dark claim deep in my womb. Days after, he was tender in a twisted way. Fucks slow and deep, hands on my stomach, promising more kids to carry the line. But his eyes had that hunger, like he needed to mark me permanent.One afternoon, he grabbed my hand. "Basement, niece. Time to ink you as mine."My pulse raced. The basement was off-limits, but he led me down creaky stairs, unlocking a heavy door. Inside, a hidden tattoo parlor—chair in the center, buzzing machines, ink bottles lined up. Dim lights, smell of antiseptic and leather. Mirrors everywhere, reflecting my collared neck."Strip and sit, whore." He pointed to the chair. I obeyed, clothes pooling on the floor. Naked, I climbed on, legs in the stirrups like a gyno visit. He strapped my ankles and wrists do

Uncle's forbidden touch 10The will reading loomed like a storm cloud over the mansion, thick with anticipation and unspoken greed. Grandfather's death had pulled the family together one last time, relatives swarming the grand hall like vultures circling a fresh kill. Chairs scraped across the polished marble floor as everyone settled in rows, facing the head table where the lawyers sat with their stacks of papers, faces stern and unreadable. I took my seat beside Uncle Vance, my body still humming from his morning fuck—a quick, brutal breeding in the shower, his cock slamming deep while hot water cascaded over us, his cum plugged inside me with a toy he'd shoved in after. "Keep it warm for later, whore," he'd growled, tugging my nipple rings until I whimpered.I wore the black dress he chose—tight as sin, hugging my swelling belly and plunging low to show the tops of my tits, the silver rings glinting under the chandelier light. No panties, of course; his rule. The collar sat bold ar

Teacher's pet 2My name is Emma, and ever since that first detention, I've been hooked on Mr. Hale. His tie still hangs around my neck like a collar under my shirt, a secret reminder that I'm his. In class today, he lectures on behavior modification, his eyes locking on mine every few minutes. I shift in my seat, my ass still sore from his spanks, my pussy wet just from his voice. When lunch bell rings, he slips me another note: "Library. Now."I sneak in through the side door, heart pounding. The library is quiet, just a few students scattered at tables, the librarian at her desk with her back turned. Mr. Hale waits in the far stacks, hidden among tall shelves of old books. He grabs my wrist and pulls me deeper into the shadows, where no one can see. "Good girl," he murmurs, his hand sliding up my thigh under my skirt. "You've been thinking about me, haven't you?"I nod, breathless. "All morning, Sir." He smirks and pushes me against a shelf, books digging into my back. His fingers h

Horny intern 1My name was Mia, and I was twenty-one when I started my internship at Blackwood Corp. I had always been the shy type, the girl who hid behind books and avoided parties. Still a virgin, I focused on my business degree, hoping it would lead to something big. Landing this spot at one of the top firms in the city felt like a dream. But the real pull was the CEO, Mr. Voss. He was in his late thirties, tall and built like he spent hours in the gym. His suits hid tattoos that peeked out at his collar sometimes, and his dark eyes made my stomach flip every time he walked by. I crushed on him hard from day one, stealing glances during meetings.The office was huge, all glass walls and expensive furniture. I worked in marketing, fetching coffee and filing reports. Mr. Voss rarely spoke to interns, but I caught him watching me once or twice. It made my cheeks burn. On my third week, things changed. It was late, past seven, and most people had gone home. I stayed to finish a spread

Horny Intern 3The next few days blurred into a haze of waiting and wanting. Every morning I woke up soaked, the collar a constant weight around my neck. I showered, dressed in my usual skirt and blouse, always high enough to cover the leather. At work I smiled at coworkers, answered calls, filed reports, but my mind stayed locked on Mr. Voss. His email came like clockwork now—short, commanding. "My office. After hours." I lived for those words.Thursday night, most of the floor was empty by six. Lights dimmed in the halls. I stayed late on purpose, pretending to finish a presentation. My phone buzzed at seven fifteen. "Now, kitten." My pulse jumped. I grabbed my bag, smoothed my skirt, and walked to the elevator. The ride up felt slower every time, my thighs pressing together to ease the ache between them.His door was cracked open. I pushed it wider and stepped in. He sat behind the desk, sleeves rolled up tonight. Tattoos peeked out—black ink curling around his forearms, dragons tw