All Chapters of Midnight Pleasure: 30 Shades Of Short Steamy Stories : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

I slumped over Hartman's desk, my body a trembling wreck, ass throbbing from the brutal pounding he'd just given me. His cum leaked hot and sticky down my inner thighs, mixing with my own juices that still dripped from my pussy, the dual orgasms leaving me quivering and spent. My skirt was bunched around my waist, blouse torn open with buttons scattered like confetti, tits heaving with each ragged breath, nipples raw from his pinching and twisting. The office reeked of sex, sweat, cum, and my arousal hanging thick in the air. Hartman zipped up his trousers, that weaselly grin plastered on his face as he admired his handiwork, my ass red from spanks, hole gaping slightly from his thick cock stretching me wide. "Fuck, Miss Brook, you took that like a champ," he panted, slapping my cheek lightly, the sting reigniting sparks in my core. "House keys tomorrow. Now get cleaned up, closing time's near."But he wasn't done. His hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to meet

Three days. That's all it had been since Elijah and Mum jetted off on their honeymoon, leaving the house echoing with an unnatural quiet. The absence gnawed at me, a reminder of the twisted knot my life had become, Elijah's ring on Mum's finger, Dean had vanished into whatever shadows he slunk into. But today? Today was mine. Matt was leaving tomorrow for his own vague work trip, and I wasn't about to let him slip away without etching himself into my skin one last time. I'd make him fuck me until we both forgot the world outside these walls.I was at the stove, stirring a pot of pasta sauce in nothing but a thin nightgown, the kind that clung to my curves like a second skin. The kitchen smelled of garlic and simmering tomatoes, but the real heat was building from the doorway where Matt stood, his eyes dark with that hungry gleam I'd come to crave. Without a word, he crossed the room in three strides, his strong arms scooping me up like I weighed nothing.My legs instinctively wra

I woke to the soft rhythm of Dean's breathing beside me, his chest rising and falling in the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. He was still asleep, face relaxed in a way I'd rarely seen, vulnerable, almost boyish without the weight of his secrets pressing down. My body hummed with the echoes of our reunion, sore in the best ways, but sticky and in need of a rinse. Slipping from the sheets quietly, I padded to the bathroom, figuring a quick shower would buy me some time to gather my thoughts. Who was he now, after all those months? What had pulled him back into my chaos?The water cascaded hot and steady from the showerhead, hitting my hair first, then streaming down my shoulders, over my breasts, tracing rivulets along my stomach and thighs.I closed my eyes, tilting my head back, letting the steam envelop me like a cocoon. The pressure massaged away the tension.Then, something warm and insistent touched my pussy, a soft, probing pressure that sent a jolt through

I was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for a quick snack, when suddenly I felt strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. I let out a squeak of surprise as Dean lifted me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his hips."Dean, what are you doing?" I asked, giggling as he carried me out of the kitchen and into the living room. "I was just looking for some yogurt.""Fuck yogurt," he growled, pinning me against the wall with his body. His hands roamed over my curves, squeezing and kneading my flesh through my thin shirt.I could feel his hard cock pressing against my core, even through our clothes. "Dean, I'm tired," I protested weakly, even as my body responded to his touch, my nipples hardening beneath my bra.He ignored my half hearted objection, instead focusing on unbuttoning my shirt with deft fingers. I heard the buttons pop open one by one, exposing my lacy bra beneath. Dean's mouth immediately descended on my cleavage, his tongue laving the sensitive skin."

~EmilyI sat down among the crowd, heart hammering under the layers of silk and lace, waiting for the master of ceremonies to call on the bride. That was me, Emily, the bride, poised to marry David, the young billionaire who'd swept into my life like a fairy tale upgrade. He was 27, all sharp suits and private jets, promising the security I'd craved. I was 24, fresh faced and ambitious, trading up from the grit of my past.It had been six years with Damon, my ex, not just dating, but tangled in a raw, addictive relationship that ended two months ago. Dumping him wasn't easy, the guy was a sex freak, a goddamn maestro with his cock and hands, fucking me into oblivion night after night. Positions I'd never forget, orgasms that left me boneless, his dirty talk whispering filthy promises while he pounded me senseless. But poverty clung to him like a curse, scraping by on odd jobs, no future in sight. I couldn't settle for that, couldn't doom myself to sufferings just because I loved