All Chapters of WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

Maya’s povI didn’t say anything. I just stared unable to find my voice.“Come here.” He commanded.My body moved. I was kneeling like a dog on the bed right in front of him before I knew it.He smiled. “Good girl.”He moved closer and he pulled his pants down a little more. His cock Jumped out slapping my face hard. Precum spilled on my face.His dick stood right in front of me.He looked down at me with that hungry stare. "Suck it," he said. His voice was low and rough, like he couldn't wait anymore. I felt a shiver run through me as I got on my knees in front of him. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, beating so fast I could hear it in my ears.His cock was right there, hard and thick, the veins standing out along the shaft, waiting for my mouth. The tip was shiny with a drop of pre-cum, and it made my mouth water just looking at it.I leaned in close, my breath hot against his skin. My lips brushed the tip first, soft and teasing. It was warm and a little salty from the pre-c

Maya’s povThe tour ended on a night that felt too quiet for something so loud to be over.The last show was done. The lights went off one by one. The crowd faded into memory. The buses were packed. The voices that once filled every space grew thin, then gone.No more rushing halls.No more locked doors.No more hiding.I stood outside the venue with my bag on my shoulder, watching people say goodbye like it was nothing. Like weeks of noise and heat and late nights could end with a hug and a wave.Adrian stood a few steps away, talking to his manager. Calm. Easy. Like this was just another ending he had seen before.I hadn’t.When he finally turned to me, his eyes searched my face the same way they always did. Slow. Deep. Like he was trying to read what I wouldn’t say.“So,” he said. “That’s it.”“That’s it,” I replied.The words felt small.We didn’t touch. Not yet. We just stood there while the night moved around us. Cars passed. Someone laughed nearby. A door slammed shut in the di

Rhea’s povI didn’t know long I was staring for. Until—“You’re staring,” Elliot said lightly, nudging my knee under the table. “Try not to scare them.”I smiled at him. An easy smile. The kind that keeps questions away.“I’m listening,” I said.Across from me, Ivy froze for half a second.Not because of Elliot’s words. Because my eyes were already on her.I noticed Ivy the moment we sat down.Not in a casual way. Not in a polite way. It was In a way that felt very sharp and clear. It was like my body had already decided even before my mind could.She sat straight, shoulders relaxed, confidence worn like something natural. But there was restraint too.The way she even laughed felt very careful. The way she chose her words too. And under everything, there was something that did not want to rest. Something hungry.She tried to hide it.She wasn’t doing a good job.I felt her eyes on me even when I did not look. It was a steady thing. Warm. Curious. Almost careful, like she did not want

Our lips met slow, deliberate, like we were testing the waters. Hers were soft, full, tasting faintly of the wine she'd been drinking—tart and sweet. I pressed in harder, my mouth opening against hers, and she responded right away, her tongue slipping past my lips, exploring with a confidence that made my pulse race. The kiss deepened fast, hungry, our breaths mingling hot and quick. Her hands slid up my back, fingers digging into my shoulders, holding me there.I pushed her back gently, guiding her toward the counter. She went willingly, her body yielding under my touch. The edge of the sink bumped against her hips, and she hopped up a little, sitting on the cool marble with her legs parting slightly. I stood between them, my hands on her thighs, sliding up under her skirt. The fabric was smooth, silky, and I bunched it higher, exposing more of her skin—pale and warm under my palms.She broke the kiss for a second, her eyes locked on mine, dark with want. 'Ivy...' she murmured, her v

The buzzer cracked through the arena like a fired gun.Overtime. Game winner. Final score: 3–2.The crowd was still losing its mind as the last three skaters drifted off the ice together—Captain, Sniper, Enforcer. Always in that order. Always locked into the same rhythm that never broke.The rest of the team rushed ahead, voices loud, gloves flying, victory already turning into beers, interviews, and plans for the night. Within half a minute, the locker room was thinning out fast. Saturday routine.They didn’t join it.By the time that the heavy doors were closed shut behind them, the steam was already turning the air to fog. It was just the three of them now. The room was smelling like pads that was soaked with sweat. Muscle rub. And something that was heavier. Something that had been building since the season started.Jaxon rested back on his stall. His dark tattoos glowed on his wet skin. The water was dripping from his hair like he worked lazily at his skates laces. His lips were