Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

I woke up to Lena’s mouth already between my thighs, her tongue sliding slow and wet through my folds, lapping at my clit like she couldn’t wait another second. My hips bucked instinctively, hands fisting in her hair as she moaned against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine.Sage stirred behind me, her body pressing close, hard nipples dragging across my back. “Fuck, that’s hot,” she groaned, voice husky with sleep. Her hand snaked around to pinch my nipple hard, rolling it between her fingers while Lena sucked my clit into her mouth, two fingers pushing deep inside me, curling just right.I came fast, thighs clamping around Lena’s head, gasping into the pillow as waves crashed through me. They didn’t stop—Lena kept licking softly through the aftershocks while Sage kissed my neck, biting down possessively.In the shower, water cascaded over us as hands roamed everywhere. Sage pinned me to the tile, fingers plunging into me from behind, thrusting hard while Lena knelt in front

His grip on the back of my neck tightened just enough to send a shiver racing down my spine, fingers threading into my hair as he tilted my head back further. I was staring up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted, completely at his mercy—and loving every second of it.“Good,” he growled, that deep voice vibrating through me like it always did in his videos, only now it was real, wrapping around me in the quiet bedroom. “Because Daddy doesn’t tolerate brats who don’t listen.”He released my neck slowly, his hand trailing down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then he straightened up, towering over me again, and nodded toward the floor between his feet.“On your knees, baby girl.”My heart slammed against my ribs. This was happening. Really happening. I slid off the bed without hesitation, dropping to my knees on the soft carpet, the damp spot in my shorts pressing cool against my thighs. I looked up at him—my stepdad, my secret obsession, Dominant Daddy Rex—his towel barely holding on

I woke up tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, sunlight stabbing through the curtains like accusatory fingers. My head throbbed with the remnants of last night’s vodka binge, and my body ached in places I didn’t remember hurting. I blinked at the ceiling, piecing together fragments of memory—screaming at the universe, daring the Devil, then… hallucinations of horns, tails, and endless, mind-shattering orgasms. I burst out laughing, the sound hoarse and ragged. “Oh my God, Annabel, you idiot,” I muttered to myself, sitting up and rubbing my temples. “Can’t believe I was daydreaming that shit. Drunk off my ass, fantasizing about the Devil eating me out. Pathetic.” The room looked normal—cluttered, quiet, no signs of demonic visitation. Just a hangover and a sticky mess between my thighs that I chalked up to some wild, booze-fueled self-love session I didn’t fully remember. I swung my legs off the bed, wincing at the soreness in my muscles, and padded to the bathroom. The mirror showed a wr

I never thought I’d end up here, living under the same roof as my stepdad, Alexander Voss—everyone just calls him Alex. My mom married him when I was nineteen, right before she took that overseas job with the NGO that keeps her gone for months at a time. Alex is forty-four, tall, broad-shouldered, with that kind of quiet intensity that makes rooms feel smaller when he walks in. He’s a private wealth manager, the kind who handles old money and new tech fortunes, always in tailored suits that fit him like they were sewn onto his body that morning.I’m twenty-two now, home from grad school for the summer because rent in the city is brutal and my internship barely covers coffee. The house is huge, modern, all glass and steel overlooking the bay. Mom’s barely been back since the wedding, so it’s mostly just the two of us rattling around in it. At first it was awkward—polite nods in the hallway, separate meals, separate lives. Then it shifted. Slowly. Like the way heat builds in a room you

The weekend after our first night together blurred into a haze of skin and heat. We barely left his bedroom. Food was delivered to the door; clothes were optional. He fucked me slow in the morning light, fast against the window at dusk, deep and filthy on the rug in front of the fireplace until we were both too spent to move.But by Monday, something shifted. The raw urgency settled into something darker, more deliberate. Alex had always been controlled—every suit perfect, every word measured. Now that control turned inward, focused on me. On us. On how far he could push before I broke open for him.It started small.He came home from the office later than usual, tie already loosened, eyes sharp. I was on the couch in one of his dress shirts again—nothing underneath—reading. He didn’t speak at first. Just stood in the doorway, watching me.“Up,” he said finally.I closed the book, stood. He crooked a finger. I walked to him.He took my wrist, turned my hand palm-up, and traced a slow