All Chapters of All Yours (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Chapter 1I had his cock in my mouth before the Uber even pulled away from the curb.The back door was still swinging shut behind us when I dropped to my knees on the floor mat. The car lurched forward half a second later—driver accelerating like he wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening but I was already between Noah’s spread thighs, palms flat on the rough denim, nose brushing the growing bulge that strained against the fabric.He didn't say anything. Just watched me with that half-lidded, amused look he gets when he knows I'm about to embarrass myself in the best way. His hand came down slowly, fingers sliding into my hair, like he was deciding how far to let me go, how much control he would give me before he took it back.I popped the button with my teeth—stupid, showy, but it made him exhale sharply through his nose, a quick hiss of breath that sent a fresh throb straight to my clit. Zipper next. The sound was o

Chapter 1 God, the second the bass hit my chest I knew how the night was going to end. I was already wet, already aching, already sure; someone is cuming inside me tonight or I’m going to lose my mind. The floor was disgusting… tacky with god-knows-what, heels sticking every other step. Bodies were everywhere with cheap perfume and booze breath, everyone shiny under the purple-red lights. I shut my eyes for a second just to feel it: the thump-thump-thump sinking into my heart, into my clit, turning every pulse into this greedy little tug between my legs. My thighs squeezed together on instinct like that was going to help. I’d ditched my friends after the second vodka-soda. Or maybe they ditched me. Honestly, I stopped looking. I didn’t want small talk or “are you okay?” I wanted this—arms up, hips loose, dress creeping higher every time I rolled them. No bra, no panties, just this stupid thin black thing sticking to my skin now that was damp everywhere. Then a big, firm hand lande

Chapter 1 “Spread your legs wider,” was the first thing he said after forty-five seconds of small talk. We were still standing in the middle of his living room—door barely closed behind us, my coat half-off one shoulder, his keys still dangling from his fingers, when he said the words. No “nice place you have got here,” no awkward laugh about the weather we’d already exhausted on the walk from the bar. Just that low, calm command, like he’d been waiting forty-five seconds too long to say it. I froze for half a heartbeat, pulse kicking hard under my jaw. Then I did it. Shifted my weight, stepped my feet wider apart until the hem of my dress pulled tight across my thighs and the cool air of the apartment kissed the damp cotton between my legs. The lace thong was already soaked through—had been since the bar when his knee first brushed mine under the table and the movement made a fresh slick slide down my inner thigh. He didn’t smile or compliment me. Just dropped his keys on the si

Chapter 1The air between us already smelled like sex—sweat, arousal, the promise of what my cunt was about to do to his fingers.We were still in the hallway—the door barely shut behind us, lock clicking once like an afterthought, my back pressed flat to the wall, his chest close enough that every breath I took pulled more of him into my lungs. No lights on yet. Just the dim orange glow from the streetlamp outside the window bleeding through half-closed blinds, striping across his jaw, his collarbone, the front of my dress where the fabric already clung damply to my skin. We hadn’t even made it to the living room. Hadn’t kissed. Hadn’t said more than “hey” and “you smell good” before the scent of my own wetness hit us both. He didn’t speak. Just reached down, hooked the hem of my dress with two fingers, dragged it up my thighs till the fabric bunched at my hips and stayed there. No panties—hadn’t worn any since I left the house thinking about him on the train, the whole ride home a

Sophie Carter leaned over the conference table, palms flat against the cool glass surface, studying the final slide deck one more time. At thirty-eight, she carried the kind of beauty that came from discipline—sharp cheekbones, dark hair, charcoal pencil skirt hugging her hips, white silk blouse unbuttoned just enough to hint at the black lace beneath when she moved. She was the youngest senior VP in the firm's history, known for closing impossible deals and for the way her stare could make junior analysts forget their own names.Across the table, Lucas Hale sat perfectly still, the only sound from his side was the soft tap-tap of his stylus against the tablet as he made one last annotation. Twenty-six, reserved to the point of near-invisibility in meetings, his handsomeness reveals itself slowly: neatly trimmed dark hair, hazel eyes behind its frames, broad shoulders filling out his tailored navy suit. He spoke only when necessary, and never once had Sophie caught him looking anywher