All Chapters of Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

ROONEY The pace of her mouth sucking on my dick synced perfectly with my own relentless thrusts. It was becoming almost unbearable, like an electric spike of pleasure that threatened to end everything even before I was ready. My breath was coming in ragged, shallow hitches, and the sound of her mouth—the wet, continuous sliding was echoing off the bathroom tiles like a drumbeat. I felt the first surge of a contraction at the base of my spine. I was right there, balanced on the razor's edge of a release that would have messed up her entire face. "Not yet," I wheezed, my voice sounding so tight like it belonged to a stranger.I reached down, my fingers tangling deeper into the thick, springy curls of her hair, and gently but firmly pulled my cock from the heat of her relentless throat. There was an audible wet pop as I pulled out of the tight grip of her mouth. Marge looked up at me, her dark eyes clouded with a hazy, predatory hunger. A thin string of saliva glistened on her bottom

ELARAThe heavy iron door clicked shut behind me, sealing out the damp, gasoline-scented air of the Bronx and locking me into a world where the rules of the Vance empire no longer applied. I followed a silent, masked attendant down a narrow corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and the faint, metallic scent of industrial cleaner. My heels clicked rhythmically against the concrete, a sharp sound that still couldn't drown out the pounding of my heart.The processing room was small, lit by a single, buzzing fluorescent bulb. And of course, he was right there— my prized possession, seated on a steel bench, his hands cuffed loosely in front of him. At that point I wasn't sure if it was because he was a threat. Or maybe it was just a symbolic reminder of what his identity was now—a sex slave. The stout announcer, a heavy potbellied man stood by, holding a digital tablet and a set of keys. "He’s been briefed, Mrs.—" the man started. "Don't use my name," I snapped on instinct, my voice cu

SLOANEThe cold marble of the kitchen counter bit into the back of my thighs as my breathing camw out in short gasps that rattled in my chest. I looked at the kitchen window, somehow terrified that a neighbor might see through the glass, but Jace didn’t give me time to dwell on the what-ifs."Relax, Sloane," he whispered, his voice dark and convincing. "You’ve spent enough time being the perfect Captain's wife. For the next hour, you’re just mine."His hands were large and calloused from years of manual labor, but as he slid them up my legs, his touch was surprisingly light. He didn’t rush. He moved with the practiced ease of a man who knew exactly how a woman was built. When he reached the throbbing part in-between my legs, his fingers didn't just thrust, they searched. He began to rub my folds with a slow, professional precision that made my head fall back against the mahogany cabinets."You’re so sensitive," he murmured, his thumb circling the lips of my pussy. "Do you know how lo

DEREKI looked at the heavy door, then back at Leila. A voice in my head tried to dissuade me. The badge on my belt felt like a branding iron, hot and heavy, trying to snap me back to be the rational man I was. But the fire in my veins was hotter. I knew the protocol. I knew the oaths I’d sworn. But I also knew the way Leila tasted when she was desperate, and right now, the air between us was thick with a chemical longing that made the law feel like a distant, polite suggestion.I drew in a long breath and made my decision."I need to move the suspect," I barked into the intercom, my voice formal and steady despite the roar in my ears. "Room 4 has a faulty light. I’m taking her to the secondary holding area in the basement for a more secure debrief."I didn't wait for a response. I grabbed Leila by the arm—not roughly, but with a possessive grip that said a thousand words. She didn't struggle or resist. She followed me out into the hallway. The rattling of her cuffs was a heavy remin

SOPHIAThe drive back to campus was the longest forty minutes of my entire life. I sat in the back of the black Mercedes S-Class, pressed against the window, trying to look like a woman who didn't give a fuck about the world and assassins, rather than a woman whose pulse was currently drumming in her ears.Every few seconds, I couldn’t help it—my eyes would dart towards the rearview mirror. And every single time, Cassian was already there. His gaze steady, cool, and completely unreadable reflecting the passing streetlights of the evening. When our eyes locked for the third time, a jolt of electricity shot down my spine so sharp I actually flinched. I looked away quickly, my face flushing. My stubbornness, which of course was usually my most reliable trait, was starting to feel like a thin sheet of ice over a very deep and dark lake.He didn't say a word. He drove in that maddening calm manner, his large hands gripping the leather steering wheel with a casual strength that made me won