All Chapters of Naughty Dripping Desires (Erotica Collection): Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

I had always been the quiet one at the office, the curvy graphic designer who hid behind oversized sweaters and stayed late to finish projects no one else wanted. I'm Emily, and at twenty-six, I still blushed when anyone complimented my work. But that changed the night of the company retreat. We were at a secluded lakeside cabin resort, and the team-building activities had dissolved into an open bar and loud music by the pool. I was nursing a cocktail in a simple black sundress that hugged my full breasts, soft belly, and wide hips when he approached me. Ryan was tall, athletic, with tousled dark hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. He was the new senior marketing manager, the kind of guy who turned heads without trying. I never imagined he’d notice someone like me. “You look like you could use some fresh air,” Ryan said, his voice smooth and low as he leaned against the bar beside me. His gaze drifted slowly over

Morning light filtered through the cabin curtains, soft and golden, but the heat between us hadn’t cooled at all. I woke to the feeling of Ryan’s hard cock nestled against the curve of my ass, his arm draped possessively over my soft waist, fingers gently tracing lazy circles on my belly. “Morning, beautiful,” he murmured against the back of my neck, voice still rough from sleep and last night’s activities. He pressed a kiss there, then rolled me onto my back so he could look down at me. His blue eyes darkened as they roamed over my naked body, my full breasts, the gentle swell of my stomach, my thick thighs pressed together. “God, you look even better in the daylight,” he said, running his palm reverently from my breast down to my hip. “All these curves… so soft and warm. I could spend the whole day touching you.” I blushed, but the way he looked at me made me feel desired, not shy. “Ryan…” He smiled, that predatory glint returning. “Don’t get shy on me now, Emily. Not after you

The drive to Daniel’s apartment was quiet, but the tension in the car was thick. My heart kept pounding the whole way. Every time he shifted gears, his strong hand flexed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how that same hand had been wrapped around me just minutes ago in the locker room. We barely made it inside before he pushed the door shut and pulled me against him again. This time the kiss was hungrier, his big hands roamed over my back and grabbed my ass, squeezing firmly. “Been thinking about this since we left the gym,” he murmured against my lips. “Couldn’t stop imagining how you’d look spread out on my bed.” He led me straight to his bedroom, flipping on a small lamp that cast a warm, dim light. Without wasting time, Daniel started undressing me, then himself. When he pulled off his shirt, I couldn’t help staring at his solid chest and the trail of hair leading down his stomach. “Get on the bed,” he said, voice low and commanding but still gentle. I lay back on his shee

I woke up to the feeling of a warm, heavy arm draped over my waist. Sunlight was filtering through the curtains, and for a second I forgot where I was. Then I felt Daniel’s solid body pressed against my back, his breath slow and steady on my neck. Last night came rushing back — the gym, the locker room, the way he’d fucked me until I couldn’t think straight. My body still felt a pleasant ache, especially between my legs. Daniel stirred behind me. His hand slid up my chest, pulling me closer. “Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. It sounded even deeper than usual. “Morning,” I replied, suddenly feeling a little shy. He kissed the back of my neck softly, then nipped at it. “You slept well?” “Yeah… surprisingly well, considering how hard you fucked me.” Daniel chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I’ve been lying here thinking about doing it again.” His hand moved lower, brushing over my morning wood. I sucked in a breath as he wrapped his fingers around me an

Sylvaine’s POV I cursed under my breath as I shoved another log into the wood stove, my fingers already numb. The rental listing said “rustic charm.” It forgot to mention “no insulation” and “Wi-Fi is a myth.” A knock rattled the door before I could light the match. I wasn’t expecting anyone. The ferry had dropped me off hours ago, and the only other human I’d seen was the taciturn dock keeper who grunted directions. I opened the door a little, wind slapped my face, and behind it stood a woman holding a crate of firewood, snow clinging to her eyelashes and her dark curls. “You the American?” she asked. Her accent was thick, she was probably an islander. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Tormod said you’d freeze. He sent wood. And this.” She shouldered past me and set the crate down, then pulled a thermos from her coat. “Kaafi. It’s strong, you’ll need it.” I closed the door against the gale. “Thanks. I’m Sylvaine.” “Rivka.” She shrugged off her coat. She was broad-shouldered