All Chapters of Midnight Cravings: A Forbidden 18+ Erotic collection : Chapter 371 - Chapter 380

Three days had passed since Professor Vale fucked me senseless in his house. My body was still deliciously sore, and every time I sat down in his lecture, I could feel the ghost of his thick cock stretching me. He had barely looked at me during class today — treating me like any other student — which only made the anticipation worse.After the final lecture ended, I received a text from an unknown number:“University Library. Restricted Section. 10 PM. Do not wear anything under your coat. If you’re late, the punishment will be severe.”At 9:55 PM, I stood outside the old university library wearing only a long beige trench coat and heels. My heart raced as I slipped inside using the spare key card he had left in my campus mailbox earlier.The library was completely dark except for a few emergency lights. I made my way to the restricted section on the top floor — a quiet, secluded area filled with rare books and tall wooden shelves that created private little alcoves.I found him wait

The following week became a blur of secret meetings and overwhelming pleasure. Professor Vale kept his promise. Every single night after sunset, I went to his elegant house on the edge of campus. He had turned one of the spare rooms into what he called my “training space” — a beautifully furnished room with a large four-poster bed, a full-length mirror wall, and various toys he planned to use on me. On the first night of “proper training,” I arrived at 8 PM sharp wearing a simple black slip dress like he had instructed. The moment I stepped inside, he was waiting in the living room with a glass of red wine. “Strip,” he ordered calmly. “Then kneel in the center of the room.” I removed the dress and dropped to my knees on the soft rug, completely naked, back straight, hands resting on my thighs. Professor Vale walked around me slowly, inspecting every inch of my body like I was his prized possession. “Tonight we begin your real training,” he said, voice low and authoritative. “Yo

The ballroom glittered like a cage made of gold and crystal.I stood beside my husband, Marcus, smiling politely as he laughed a little too loudly at his boss’s joke. My champagne flute felt cold against my fingers, but the rest of me was burning.I was wearing a sleek emerald-green gown that hugged every curve of my body — the deep V-neckline showing off my full breasts, the slit running high up my left thigh. Marcus had barely glanced at me when I came downstairs earlier. He’d only said, “Don’t embarrass me tonight.”But someone else was looking.Damien Blackwood.The CEO of Blackwood Enterprises — and my husband’s boss — stood across the room like he owned the entire world. At 38, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dangerously handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was styled back, and his sharp jaw was shadowed with just the right amount of stubble. But it was his eyes that trapped me — deep, piercing black that seemed to see straight through my expensive dr

Two days after the penthouse, I received a text from an unknown number during my lunch break.“Blackwood Tower. 42nd floor. Private elevator. 6:30 PM. Wear a coat. Nothing underneath. Don’t make me wait.”I knew it was Damien.All afternoon, my mind raced. Marcus had been extra affectionate since the gala, completely unaware that his boss had fucked me senseless against a window while he slept. The guilt should have eaten me alive. Instead, every time I thought about Damien’s thick cock stretching me, my pussy throbbed.At 6:25 PM, I stood in the underground parking garage of Blackwood Tower wearing a long black coat that reached my knees. Underneath, I was completely naked — just like he demanded. My nipples were already hard from the cool air and nerves.A private elevator opened. I stepped inside and it rose smoothly to the 42nd floor without stopping.When the doors opened, Damien was waiting.He looked devastating in a tailored charcoal suit, tie loosened, the top buttons of his

Marcus surprised me on our second wedding anniversary with dinner at an upscale rooftop restaurant. He was trying — flowers, a new necklace, even holding my hand across the table. But every sweet gesture felt hollow. All I could think about was Damien’s cum still faintly leaking out of me from our last secret meeting two days ago.My phone vibrated in my clutch.I excused myself to the restroom and checked the message.Damien: “Rooftop. East corner table. 15 minutes. Tell your husband you need fresh air. If you don’t come, I’ll walk over and introduce myself properly.”My stomach flipped. Damien was here. In the same restaurant.I returned to the table and forced a smile. “Baby, I need some air. The wine is hitting me. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”Marcus nodded, already checking his work emails. “Take your time.”I slipped out onto the dimly lit rooftop terrace. The city skyline sparkled below. I spotted him immediately — Damien Blackwood, sitting alone at a private corner table, loo