Lahat ng Kabanata ng Her Dirty Pleasures: Kabanata 141 - Kabanata 150

I’m bent over a counter, scrubbing a shelf I already cleaned ten minutes ago, trying to ignore the fact that my dad’s best friend is watching me.The cabin was my dad’s idea. His best friend, Cole, of twenty years has a place up north that needs cleaning before winter. I needed a weekend away from the city. I thought this would be a good idea. But Cole is forty-six, divorced, built like a man who chops his own wood with an axe.Every time I’ve seen him, my thighs press together. I’ve been attracted to Cole since I saw him pull his shirt off at a July party and my entire understanding of what older men could look like rearranged itself. ISince then. ’ve touched myself to the thought of my dad’s best friend, and the guilt has become part of the arousal.Now, I’m alone with him.He’s been putting me to work all morning, and saying “yes” to anything he tells me makes me wet for some reason. I’m bent over reaching the lower shelf, my shorts riding up, the hem barely covering anything, w

Lena’s POVHe ties my wrists to the headboard with rope he pulls from the bedside drawer like he’s been waiting three years for this exact fucking moment.The calmness in the way his lands loop and tighten the ropes makes my pussy clench. He takes his time, like he has all night to ruin me.“Too tight?” He slips one finger under the rope.“Not tight enough.”The corner of his mouth twitches.He pushes my legs back until my knees hit my shoulder. I’m folded open for him. Pinned. Helpless. He enters me slow and the angle from here is deeper than the counter was.His cock head presses against my cervix on the first stroke and a sound rips out of me so loud the trees outside probably heard it.“There’s nobody for miles.” He drives deep, hands gripping the backs of my thighs. “Scream all you want, Lena. The only person who hears you is me.”“You like hearing me.” I pull at the rope, wrists twisting. Every thrust jolts my body against the headboard. “You’ve been imagining the sounds I make?

My oiled hands are on Cassian’s lower back, his cock is getting hard against the mattress and I’m trying everything in my willpower to pretend I don’t notice.Let me rewind.The basketball team won tonight, and three of the starting frontcourt texted me at midnight to come to their hotel room immediately.I’m the team physiotherapist. I’ve been traveling with these men for three months, taping their ankles, icing their knees, keeping my hands professional and my eyes above the waistline while my brain does something very different.So when the text came through, I told myself I was going because it was my job. I packed my massage oil, wore tiny shorts and a sports bra. Because deep down, I’m a liar.What I didn’t expect when I arrive was all three of them in the room at once.Cassian — the power forward. Six-five, dark skin, and growls when he lifts. Isaiah — the small forward, pretty face and talks too much. And Kieran — the center. Six-seven. The biggest of the three. He barely says

Nell’s POVBefore I can answer, six hands are on me. Cassian’s palms spread the oil across my stomach in slow, firm circles, working it into my skin the way I work knots out of their shoulders.They slide up and cup both my breasts, oiled fingers squeezing, kneading my tits like dough, his thumbs circling my nipples until they stiffen and ache under the slick pressure.He pinches one hard enough to make me gasp.Isaiah takes my legs. He pours oil on my inner thighs and works it in with long strokes from knee to hip, each pass going higher, his thumbs brushing closer to my pussy.“You’re still dripping from all three of us,” Isaiah says, sliding two fingers through my oiled, cum-soaked pussy. “And somehow getting wetter. How is that even possible?”“Because you won’t stop touching me,” I moan, my hips rocking into his fingers while Cassian kneads my tits.Kieran takes my ass. He rolls me slightly onto my side and pours oil over my cheeks and works it in with both massive hands, spreadi

Elara’s POVMy father sold me for six hundred gold pieces to a vampire lord.The monster who bought me is standing at the altar waiting for me to walk toward him like this is a love story and not a transaction.The great hall is packed. Every person from our town is here because Lord Sorin doesn’t invite, he summons.And when an eight-hundred-year-old vampire summons your village to watch him marry the girl he purchased like cattle, you show up or you vanish. Simple arithmetic.Sorin stands at the altar in black from throat to boot. Pale skin, dark hair pushed back from a face that would be beautiful if it belonged to anything human. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and eyes so dark they swallow the candlelight instead of reflecting it.I hate him. I hate that my legs are carrying me toward him. And I loathe the slick heat between my thighs that started the moment I saw him.The ceremony is short. Words in a language I don’t recognize, are spoken by a man in robes who smells like incense