All Chapters of Her Dirty Pleasures: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

Nova’s POVI don't answer him right away.We're still tangled together on the bed, his cock softening inside me, the mess of everything we've done cooling on my thighs. My heart hasn't slowed down. Part of me is still waiting for the moment this stops being real—for him to flicker, for the solid weight of him to turn back into light and pixels and disappear.He waits. He doesn't push. He just keeps those slow circles going on my back, while his other hand rests low on my hip."I want you to stay," I finally say. My voice comes out smaller than I meant it to. "I don't... I don't want to wake up and find out this was some kind of dream."Something in his expression shifts. It looks like relief. He leans in and kisses me. His mouth moves against mine like he's sealing something. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine."I'm not going anywhere."He starts moving again in small, shallow rolls of his hips that keep him buried inside me while he hardens for the third time. The

Mia’s POV"You're going to take him in your mouth now, sweetheart."Dante's voice comes from everywhere. The stage lights are blinding. The crowd is screaming. I'm on my knees on the velvet floor, completely naked, completely exposed, and I don't remember how I got here.But I remember wanting this.Riven steps in front of me. His cock is already hard, already leaking, the tip glistening under the lights. He strokes himself slowly, watching me with those mismatched eyes."Open," he commands.I open my mouth.He pushes inside. His cock slides past my lips, heavy on my tongue, and I moan around him. The taste of him is salt and skin and something darker. Something I crave."That's it," he groans. "Look at her. Look at how she takes it."I can't see the crowd. The lights are too bright. But I can hear them — thousands of women screaming, cheering, watching me on my knees. I should be humiliated. I should be horrified.Instead, my pussy clenches."Keep going," Dante says from somewhere be

Mia's POVThe leather sits snug against my throat, cool metal tag resting in the hollow. It doesn’t choke. Dante’s fingers hook the front ring and tug once. “On your feet.”My legs shake. Kael’s hands slide under my arms and lift me like I weigh nothing. The second I’m upright the lights feel sharper, the crowd louder.Lila’s somewhere out there, but I can’t find her face anymore. All I can feel is the collar and the three men who just finished using every hole I have.Riven circles me slowly, mismatched eyes catching the gold light. “Still with us, campus girl?”“Yes.”“Prove it.” He tips his chin toward the edge of the stage. “Walk.”Dante keeps the short leash in his fist as I walk. Every step I take is measured by the length of that leather. My thighs are slick, inner muscles fluttering, cum already sliding down toward my knees. The audience can see it. They cheer when a fresh drop hits the velvet.Kael stays behind me, one palm splayed over my lower belly, holding me steady. Hi

Lila's POVThe stretch is unbelievable.Cole pushes forward in one long, relentless thrust until he's buried to the hilt inside me. A broken sound rips from my throat. He's thicker than my husband, longer, and he doesn't give me time to adjust. He pulls back and drives in hard, forcing another inch deeper."Oh fuck," I gasp. "Fuck, you're so—""Too much?" His voice is strained."No. Don't stop. Please don't stop."He doesn't stop. He pulls back and slams in again, and this time I cry out loud enough that he claps a hand over my mouth."Shh," he warns against my ear. "They're all right there. You want them to hear?"I shake my head frantically. But God, the thought makes my pussy clench around him."Fuck." He groans, feeling it. "You're squeezing me like you've been starved for this.""I have been. I've been so starved."He moves properly now—deep, powerful strokes that make the wooden railing creak under us. Every thrust pushes me forward until my hips are pressed tight against the w

Maeve’s POVThe Blood Moon rises fat and red over the trees.I stand at my kitchen window and watch it climb, my fingers pressed flat against the cold glass. Every story I have ever heard says the same thing: when the moon turns this color, the werewolf king; Kieran of Black Ridge hunts for blood. People lock their doors, and bar their windows. I unlock mine.My hands are trembling as I turn the deadbolt. Not from fear—or maybe it is fear, but not the kind that makes you want to run away. It is the kind that makes you want to run toward something, even if that something will tear you apart.I have always been drawn to these woods. Even as a child I would stand at the tree line and feel something pull at the center of my chest, a strange magnetic ache that I could never explain to my mother. Lately the pull has become unbearable. It hums under my skin constantly, a low vibration that makes it hard to sleep, hard to eat, hard to think about anything except the darkness beyond my pro