Try Begging Me

Tempt Me, Master is not for the faint of heart. Step into a world where desire rules, control excites, and every touch burns hotter than the last. From the office to secret bedrooms, from strict dominants to willing submissives, these stories explore forbidden pleasures, raw lust, and intense erotic tension that will leave you breathless. In these sizzling tales, every heartbeat, every glance, and every whispered command drives women to the edge of pleasure. Lou is caught in the strict, commanding grip of her boss Dante, surrendering completely to his control in private sessions that are as painful as they are intoxicating. Jane signs a daring contract with her boss Eric, where obedience becomes her ultimate aphrodisiac. And in other stories, midnight temptations, secret encounters behind closed doors, and one night of unrestrained ownership ignite passions that can’t be tamed. Each story is a journey of craving and surrender — where lust dominates reason, and every desire is explored without shame. If you love erotic affairs, commanding lovers, and forbidden pleasures that leave the body trembling, **Tempt Me, Master** is your ultimate escape. Enter only if you’re ready to obey, crave, and succumb to the heat of desire.

CONTENT WARNING. EROTICA ROMANCE: RATED 18+. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you want..." My senses were reeling, my body jerking against his hand. "I want you to fuck me," I said. "I want your gorgeous fucking cock in me..." "Nice," he smiled against my cheek. "More..." My voice was just a whisper. "I want to feel you inside... I want you to fuck me, hard... I want you to take my ass, and make me fucking squeal..." "You want to be stretched, little girl? Is that what you fucking want?" Oh fuck, my clit was clanging like a church bell. "Yes... Oh, fuck, please... I want you to stretch me..." "Gonna open you up so fucking wide," he growled. "Gonna take your fucking cunt with two fat cocks, stretch you nice and fucking big... two big fucking dicks in your sweet little pussy... gonna feel so fucking dirty... gonna feel so fucking tight..." "Yes..." "Wanna see inside you... into your pink fucking hole..." "Yes..." "Gonna make you wet... make you stretch... make you fucking gape for me..." The heel of his palm was so hard against my clit. "Fuck..." I ran my fingers down his chest, over his abs, until I found the swell in his pants. I squeezed him through his jeans. "Fuck me..." "I fucking shouldn't..." he groaned. "Fuck..." But he was grinding against my hand, moving over me. "Just a quick one. Hard and fast. Please..." "I can't..." he said. "I can't..."

Some rules are meant to keep us pure. These stories spread your legs and make you beg to break them. Stepbrothers who shouldn’t touch you, but shove you against the wall and make you scream their name. Protectors who swear to guard your body, only to break every oath as they fuck you into the mattress. Strangers who taste like sin and don’t stop until you’re ruined. Masked lovers who hide their faces while they spread you open and make you beg. Even supernatural beasts who mark you, breed you, and take you raw until you’re theirs completely. This isn’t sweet romance. It is raw heat that claws, bites, and devours. Dangerous, possessive men you should run from, but instead, you’ll spread wider, sink deeper, and take every filthy drop they give you. Every page is a dare: moan louder, take more, surrender deeper. Because once you give in to the forbidden, you won’t just fall, you’ll beg to be destroyed. Welcome to your new addiction.

⚠️ Contains emotionally intense and mature themes. (R 18+) "Look at me, Hazel." Diego approached, his breath burning Hazel's ear. "I only ask for one thing... beg me." Hazel shook her head, her knees trembling. "No... you can't—" Diego smiled faintly, darkly, full of triumph. "If you beg... I will never let you go." Hazel Anne Quinn, 24 years old — a small-time journalist who no one takes seriously. Living a mediocre life, abandoned since birth, and writing erotica as a ghostwriter at night to survive. No one ever wanted Hazel... until Diego Ronan Blake appeared. A senior actor and tycoon at 34, a man who makes the world bow down and causes women to fight to be his. But Diego becomes obsessed with the one woman who avoids him — Hazel's grayish-green eyes, filled with fear yet a hint of defiance, make Diego lose control. For Diego, Hazel isn't a fantasy — she is a necessity. He wants Hazel as his, body and soul, and this obsession drives him to tear down the walls that have protected Hazel, only to rebuild them with himself at the center. Hazel can be afraid, can hate, can resist... but as long as she doesn't beg, Diego will never stop. Because once Hazel gives in — even just once — Diego will never let her go.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. Xoxo. Beg me to take you," he murmured. His voice was rough, reverberating through my bones. "Beg me to bend you over that couch and fuck you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Please." He paused. Then, to my everlasting dismay, he pulled back, removing his hand from my pants and leaving a wet, cold trail behind. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, turning my knees to pudding. "No," he said. It took a second to register. "What?" I cried. "Why? You asked me to... why?" And he laughed. He laughed at me.

My boyfriend came from a wealthy family. We had been together for seven years, yet he had never given me a single gift. When he proposed, he even asked for the diamond ring back so he could return it for a refund. Later, when we were about to register our marriage, he complained that the paperwork fee was too expensive and said it wasn’t necessary. However, not long after that, he registered his marriage with his childhood sweetheart instead. He even booked the most luxurious hotel in the entire city, eager to throw a grand engagement party. The shock was too much for my grandmother, and she suffered a heart attack. I dropped to my knees and begged my boyfriend to return the salary I had entrusted to him over the years, as I needed the money to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. He simply wrapped his arm around his childhood sweetheart and pretended not to know me. He said he would never help a lazy beggar who only knew how to freeload. Then, he ordered the security guards to throw me out. Later, my grandmother died on New Year’s Eve, her final breaths drowned out by the sound of fireworks outside. While everyone else celebrated the holiday season, I handled my grandmother’s funeral alone. At the same time, I accepted a job offer from a major overseas company. When I returned home to get my passport, the man—who had just finished introducing his sweetheart to his parents and was clearly in a good mood—saw me and assumed I was still throwing a tantrum. For the first time, he spoke generously. “Alright. What could possibly have happened to your grandmother? At worst, I’ll make it up to you with a luxurious wedding.” What he didn’t know was that from the moment my grandmother took her last breath, I no longer wanted to marry him.