Novel & Cerita Belly Dancing Anime

In the second year after dropping out of school, I decide to cosplay as a dancer and stage a chance encounter with my husband, Don Vincenzo Rossi, in order to give him a surprise. However, I happen to run into my old classmates in the club. When they see me pole dancing in a skimpy outfit, they burst into laughter immediately. Tatiana Lazzari, the one who's throwing the party and was my former bully at school, mocks me for being a lowly, slutty bitch. My ex-boyfriend, Cristian Paleno, who had cheated on me with Tatiana back then, has his brows drawn into a tight frown. He seems to feel sorry for me. "If you didn't insist on breaking up with me back then, Aria, you wouldn't have gotten reduced to having to work as a stripper." In order to spice up the party, they drag me into their private room and force me to strip in front of them. When I reject them, they dump all sorts of alcohol and beverages onto my exposed skin and my thin, skimpy clothes. Then, they force me to kneel between Cristian's legs in submission. As Cristian leans in close to my ear, I can see the lust brimming in his eyes. "Come back to me, Aria. Otherwise, you can only remain as a horny bitch for the rest of your life." Out of sheer jealousy and rage, Tatiana kicks me in the gut right away. That's when Vincenzo hurries to my side and scoops me into his arms. By then, I'm in so much pain that I'm all curled up. He then glares at everyone else, whose faces have gone white from terror. "How dare you harm my wife and our unborn child! You can forget about leaving this room today!"

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

"It's all your fault. You know you did this to me," he said, cradling my face with his hands, lightly brushing his lips against mine. His breathing was staggered and he groaned when my body writhed under him. "You made a big mistake by coming into my room." "Sorry, I'll never com---" He sucked my lips with an intense urgency, his fingers digging into my waist. Caressing my tongue with his, he could feel my suppressed moan and kissed me even more passionately. "Fuck! I love the way you taste." His words were awakening some primal needs inside me. The way his lips slid across my skin sent heat straight to my core. His already crazy hard boner was flaring against my belly button. I was moaning against his ear while he licked my neck. He was going to make Adalyn his Luna in three days. What was I even doing here? I pushed him away with all my strength. What surprised me was that he didn't try to stop me from running away. He was clearly in more control of the situation than I was. *** Her mate thinks she is a human, and she lets him believe so... The ruthless Alpha Kian from the Storm Moon Pack wipes out an enemy pack only to realize that the enemy pack Luna, Nyla, is his second chance mate. Nyla is torn between avenging her soulmate's death and falling for the heartless man. Things go awry when the Storm Moon Pack members go disappearing one by one every full moon night. Will the alpha find out Nyla's true identity? Will Nyla bring doom to the alpha and his pack or give in to the mate bond?

18+ WARNING: This story contains extreme explicit content, including non-consensual to consensual themes, breeding, public humiliation, degradation, taboo elements, rough anal, and graphic sexual acts. Not suitable for readers under 18. Proceed with caution - this is dark, filthy erotica with no redemption arc. I was always the extra daughter, unwanted, unseen, and disposable. While my sister Lia was cherished, I was the one they sold to save everything. On her wedding day, I became the bride instead. Veiled and silent, I was forced into Adrian Laurent’s bed, the cold, ruthless billionaire who had fallen for her picture. That night, he didn’t know it was me. Drunk and burning with lust, he pinned me down, ripped my wedding dress open, and fucked me like a man possessed. He buried himself deep inside me with every brutal thrust, groaning Lia’s name against my throat while I came apart beneath him, shattered by unwanted pleasure. The next morning, disgust replaced his hunger. Humiliated and blamed for a crime I didn’t commit, I became his invisible wife, used, ignored, and broken. He only used me to satisfy his cravings for sex, fucking me whenever he sees me in the house, ruthless forcing his dick in to my mouth and dipping it down my throat filling me up with his cum. After fucking me like a sex slave, I would catch him having soft sex with my sister like he was a puppy before her. Until the secret growing in my belly gave me the strength to run. Years later, I returned. Rich. Powerful. Untouchable. But the moment Adrian sees me again, and lays eyes on the children who carry his blood, his obsession ignites. He will never let me go again. And this time, he won’t be gentle

“If you ever call that bastard my child again, I will yank it out of your belly!” My heart shatters like a knife plunged deep. I stay still, my body shaking. “Now sign these papers and get out of my life!” he barks, throwing the papers at me. “If I ever see you close to me or my territory, I will have you beheaded in the most painful way imaginable!” **** Isla Monroe had given up everything: her dreams, her wishes, even her best friend; just to please her cold, distant husband. She endured the silence, the neglect, the loneliness, hoping that one day he would change… that he would finally look at her as something more than just the trophy wife. The day she learned she was pregnant, Isla was accused of an affair with the gardener. The staff turned on her, her family cast her out, and Marcus believed them without question. Saving her unborn babies was more important than proving her innocence, so Isla left quietly. “From now onwards, I will be your mother and your father. I will never let those who discarded us come close to you.” She fled the city. Five years later, Marcus runs into two identical little children who look just like him. They have his red lips and deep blue eyes. He is instantly drawn to them. “Little one, who is your mother?” The children point to Isla, the wife he discarded, now powerful and determined to keep him from her children. “Get away from my children!” she hisses, urging the nannies to take them away. “Didn’t I tell you not to speak to strangers, my babies?” Marcus is shocked. But what will he do when he finds out she is married to his blood, his rival? Drama with a twist.

ADRIAN'S POV My head was pounding, a dull throb that echoed the frantic beat of my heart. I was hot, too hot, my skin slick with an unfamiliar sweat. I knew it instantly: drugged. One moment I was escorting Aria, basking in the glittering lights and dancing with her in the ballroom at her birthday party. Next, a wine from a waiter, a trip to the bathroom, and then… darkness. I blinked, trying to focus on the blur above me. Damien. My stalker. The man who’d been haunting the edges of my life for weeks, whispering cryptic claims of a shared past I couldn’t recall. He was on top of me, pinning me to the plush velvet of some unfamiliar bed. His eyes, usually so intense and unsettling, were filled with a disturbing mix of guilt and desperation. "I’m sorry, Adrian, I'm so sorry I had to do this, but I can't stand seeing you with her. Watching you rewrite our history... please, remember me. Remember us." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "I promise, I'll cherish you this time." Then, his lips crashed onto mine, a fierce, possessive kiss that stole my breath away. His hands moved over me, desperate and knowing, igniting a fire that both terrified and strangely thrilled me. Maybe it was the drug blurring the lines of reason. Or maybe… just maybe, deep down, my body recognized something my mind couldn’t. It responded to his touch with a shameful eagerness, a desperate need that mirrored his own. All I could do was surrender to the moment, to the heat, to the undeniable connection I felt with this man, Damien, as I returned his kiss with a fervor that shocked us both.

Alessia Morretti was a cop working diligently for Five years and trying to pin down a Deadly Mafia Lord who killed her parents through the Drug he manufactured. She made it her mission until she became obsessed, However Leonardo Ricci got impressed by her persistence and watched her every move and action till he became obsessed himself, he was done dancing around and watching her destroy his little hideouts. He's going to have her so he surrendered himself to the police instead, set her husband up and pinned the crime on him. Instead of being sentenced, he was bailed out and he blackmailed her with something extremely dangerous that would destroy her career for life.***Leo’s smirk widened as he continued to taunt me. "Imagine that. A dedicated little police officer like you, spread out in my backseat, moaning like a whore for the very man you’ve been trying to put behind bars." I felt sick. He leaned back, completely at ease. "I’m sure the department would love to see it. The media. Oh, and your family." "Shut up," I whispered. He didn’t. "Hell, maybe I’ll send it to your old rival in the force. The one who’s been dying to ruin your career. What was his name again? Oh, right. Detective Harris." I thought my body couldn’t handle more rage. I was wrong. I gritted my teeth, my whole body shaking as I hissed, "What the fuck do you want from me?" Leo’s expression turned smug. "Now we’re talking." He leaned forward, his voice dropping into something low, dangerous. "You’re going to sign a deal," he said. "You’re going to be my bride."

Delilah thought she married the perfect man. Charming. Respectable. Devoted. But then she discovered the man she trusted was a fraud — cheating behind her back, controlling her every move, and secretly stealing from the people who once believed in him. Her marriage wasn’t love. It was a trap. And when she lost the child she was carrying, alone, abandoned, and broken in a cold hospital bed, everything shattered. That’s when he returned. Thorne Weston. The estranged, adopted brother her husband never spoke of. The boy who once made her college life hell — cruel words, wicked smirks and relentless taunts. He's her tormentor. Her shadow. The one who looked at her like he wanted to ruin her… and maybe always did. He disappeared after graduation. Vanished. Forgotten. But now he’s back — colder, richer, and far more dangerous. And he’s watching her. And when she breaks down in the hospital, barely breathing through grief, he corners her in the shadows and makes her an offer that freezes her blood — and sets her body ablaze. “You want revenge? I want you. Be mine… and I’ll destroy him for you.” She should scream. She should hate him. But hate doesn’t explain the fire curling in her belly every time he whispers her name. Hate doesn’t make her knees tremble when he steps too close, smelling of smoke, leather, and sin. And hate isn’t what makes her crave the rough, twisted salvation only he can give. Because Thorne Weston is no longer a cruel boy with a chip on his shoulder. He’s a man forged in violence. Obsessed. Possessive. Unhinged. And he doesn’t just want her — he owns her. Body. Soul. And every shattered piece her husband left behind.

“I sat on his lap, my face inches from his, my breath unsteady, his heat pressing against me as his eyes held mine. He dropped the cigar into a tray, leaned in, and his lips almost touched mine, but at the last moment I shifted, pulling back, and his low chuckle rumbled against my skin. “Oh, girl, you do not want to go down that path,” he said, his fingers tracing down the line of my neck until suddenly he stilled, his hand brushing against the tattoo marked into my skin. He leaned in closer, reading aloud in a low voice. “Jareth Gleb.” The name froze the air between us. “That’s… my father’s name,” I whispered, my breath shaky, and the moment the words left me, I saw the shock flash across his face. He grabbed my shoulders, pulling me off his lap so fast I stumbled. ” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Paris was born of divine blood, a Zara Spiritborn, daughter of beauty and seduction itself. Her face could stop hearts, her presence could ruin men. After losing her parents, she fell under the rule of her cruel stepmother, Selene, who turned her beauty into a weapon. By day, Paris was a princess. By night, she was the realm’s most desired stripper, dancing for masked Alphas who would pay mountains of gold just to touch her. Betrayed by the boy she loved and sold to Vincent the mad king, unknowingly to pay off a debt, only to discover that this tyrant is none other than her father’s brother. A man whose cruel hands are capable of untold violence and unspeakable desire. But passion bends every law, every taboo. Vincent finds himself falling for Paris is his niece and the only woman he should never desire but yet cannot resist.

Despite having been married for 25 years now, my wife, Sasha Fuller, and I have done it less than ten times. During our 25th wedding anniversary, however, Sasha, who has always claimed to be uninterested in intimacy, ends up doing it 30 times with a male escort at a clubhouse. The couch ends up completely drenched. This is when I realize just how wrong I've been all along. Even after her betrayal is exposed, Sasha adamantly refuses to admit to any wrongdoing. On the contrary, she starts condemning me. Hurt and upset, I proceed to spend three days arguing with her about it. Even my friends and relatives try to talk me down. "You two have been married for over 20 years now. She's even the CEO of Fuller Group. What's the big deal if she sleeps with a male escort? Don't end your marriage over something this trivial." "All these years, a live-in son-in-law like you only managed to establish yourself with the help of the Fuller family anyway. Don't be so ungrateful." With my heart in anguish, I look at Sasha and say, "Cut off all contact with him, and things between us can go back to the way they used to be." However, Sasha retrieves a pregnancy test report from her briefcase and silently takes off her wedding ring. "Colin, I'm already 45 years old. Even if you can't have children, you can't expect me to go my whole life without one as well, right?" She strokes her belly without the slightest trace of guilt in her eyes. "If you insist on making a big deal over this, then I have no choice but to divorce you." My hands, hidden by my sleeves, clench into fists briefly before falling lax again. "Let's get a divorce then." Not only am I going to get a divorce, but I'm going to give Sasha and her affair partner a big surprise.