Best Short Story Books For Adults นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He slid the book across the desk toward me. “Read.” I glanced down. The title was unfamiliar. But the image on the cover made my throat dry. A woman on her knees, blindfolded, arms behind her back. Submission. Captivity. Pleasure. “I—what is this?” “A test.” I hesitated, then opened the book. I started reading. It was graphic from the start. No gentle build-up. Just hot skin, whispered commands, legs spread, lips parted, wet tongues, whimpers, begging. The words tasted strange in my mouth. Heavy. Vulgar. But I read them anyway.

“I have a book I think you might enjoy." "What is it about?" I asked him curiously. "Most servants can't read. I usually read for them." "It's a book of short stories. Most are fairy tales- Half-fish people want to be full people. A princess trying to beat her pre-destined fate. Children who are abandoned in the woods try to find their way home. There are several stories within the book." "Sounds interesting," I replied, watching Bart rejoin us. I got up quickly to help him with the trays.

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"The house has been... boring." Maya looked from Julian’s intense scowl, to Leo’s wicked grin, to Finn’s steady gaze. She had planned on reading books by the pool for a week. Suddenly, she realized that wouldn't be happening. "Well," she said, lifting her chin. "I hope I can provide some entertainment." ### Maya quickly realized that "relaxing" was not on the agenda. After Julian had stiffly shown her to the guest suite, a room that felt more like a luxury hotel than a bedroom, she had sought out the library, hoping to find a quiet corner.

BEFORE YOU READ Nobody is coming to save you. Themes: Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Size Difference, Breeding Kink. This story features a possessive, reclusive hero who hasn't seen a woman in years. Expect primal play, rough sex, and intense possessiveness. (***) Gabrielle

It won't happen again. "No, it's fine," I lied smoothly, trying to ignore the way my core tightened just remembering what I'd done while listening to him. "I needed to get some writing work done anyway." He leaned his heavy shoulder against the wall, sipping his coffee while his silver eyes thoroughly studied my face. "What do you do?" "I write books," I said. An eyebrow lifted, his interest clearly piqued. "An author? That's Impressive. What kind?" I stared into my cup, definitely not wanting him to know what kind of books I wrote. "Romance."

I walked close to the shelf, reaching my hand up to grab the packet but my hand didn't reach it. "Fuck being short!" I grunted getting on my tippy toes but my hand didn't even graze the packet. I guess I will have to jump, I jumped up and this time my hand grazed the packet but it only pushed it more away from me. Just as I was about to give you and just settle for the ice cream alone, a rigid warm body pressed me into the counter. I closed my eyes as I could literally feel every hard abs of his on my back.

EMMA God, the air in the house felt thicker than the humid summer night pressing against the windows. I was still buzzing from dinner—too much wine, too many lingering looks, and way too much skin on display. I’m Emma, twenty-one, fresh out of college with a body I knew turned heads: tight, athletic from years of running and yoga, perky C-cup tits that loved showing off under thin tank tops, and an ass that filled out my tiny cotton shorts perfectly. But tonight, the real heat wasn’t coming from outside. It was coming from her—my stepmom Sarah—and him—my stepbrother Jake.

They looked like… gods. Damon, Draven, and Damian Ryder. My brother's triplet roommates back in college and currently some of the most successful businessmen in the city. The last time I saw them physically was ten years ago. What the hell were they doing here, and when did they get so fucking hot?

And there were still dozens and dozens more that I hadn't touched. These stories were addicting. And as I continued to read through them, I felt my body heating up more and more. To an insane level, frankly. Almost as bad as it was just a few days ago. I also discovered that my main addiction was the daddy-daughter stories. They were completely my favorites. I'd probably need to talk to a therapist at some point to figure out why that was. (That was the little joke I made up to lighten the mood in my head.)