Best Short Story Collections Novels & Stories

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

are all of those boxes full of your course books? Wow! Looks like you’re really into making the most of this opportunity. But it’s great... in today’s world, it’s... huh, wait a minute... is this... this can’t be your course material. It’s... a... sex manual... um... more like a masturbation guide... holy shhh... really? Oh no, no. Don’t look so alarmed. I wasn’t really expecting this... but I don’t mind at all. In fact, I encourage it.

Chapter 2: Finger fucking in class I walked into Professor Harlan’s lecture hall the next morning wearing my shortest skirt yet, my heart pounding with excitement. I had no panties underneath, it was just my smooth, bare skin that was already getting slick from the thrill of what I planned to do. After yesterday’s little show in Blake’s office, I knew I had his attention, and now I was going to push him further.

The flash was a bright, shocking light in the dim room. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper. “Documenting my masterpiece,” he said, a cool, detached look in his eyes. “Art is meant to be seen, Elara. And I have a very specific, very private collector who is interested in my work.” My heart leaped into my throat. A collector? He was going to show these pictures to someone else? The thought was terrifying, and humiliating, and incredibly, undeniably exciting.

EMMA POV I couldn’t believe what I was doing as I walked into the gym for my second session. The tiny black workout shorts I’d chosen were practically illegal — they barely covered half my ass cheeks, riding up with every step and showing the soft underside of my curves. My cropped tank top clung to my heavy breasts, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how hard my nipples already were. I felt exposed, slutty, and so fucking turned on I was already wet before I even saw him.

I scream, not minding if I would draw attention. “Ahhh,” he groans and rams into me. Deeper. Fucking hard! I feel my cunt swell with his seeds, ones I wish would germinate inside of me. Lust in love, I come. Hard. Squirting and moaning like a bitch. New story alert: You’re locked in a room with your father's best friend. A freak, perverted sadist. You crossed the line by inviting your boyfriend over. To punish you, he straps you in a collar and drags you to his dark, kinky room, and teaches you how bad girls are handled.

Dark Temptations – Men who don’t just touch… they claim. Pleasure & Power – Games where surrender is as dangerous as resistance. BDSM & Forbidden Kinks – Chains, blindfolds, rules… and the wicked thrill of breaking them. Primal Possession – Being chased, caught, and taken until you can’t breathe without wanting more. Obsession That Burns – Love that feels like fire, beautiful, consuming, impossible to escape. This is not for the faint or the shy. It will touch you in places no one else dares, leave you burning, and keep you wanting long after the last page.

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains breeding/impregnation fantasies, rough sex, dominance/submission dynamics, and werewolf erotica themes. Reader discretion advised – triggers for non-consensual undertones in fantasy context, size difference, and intense power play. This is going to be a long series. Enjoy ;) CHAPTER ONE

My day job at the university library paid the bills, but it was these rare books that kept me alive. I set the package on my wide oak worktable in the living room, the one cluttered with notebooks, highlighters, and half-translated scrolls. The rain pattered steadily against the tall windows of my small but cozy apartment. I should have opened it immediately. Instead, I made myself a cup of chamomile tea, changed into soft black lounge shorts and an oversized sweater, and told myself I’d dive in after lunch. I never made it that far.

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.