Novel & Cerita Booktok Books Romance Spicy

"Breathe, naughty girl. Let me in." I try to relax, focusing on his fingers on my clit. I inhale deeply, exhaling slowly, willing my body to soften under his touch. The circles he makes there are slow and teasing, building heat again. Each rotation winds me tighter, the warmth spreading like liquid fire through my veins.

I took a big drink. "It gets very adult from here on." Molly leaned over and whispered in my ear. "A real-life version of My Best Friend's Dad?" Referring to the sex/romance book we were both reading. She leaned back. I turned and put my mouth next to her ear. "Wetter, harder, and true." I felt her quiver. I leaned back and looked at her. She was already opening and closing her legs. "Please. I'm dying to hear."

When he pressed against my back, I felt something cool and smooth against my inner thigh, the spine of a book. “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” he said softly, voice dripping with dark amusement. “One of my favorites for nights like this.” He dragged the edge of the closed book slowly along my soaked pussy, the leather teasing my swollen clit. I whimpered, pushing back, but he held me still. “Patience,” he chided. “We’re going to use literature properly tonight.” He set the book aside and replaced it with his cock, rubbing the thick head through my folds, mixing our juices. Then he thrust in deep from behind, making the ladder shake slightly.

The fact I was about to live out my long yearned fantasy… or the fact that it was with strangers that didn’t bother with names. I was naked. A sharp breath sliced the air…from who? I wasn’t sure “You’re so sexy,”Mr Cinnamon whispered in my ear. He smelt like cinnamon,hence the name. Cinnamon, green eyes, brown hair…strangers yet I had a feeling I would never forget these strangers for the rest of my life. Every doubt I might have harbored vanished the second I felt cinnamon’s fingers graze my folds. “And you’re so wet..” his breath was heavier

“Please don't slow down. Fuck me hard.” He obliged, hips slamming against mine with enough force to rock the desk. “That's it,” Mr. Sinclair urged. “Don't let that arse go.” My lips moved out of their own accord, moaning helplessly as I shut my eyes, the pleasure frying my brain cells. A fierce rush of heat flooded through my system, my pulse thundering through every inch of me. The room was thick with the scent of sex and stale sweat, and I almost shattered to the sounds of my pussy squelching shamelessly as his wet cock rammed into my dripping coochie.

I laughed so hard the composure I was building – of a high class woman – chartered, throwing back to Adele Ford, the simple resort owner surrounded by lovers of croissants, plus a dark erotic novel lover. I missed those days. God, I couldn't wait for this ‘honeymoon’ phase to be over so I could return to Greenville. “Hey, don't come back here empty handed. Buy as many spicy, dark, hot male lead novels as much as the capital’s bookshops hold! Also, I want spicy gist too. Create as much drama as your thick skin allows! Don't let those rich motherfuckers walk all over you, you're bigger than them now, squash them under your heels if you must!”

Heat rushed up my chest as I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Did you have fun tonight with Zoe?” he asked. “Yeah, we just watched some stupid romcom.” I tried to keep my voice steady, ignoring the throb building between my legs. Why did he have to look so good even half-asleep? He smirked slightly, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. The smell of his cologne mixed with masculine sweat made my head spin. “You’re a beautiful girl, Maddie.” My breath hitched. My nipples hardened instantly under my thin shirt. Was he flirting with me? Was this real?

“Damien not glued to your side today? Odd. He tends to keep his… projects close.” Serena’s brows drew together. “What exactly are you implying?” “Oh, come now.” Camille stepped closer, her perfume cloying, her smile widening. “You don’t honestly think you’re the first, do you? Damien has a pattern. Swoops in, plays the saviour, dresses his women up like trophies, parades them around… and when he’s bored, he doesn’t just walk away. He breaks them. Quietly. Completely.” Serena’s jaw tightened, though her voice stayed steady. “Thanks for the unsolicited TED Talk on Damien Drake, but I’ll pass.”

Opening it silently, I strained for signs of anyone else in the hotel who might recognize me or who I may know. Throwing caution to the wind, I stole down the hall, my feet lightly pattering on the marble floor as I hurried down to the bookshop. I looked around and found one I thought was fitting for the occasion: Lady Chatterley's Lover based on the title because I felt I could relate with her but half not trusting myself not to give in to the lust-filled pages and half gleeful with excitement, I chose the book and headed back to my suite. Shutting myself in the bedroom, I curled up on the oversized chair again and got lost in its pages.

It is the smell of our past night, of her fulfilled promise, of her desire for me. She cries out, a small stifled cry, when my tongue finds her outline through the silk. The rough texture of the lace, the warmth and humidity beneath, the salty, metallic taste that permeates the fabric... It is a sacrilege. It is a communion. I lick her, slowly, with a worshipper's devotion, through the fabric, until it is soaked, transparent, clinging to her skin. Her moans fall upon me like burning rain. Her hands cling to my hair, pull me, press me against her.