Booktok Spicy Books Fantasy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Hi!!! Just wanted to pop in and say thank you for taking the time to read my work. This is the final book in my Unspoken Trilogy. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Book 1 - Unspoken Promises Book 2 - Unspoken Truths Book 3 - Unspoken Desires If you’re starting this novel without reading the previous books - you may get a little lost with all the characters and the fast paced events. ——————————- Chapter 1

When she left, the vibrator returned to the low setting, and I was able to concentrate on other things much better. “So tell me about your sexual tastes, Tiffany. What have you done before?” He was cutting to the chase quickly enough. “I’ve had normal sex and given blowjobs. I’ve kissed other girls before.” Saying it like that seemed like I was really inexperienced. “Okay, then what would you like to try?” The vibrator had me going crazy. “I’m open to just about anything. I’ve never tried anal, but I’m not against it. I really liked the scenes in 50 Shades of Grey where the woman got tied up. That seems like it’d be really hot. I don’t know. What else is there?”

I hope that you enjoyed the new updated story for spicing up the ranch. I have quite a few other books listed on GoodNovel if you're interested in my style of writing. Some are erotic stories such as the assistant, Swedish sugar, the alpha son needs his match, and keeping it within the family. I also have science fiction romance such as Stardust. We also have quite a few other romance styles both in the past like a timeless love. And in the present such as the dangers of dating.

I could feel his presence at my back—tall, warm, the faint rustle of his cassock as he moved closer. I kept reading, line after line about denying the body, about offering suffering to God, about the dangers of self-indulgence. My voice shook on the parts about “touching oneself in secret” and “fantasies that defile the soul.” By the time I reached the end of the first page I was breathing faster, nipples tight against my dress, the ache between my legs worse than it had been all day. Father Chris stepped around the table so I could see him. He leaned down, one hand resting on the open book, the other hanging loose at his side. His eyes locked on mine.

I whimpered, free hand pinching a nipple hard, twisting till it burned. My hips rolled, chasing the pressure building low in my belly. I added a third finger, scissoring them, imagining his girth splitting me. The coil snapped—orgasm crashing like a wave, pussy spasming, squirting clear fluid onto the sheets. I bit my pillow to muffle the scream, thighs quaking, aftershocks rippling as I licked my fingers clean, tasting my own tangy sweetness. Bloody hell, if he only knew.

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His strong hands spreading my thighs wider, with his mouth devouring my swoleen clit while he whispered how sweet I tasted, and how long he had also wanted to taste me. The fantasy increased flooding my senses, as I kept pumping my fingers faster. I imagined him bending me over his desk, yanking my skirt up around my waist, and thrusting his thick cock into me from behind. I could almost feel the way he would fill me, with his hard and thick cock. I imagined as his hips were slapping against my ass with every deep and powerful stroke. In my head he was gripping my hair, pulling my head back so he could have access to growl filthy words in my ear.

Eventually, with my arms full, I found Nicholas still in the fantasy section. He was engrossed in a thick hardcover, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Find something good?” I asked, approaching him. “Possibly. But I think you might like this one.” He handed me a paperback with an image of a woman wielding a sword on the front. I read the title aloud. “‘The Lycan Chronicles.’ Hmm, never heard of it.” “It’s a fantasy series,” he explained, still flipping through his own book. “Great world-building, complex characters...” He glanced up and smirked. “Plus, it has some... steamy scenes.”

he interrupted. “Stop following me Jax,” I commanded establishing my authority changing the conversation because at the end of the day he was just a massive fan of mine. “No, I want recommendations on books, preferably the slow burns with two people trying to fight their connection when they were soulmates from the moment they met but they were blind.” I know what he was doing. He was trying to describe our romance but ours was a tragedy, not a romance in my books anyway. I huffed annoyed and played his game, by saying “I would recommend Birthday Girl by Penelo-“

Emma said, walking deep into the living room. "Thanks." She walked to a set of shelves on the far side of the room, running her fingers over the spines of his books. A lot of them were classics, novels by Dickens, Voltaire, Dumas, Melville, and Hemingway. She smiled when her fingers ran over the spine of not one, but three copies of Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. There were modern novels, too, including Stephen King and Sidney Sheldon, but they didn't look as well read as some of the others.