Claire Cyberpunk Romance Novels & Stories

“Now get naked, I need a release.” Claire was angry, this woman was ugly, and yet, all the men that were in her life that she wanted, wanted that woman. Claire decided then and there, as she undressed, that she would kill that girl, no one will have her. Stefen came from around his desk to have a view of his monitors, unzipping his pants he pushed Claire, bending her over his desk. There seemed to be a slight resistance, which fuel him on as he took his throbbing cock out and fucked her from behind, making her scream, all the while envisioning Victoria being the one. He will have her.

This was a fantasy. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “But I travel to New York often. For business.” He pulled back, his grey eyes holding hers, the familiar predatory glint returning, mixed with something new, possession. “I will have your address. And when I am in your city, you will be mine again. The rules will still apply.” He kissed her, deep and lingering. “This is not an end, Claire. It is an intermission.” As she lay in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, Claire knew her life was irrevocably changed. The Frenchman’s Flat had not just been a rental. It had been a portal into a world of dark, exquisite submission.

What I saw there made me do a double-take. Claire was translating what appeared to be a romance novel—and not just any romance novel, but one with explicit content. The scene currently on her screen involved the male and female protagonists in a moment of obvious sexual tension, with dialogue that left very little to the imagination. I couldn't help but chuckle softly at the irony. Here was Claire, exhausted and stressed, diligently translating steamy romance scenes with the same professional focus she brought to corporate documents. There was something endearing about her complete concentration on material that would have made most people blush.

Or else, Claire in her old mood would write romantic lyrics of her favourite songs with such clips of rain. He was about to drown deep in guilt when he received some of her pictures from Girard, and that carried him to a state of sheer bliss once again. Hunter leaned on the railing with a restless heave. Claire was looking like a beautiful princess who was enjoying some 'Me-time' by the window. Her face was bright with excitement as she was seen trying to collect raindrops in both her joined palms. Without thinking twice, Hunter set the new picture as his lock screen. He kissed it before revisiting her chat on his phone.

"What is it, Claire?" "I've come to accept that the bond we share runs deeper than friendship," she confessed, her eyes shimmering with vulnerability. "There's a love between us, Dakota. A love that transcends the ordinary. It's a connection that defies logic, and it scares me, but it also fills me with a profound sense of belonging. Claire confessed her newfound understanding, her voice tinged with a mix of hesitation and sincerity. She acknowledged the depth of her connection with Dakota, transcending the boundaries of mere friendship. In the face of adversity and Zane's departure, she had come to recognize the truth that had been concealed for so long.

But Zander, being the baddest beta male, did not find her appealing enough at all. He moved his eyes everywhere but her direction while she kept looking in his way, hoping for a small glimpse. It was not hidden from anyone how much that girl— oh, Claire , to be precise, liked Zander despite his dark eyes and 'don't mess with me' personality. "Why is it so? She is hot. A perfect cup cake you can enjoy for tonight." Clarke raised an eyebrow of naughtiness. He darted a dark naughty gaze that Zander only chuckled. He was not acting normal like himself, his friends did help him get out of his situation regardless. One can say, for the sake of looking normal to them, he acted to be okay. But from

Like the set of diamond bracelet and necklace which came with a pair of earrings and anklets, adorning her delicate skin with a bold flirtatiousness that drew attention to her. Andre was the fantasy she hadn't been greedy enough to dream of pulling away from the pages of a book, the restraining confines which held thousands of men like him captive. Yet here he was in the real world, recreating her life into the chapters of a romance novel, and after going through security with a Swarovski mask concealing her face, Clara stepped into an even more surreal world where pleasure escaped the confines of convention and sex became artistic. The familiar faint aroma of aphrodisiac mist and sounds of

And I fucking love it. Then a noise dragged my eyes to one of the suites—a woman moaning, loud and messy, as a male escort drove her into the mattress. She was a regular, always coming here to get wound up and broken open. And watching her… it made Claire slam into my thoughts again. Who would’ve believed Claire could be that wild in bed? Ian is a blind fool—not seeing the fire he had right under his nose. But that’s on him. His stupidity is my goddamn gain.

It looks like she will have a heart attack from every second that she will stay here with Andromeda, her lies will pile up one after another! She also can’t let Andromeda be of aid to her, she might discover odd things that she possesses, such as having a napkin...she’s sure Andromeda doesn’t get monthly menstruation, so there’s that. She would be caught with one tiny mistake, and she can’t risk it. She must follow as much as she can, what was written in the n***l. As what was narrated… Claire, the cheerful and clumsy girl lived with Nixie for two months before leaving for a bigger project. Despite being taunted by the breath-taking villains, she continued being a gentle and lovable girl.

“Yeah. I just moved to Vargo—really, it’s my first week in the big city. I—you startled me, but I’m okay.” “Good to hear,” Bri murmured, taking a careful step closer, her eyes flickering with intent—and something unmistakably like lust. They stood like that for a beat too long—stillness thick with heat and something unspoken. The memory of pain still clung to the edges of Bri’s mind, but it no longer owned the space. Something else had moved in. Warmer. Riskier. The woman smiled, shy. “I’m Claire.” Bri’s lips twitched upward. “Bai Ryeong. But most people call me Bri.”