Cock Vore

CONTENT WARNINGS: Past trauma and revenge. Explicit sexual content. NB: Any resemblance to a real person or actual event is purely coincidental. —----------------- “I’ve been jerking to your photo every night for five years,” Tristan's calloused hand guides me along his crotch. “Aren't you happy to see me, Bunny?” “You murdered my father. Broke out of jail. Shot my fiancé at our wedding altar.” My voice flares. “Happy to see you?” “Because you’re the love of my goddamn miserable life,” he seizes my chin, forcing me to meet those frosty, possessive eyes. “The moment you said ‘I do,’ you became mine. You bear my hickeys, my ring, and my name. And it’s our wedding night, Husband.” Who chains their husband naked and dangles him from the top of a skyscraper on their wedding night?! Death isn’t romantic. I’m not a masochist. So why the fuck is my cock hard? Tristan grins, “Still lying to yourself?” I bite down on his lips. He doesn’t flinch even as blood trickles out. “Say that again and lose your tongue.” His grin widens with bloodied teeth. “Right, you're not into men… just me.” —------------- Tristan ‘Mad-Bishop’ Alister got busted by the Feds and locked away for five years. Now, he’s back to claim his obsession: Carlton Dickson. Tristan isn’t just Carlton’s captor. He’s Carlton’s former step-father, and their connection is more taboo than their forbidden affair. As Tristan serves justice to those who destroyed him, using ways that would make the devil shiver, Carlton is trapped between hatred and a dark desire he can’t escape. Can Carlton survive the truth of their relationship to each other? Or will they burn in the flames Tristan’s lit to consume everyone in his path?

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I fuck. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my pussy ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your pussy soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my cock or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.