Cyberpunk Fantasy Novels & Stories

Genre: Explicit Steamy Fantasy Romance | Dragon Shifter | Dark Romance | Delayed Pleasure | Sex Toys Characters: Ziaanat: A headstrong, curious mortal woman with dragon blood she doesn’t know about. Tovian: The unhinged, brooding Dragon King, tormented by centuries of hunger, lust, and a prophecy that names Ziaanat as his only release. . .

My fingers found my clit—already slick, already begging—and the first slow circle made my back arch so hard water sloshed over the edge. “Oh God,” I whispered, even though I knew it was the wrong name to say. I stroked faster. Two fingers sliding over and around my clit while my other hand came up to pinch my nipple the way I imagined he might. The water made everything slippery, louder. I slipped one finger inside myself, then two, curling them the way I’d done every morning for weeks. My hips rocked up to meet my hand. The fantasy took over completely—Father Chris’s voice in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers replacing mine, thicker, surer, pressing that spot that made sta

It was a city of **Scraps**. Buildings were made of giant, discarded motherboard components. The streets were paved with the glass of billions of broken smartphone screens. And standing at the gates of this Frankenstein city were the "Glitches." They didn't look like us. Some were half-finished, lacking faces or limbs. Others were characters from old fantasy games—knights with pixilated swords, dragons made of green wireframes, and mages whose spells were nothing but bursts of static. They stood in a silent, menacing line, their eyes—if they had them—glowing with a bitter, abandoned heat.

"Let's go save the NPCs." Ren pressed his eye against the rubber cup of the thermal scope. Through the Vanguard’s flawless 100% graphical filter, the environment looked exactly like a high-end, dystopian sci-fi game. The graffiti sprayed on the concrete walls—which Ren knew were actual Swahili protest slogans from the real-world slums—were rendered as glowing, jagged alien runes. The "Scourge" enemies patrolling the catwalks looked like terrifying, asymmetrical monstrosities with chitinous armor and glowing red eyes.

“You see, after years of seeking great knowledge from his powerful ancestors in the spirit realm, Zokman told me that I could attain immortality by drinking the blood of my unborn. That is why I take the life of any female who ever becomes pregnant with my child and I take the unborn baby’s blood to be used in an immortality ritual.” Erin thought she would faint. She had never heard anything so disturbing or as barbaric as what Nikjin was telling her now. This fellow was either very stupid or downright insane to allow his shambolic shaman to deceive him so cruelly. How could he believe that killing his unborn babies and consuming their blood could make him immortal? How could he believe some

Not even close. What kind of fantasy world was this man living in?

The scent of ozone was instantly replaced by the artificial smell of expensive carpet cleaner, high-end leather, and the faint, bitter aroma of corporate espresso. Dante’s iron fingers were still clamped onto the edge of the glass table, his knuckles groaning as the rusted metal of his digital form began to draw actual mass from the London environment. The binary code was hardening into bone, the "Void-Lead" was calcifying into raw iron, and the gray ash of the slums was falling in thick, heavy flakes onto the polished mahogany floor. The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that a cage is still a cage, whether it’s made of silver data-bars or a glass-and-steel skyscraper in a city that doesn't know w

The bed, and other assortments in the room being to hover, their eyes roll in the back of their head and the fluid in the chalice beings to disappear… Nirvana is the village that is granted to the noblest of humans. There are no whore dins or any fornication happening out in the public, though it still has its criminal element. The hydralisk guards march through the streets of the village like they owned the very ground that they walk on. The one who helms the platoon is none other than Valyn himself. The guards spread out to cover the back allies’ ways where there are small hovels and apartments. Two guards for each place of living. The hydralisk that is in charge of the living spaces pulls

He used teleportation while the fairy is defending herself, he then cast the fire behind him and that's how the fairy got wounded. In order to strike at her, you must attack side to side. The warlock is a genius, but both of them is a dirty player. They have tricks. They are the Liar, Traitor, and Gross caster. All are fighting, including the leader of every race. The ground is shaking, the clouds were moving, and the forest was collapsing. What more will be affected? What made them become like this? A man was laughing in the concealing shadow with a wine of his glass. He was flattering while looking at them. “So fascinating,” he expressed to himself.

"Could it be the sadness of a lost dream "A dream delayed, no more." Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside. The collar was set with an enchanted amethyst that Xaro swore would ward her against all poisons. The Pureborn were notorious for offering poisoned wine to those they thought dangerous, but they had not given Dany so much as a cup of water. They never saw me for a queen, she thought bitterly. I was only an afternoon's amusement, a horse girl with a curious pe