Dancer Ff Novels & Stories

"Tell me, was I ever more than a game to you?" Aria's voice broke. "I swear to you, it started as a game but I fell in love with you." Kai needed closure, her distance was driving him crazy, worse, she found out about the dare. "What about Raven?" Kai froze at her question, he couldn’t deny his attraction to the dancer. Aria could never trust his love for her as Aria because she had done things with him as Raven and for all she knew, Raven was another female to him. ~~~~~ Aria is an Omega werewolf at the bottom of the pack, living a dual life. No one knows her secret—especially not Kai, the arrogant Young Alpha who bullies her at school. He wants the mysterious dancer, Raven Star. He hates the quiet girl, Aria. But they’re the same person. As Aria struggles to keep her double life hidden, Kai starts falling for both sides of her but he's not the only one falling, Raven is more than every male can look passed. She can’t be both the Omega and the fantasy forever. One side will have to break. Kai has his flaws as well and Aria may never trust him again. Worse—on her 18th birthday, everything flips—her teacher wants to devour her, her manager looks at her differently, her Alpha bullies are at each other's throat and nothing makes sense to her. Who is Aria? Who will she choose?

“Fuuuck—ahh!” I gasped, my voice cracking. “That’s it,” he groaned, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. “Tight little pussy taking my cock so greedily. You were made for this, weren’t you?” *** On campus, she is that timid nerd nobody notices, Oversized hoodies, black-rimmed glasses, quiet enough to fade into the background. Even when facing the notoriously strict Professor Elliott, she would only lower her head, and mutter incorrect phrases. But at night, she became the most intoxicating dancer in the club. She wrapped herself around the pole, bent low, whining her hips, each movement drove men below into a frenzy. Bills were stuffed into the strap around her thigh, eyes couldn’t help but notice her. To cover her mother’s medical bills and to escape poverty, she takes a private party offering an equally obscene payout. The light swept across his face— *** “Don't fight it. I am going to pay you ten times what they pay you here for the rest of the night,” he said with a low voice “If you let me fuck you.” Ten times. *** She knew it was wrong. This was her professor. Her best friend's uncle. The man whose house she’d visited years ago when they were trying to get into UAC. She wasn’t going to do this, never, besides, money couldn't buy her dignity, or could it?

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

"I want you to be our personal stripper," declared Killian, his voice deep and cold, slicing through the air and quickening her heartbeat. The intensity in their gaze made her knees weaken, a sensation hard to ignore. Nervously, she gulped, managing to stammer, "S-Sir..." Atlas, positioned behind her, added, "We'll pay you thrice what you earn in this club, sweetheart." His warm breath teased the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her thighs, aware of their eyes lingering on her nearly naked form. The offer was undeniably tempting, almost too good to be true. Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, both successful bachelors in the city, were her employers in which she worked as their assistant, and the unexpected sight of them in the strip club where she worked as a dancer was nothing short of a shock. What added to the surprise was the outrageous proposal they were making! But, being the sole provider of her family, Claire find it hard to decline their offer. For her, money is everything, especially because of their family condition. Being with a sick mother and a brother battling with leukemia, Claire shouldered everything, and she in desperate to make a living. And so, Claire found herself agreeing. Be their stripper? That’s a piece of cake for her. Or so she thought. Fate takes an unexpected turn for Claire when she finds herself falling for the men she promised not to get attached to. However, avoiding two drop-dead hot bachelors proves to be a challenge, especially when fate seems to favor their presence. Becoming the personal stripper for the affluent and influential Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, Claire finds herself entangled in a web of emotions she never anticipated...

Slippery Cravings In the shadows of glittering cities and private sanctuaries of sin, desire doesn’t whisper — it devours. Slippery Cravings is a scorching collection of ultra-intense erotic tales where powerful, dominant men take complete control and willing women surrender everything in raw, unapologetic pleasure. From a seductive stranger in Montreal who edges a beautiful tourist against rain-streaked glass until she’s begging and shaking… to a forbidden onsen in Hakone where a mysterious Japanese master uses crimson Shibari rope to bind and torment an expat until she squirts violently across the steaming deck… to a rain-lashed Chicago penthouse where a ruthless billionaire keeps a bartender helplessly bound while he wrings multiple shattering orgasms from her helpless body… to a scorching Vegas pool villa where a billionaire developer ties a dazzling dancer to the railing and pushes her beyond every limit under the neon desert sky. Each story is drenched in exquisite sensory detail — the cool kiss of glass against fevered skin, the rough bite of rope, the thick scent of arousal mingling with steam, rain, and night jasmine. Extended, merciless edging sessions build unbearable tension until explosive, vision-blanking climaxes rip through bound, trembling bodies in powerful, gushing waves. Raw dirty talk, total power exchange, Shibari bondage, and intense post-orgasm dominance push every boundary. These women don’t just submit — they break beautifully, sobbing, thanking, and begging for more as they are claimed, used, and ruined in the most delicious ways. No limits. No fade-to-black. Only wet, relentless lust, exquisite torment, and shattering release. For readers who crave dark, immersive erotica that leaves you breathless, soaked, and aching — Slippery Cravings is your new addiction.

When Jeremy Sterling is framed by his rival, he immediately urges me to run for my life. "Save yourself! Pretend you never met me!" Despite being eight months pregnant, I leap from the moving car. I kneel in the snow for two days straight. Finally, I manage to secure a witness for his trial. The ordeal costs me our baby and leaves me with lasting health issues. The radiant principal dancer I once was becomes a frail shadow, gasping at the slightest breeze and surviving on pills. Later, Jeremy claws his way back to the top. He cradles the belly I fought through 18 rounds of IVF to have and makes a solemn vow. "When the baby's born, we'll name him Ryan Sterling. I'll never forget that you saved me." Tears of joy stream down my face. But shortly after I give birth, I overhear someone questioning him. "Mr. Sterling, this is Regina Gomez's flesh and blood. Is it appropriate to register Ms. Jenson as the baby's legal mother?" Jeremy gazes fondly at Carolina Jenson, who is holding our son, and scoffs. "When I was framed, she didn't even care about her own life. Do you really think she'd care about this baby? Besides, she already lost one baby back then. What's one more?" He shrugs. "At worst, I'll just break up with her. We never got the marriage license anyway." Outside the door, I clutch my aching stomach and turn away. Since we're not bound by a marriage license, this is where it ends for us.

His smirk deepened and he took another step toward me. “I want to fuck you.” His voice dripped lower, “As a dancer, you should be used to this by now.” I shook my head quickly, panic rising in my chest. “Yes, I do know. I mean, that’s what I’m meant for.” “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” He said, stepping closer. “I don’t have all night.” Before I could part my lips to answer, his hand gripped my thigh and lifted it. The fabric of my dress bunched up, exposing the fine lace of my panties. I gasped, trying to move away from him, but his other hand moved to the back of my neck, holding me in place. His mouth crashed into mine, claiming my lips with a hunger that left me breathless. Suddenly, I felt his hand slip under the elastic of my panties, his finger grazing my sensitive flesh. I whimpered into the kiss, trying to resist, but the sensation was too overwhelming. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as his finger moved further, sliding inside me with ease. I moaned in protest, the sudden intrusion causing a sharp pain as he broke the kiss, smiling wickedly. “Shhh…” he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He knelt, his hand still holding my leg up. “I’m going to need you to open those thighs for me,” he ordered, his tone dark and mocking all at once.

It wasn't just about what this lady was wearing. It was her. Something to do with the way she moved. Like she was one with the music and with the stage. The music pounded in a hypnotic rhythm that was unashamedly sexual, and she moved and danced in time to the beat, her movements graceful and seductive. So much confidence and balance. Balance that should have been nearly possible with the length of the heel shoes that she was putting on, but she made it look so natural... So easy, like she'd been born with high, slender spikes attached to her feet. There was something captivating... Almost hypnotizing about this woman, and Dimitri found him self leaning closer to watch. To take in every sight of this beautiful goddess. She was a vision of feminine perfection, every man's fantasy and Dimitri felt sharp claws of lust drag through his loins. On the opposite side, Dimitri saw a man half rise to his feet, a look of longing in his eyes. He didn't blame the man. What man wouldn't be captivated by such a beauty? -------------------- Nervous about assuming control of her father's company, Kelly Darcy relocates to San Francisco. In an attempt to do something she loved one more time before her life changed completely, she volunteers to replace a dancer in her friend, Elizabeth's fashion show and ends up in the arms of Dimitri Collins. It was supposed to be a one night stand. She didn't have to see him again. But Kelly realizes how wrong she was when Dimitri walks into her father's office... And now she has to fight to keep her father's company, while figuring out what she truly feels for Dimitri.

The Filthiest Collection You'll Ever Read WARNING: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT They say some lines should never be crossed. This collection crosses every single one. Behind the altar, Father Michael discovers Sister Claire on her knees—but not in prayer. His fourteen-inch cock and her broken vows create the most sinful confession the church has ever witnessed. In the strip club's champagne room, ownership takes on new meaning when the boss claims his newest dancer in ways that blur every professional boundary. Money talks. His fifteen inches scream. The megachurch reverend with the monstrous sixteen-inch secret destroys his young secretary across his Bible-covered desk while his wife leads worship downstairs. Hypocrisy has never been so hard. Married bosses fuck their secretaries on desks still warm from morning meetings. Divorce lawyers claim vulnerable clients on the same couch where they signed papers. Addiction counselors enable relapses—the sexual kind. Therapists finally act on years of inappropriate desire when the final session becomes anything but professional. From nuns breaking vows to brides cheating the night before their weddings, from politicians risking everything to doctors violating every oath—these twenty stories explore the darkest desires we're told to suppress. Wedding rings stay on. Consequences are real. The sex is brutal, explicit, and described in devastating detail. Size matters—twelve to sixteen inches of it—and these encounters leave permanent marks on bodies and souls. No redemption. No excuses. No limits. Just raw, forbidden passion that destroys everything in its path. Are you brave enough to read what shouldn't be written?