Dark Erotic Romance Books Novels & Stories

I fist his hair, rock my hips, press closer, and tug on him. "Oh damn," he moans, burying his face further between my legs, his tongue doing evil, wicked, and wonderful things to my pussy. “Yes, oh God, yes, Mr. Walker. Eat my pussy.” I remember now that Amber and Jenny said he liked dirty talk, too. Liked telling them how bad they were. And fuck if that isn’t one of the big things that has been a feature in all of my fantasies. “I’m such a bad girl, Mr. Walker. Lick your dirty slut.”

Disclaimer!!! : Explicit erotica concept, raw and unfiltered desires. BDSM and Kink. Triggering themes. Do not go any further if you are not ready for the heat. No Intro, go in blind and enjoy the outcome. ----- ZINNIA’S POV I gasped as I moaned out my husband's name. I arched up towards him as he stroked my pussy with his cock. I writhed against the bedsheet moaning out loudly. “Fuck Ryder….oh babe!” I watched my husband slip his cock out of my pussy and give me a spank on my ass. Making me scream, and coming back to reality.

I was becoming a vessel, a beautiful, used object for their pleasure, and the degradation of it spiraled my own arousal to new heights. When Derek felt his end nearing, he too pulled out. His orgasm was a geyser, coating my stomach, mixing with Mark's spend. I came again, a sharp, clenching orgasm triggered by the visual of these men losing control on my body. Before I could catch my breath, Ben was there. He entered me with a gentle, sighing push. He made love to me, even in this context. Deep, worshipful strokes, his eyes locked on mine. "You're so beautiful," he whispered over and over. His kindness undid me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his thrusts. Whe

The night just fell making the whole room turned darker as Damon already broke the lamps but the moans of pleasure and growls of satisfaction filled the darkroom with only the proof of a big bad alpha. Damon knight claiming his only precious possession as his. But not as a possession but as his love. His first and last love. Damon fell on her sweaty body as they both ride their pleasure and came to an end. His face was dug deep inside her crook. The effect of drug turned off and his body started to get tired. But his heart still wanted to have her again and again. Moving away he stared at her face as her breathing was calmer than before. She opened her tired eyes and stared in his dark gaze

He pulled out so suddenly that a desperate, empty ache bloomed inside me, a hollow cry ripping from my throat before I could stop it. But Damien didn’t give me time to mourn the loss. His strong hands gripped under my thighs, spinning me effortlessly, lifting me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist on pure instinct, ankles locking at the small of his back, pulling him closer. The soaked lace of my panties was still twisted obscenely to the side, and the thick, throbbing head of his cock found my dripping entrance again, as if it knew exactly where it belonged.

My body hummed with satisfaction, but the fire inside me refused to die. Alex’s cum still leaked slowly from my well-fucked pussy, warm and sticky against my thighs as I lay beside him on the rumpled sheets. The clock on the nightstand glowed just past midnight, the storm outside showing no signs of easing. Good. I didn’t want this night to end. My stepson’s cock had awakened something primal in me, and at forty-two, I felt insatiable. Every inch of my curvy body ached for more of him—his hands, his mouth, that thick, relentless dick stretching me open again and again.

Pre-cum glistened like mercury in the moonlight. “Open.” She did. He guided himself past her lips, slow at first, letting her adjust to the chill of his flesh, the velvet hardness. Then deeper. Her throat relaxed under that silver stare; she took him to the root, nose brushing coarse dark hair that smelled of old books and iron. “Good girl,” he purred. “Now suck.” She hollowed her cheeks, tongue swirling, hands braced on powerful thighs. He groaned, low, reverent, fingers threading into her hair. Then he tilted her head back, exposing the long column of her throat.

Chloe's POV I thought I was just having a wet dream. I was floating in the heavy, warm darkness after spending half the night writing one of my erotica books. My body was stretched out on tangled sheets and I was wearing nothing but an old cotton T-shirt that had ridden up to my ribs. I thought the book I was writing was affecting my dream because someone was sucking my pussy in the dream. I felt a tongue. Slow and deliberate. It slid from the bottom of my slit up to my clit in one long, dirty lick.

Her long, midnight-black hair was spread across the pillow like dark silk, and her body bore the delicious evidence of their passion—faint hickeys blooming on her neck and shoulders, light handprints on her ass cheeks, and the sticky remnants of dried cum between her smooth thighs. Damien Cross woke up rock-hard, his thick morning wood pressed firmly against the soft, warm curve of her ass cheek. The sight of her like this—marked, used, and still so irresistibly tempting—sent a fresh surge of lust through him. He couldn’t resist. Moving slowly behind her, he gently spread her legs wider. Raven stirred, a sleepy, seductive smile curving her full lips even before her violet eyes opened. “Greed

A smile found my lips in the dark behind my closed eyes. Subtle. Secretive. Belonging to no one but me. I was no longer just Georgia Mason, the flawless acquisition, the diamond princess preserved and displayed and maintained to someone else's precise specifications. I had become something else tonight under a bookstore awning in the rain. Something dangerous. Something that had remembered, in the press of warm hands and a mouth that meant what it did, that it was free. She left the water on the marble. The small rebellions are where it starts. -- J