Dirty Imagines Novels & Stories

THIRD PERSON P.O.V The women were thoroughly soaked to the skin with water, their hair was matted and plastered to their body, their heavy makeup was already flowing down their faces giving them a scary look. Damien frowned as he could make out shrimp scales and pieces leafy vegetables. The heavy smell of fish permeated the air and made him step farther away from them. "How could this happen" "Who did this? My hair! My makeup!" They all screamed as they accessed their bodies.

Immortal Cravings Part 1-Temptation If there was ever a time to be worried about my safety, it was now. This very moment. Sneaking through the factories. Hunting creatures which shouldn’t exist. Persona Sanguinis. Person of the Blood. Vampires. Well, one kind specificlly. Sanguinis Perfide. Traitor of the blood. Somewhere on this dock, in this seething scent of fish, rubbish and motor oil, was a rogue vampire. A rogue which my boss wanted dead.

A smile breaks through my expression when I see the image of a large, veiny dick she once sent to me and asked me to imagine the dick belonged to one of my rejected mates. “Imagine what you're missing out on, Beth.” She’d attached the words to the image. To buttress her point, she sent me a picture of a woman sandwiched between two masculine figures, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her hair swirling around them. It's a beautifully sensual image. And she wrote, “This could be you, my dearest Nun.” I jerk my attention away when I realize I'm actually envisioning myself in the image, between four particular gorgeous Nobles… Who I should not be thinking about like this ever again.

I found myself fixated on it, a perverted thought igniting: I wanted to pour wine into that hollow and lick it clean. As she swerved, the light caught the diamonds, momentarily blinding me. A brief, searing vision flashed in my mind: her naked, the dress pooled at her feet, that necklace still around her neck. Her legs spread wide, inviting me to plunge my fingers into her. Two or three, if she were a good girl. Would she ride my fingers recklessly? Fuck! I needed to know. My cock twitched, dragging me back from my depraved fantasy. I willed myself to think of anything gross, anything to calm the fuck down. This was not the time or place to get a hard-on.

Inside was a dream; tall walls, open space, windows so big you could see everything yet nothing at all. The isolation of the property both excited and scared me, and the longer I walked around holding Armani’s hand, the more I began to feel a little hopeful again. My concerns over the last day felt silly — presumptuous. Though a part of my brain was still very aware that this could turn sour very quickly, I allowed myself to enjoy this simple few minutes with my fake husband and even smile, just a little bit.

I’m going to drown in my mind in a room of small armchairs trying to kill me. All around me, the portraits on the walls were laughing at me. I don’t remember what the photographs looked like before, but as they started cackling at me, they all started to look like weird holographic images that shifted between the Shit Witch wearing my mate’s face and the old ‘Good’ Witch. It was freaking me out.

“I love it… I’m your little slut… fuck me harder while he watches—please, I want him to see how deep you go—” Dante groaned loudly and started pounding me faster, harder, the sharp slap of skin on skin growing louder and wetter. His heavy balls smacked rhythmically against my swollen clit with every thrust, sending electric sparks shooting through my core. The last traces of the ice in my ass had melted completely, leaving me feeling impossibly full, filthy, and dripping.

The ad flashed an image of a dimly lit room, surrounded by mirrors, with the tagline "Experience your deepest desires in the mirror room." Curiosity piqued, Bella clicked on the link and was led to a website that promised the ultimate sexual experience. It was a place where one could live out their fantasies of being ravished by a mysterious entity while watching themselves in countless reflections. Intrigued, she signed up for a session, eager to explore this new world of pleasure.

It was the silliest picture of my cat. The pinned contact name at the top read, "Darling".

The break was brief—just long enough for cool champagne to be pressed to Lila’s lips and for gentle fingers to wipe the sweat from her brow. Victor and Jade moved around her like they’d choreographed this a hundred times, murmuring praise that made her float even as her body still trembled from the last orgasm. “Look at her,” Jade said softly, tracing a fingertip through the mess Victor had left across Lila’s back. “Absolutely perfect.” Victor returned from the toy table with a sleek black plug—medium sized, tapered, with a gleaming emerald jewel at the base that matched Jade’s gown. He held it up so Lila could see.