Novel & Cerita Dirty Wicked Prince Book

I whispered. A few moments later, a notification popped up on my phone. A new post from Serena. The picture was of a room blanketed in jewels—rubies, sapphires, emeralds, piled up like small mountains. The caption read: 【Just said I was in a bad mood, and he sent all this. So dramatic! Good morning, my Prince of the Night. 】 The comments were a flood of envious praise. I put my phone down. I couldn't produce a single tear.

“Make out. Both of you. And don’t be quiet. Tell each other what dirty little sluts you are.” Sophia smiled and pulled me close. Our wet bodies pressed together, breasts rubbing, as we kissed deeply. Our tongues slid against each other, the kiss turning sloppy and hungry. “I’m such a filthy slut,” Sophia whispered against my lips. “Letting two men use my holes while my best friend watches.” I moaned softly, grinding against her thigh. “I’m worse. I’m a professor who fucks her student and begs for more. Such a desperate cock-hungry whore.”

He seemed tired of crying. "W-Why did she leave me so early? Why did she disappear from me right away? Why, Zariya? She disappeared so I can't even tell her how I really feel--" He couldn't continue what he was going to say because it weeps with weeping. The Prince in front of me now is the opposite of the cheerful and mischievous Prince I met. Prince Dern is very different today. I witnessed his weakness. I can't bear to see him in his condition now.

I was so taken by that intoxicating feeling that it took me a long time to notice that while the prince of lust kissed my mouth, my neck was gently sucked by someone else's lips. Vraxlon moved far enough away to see my face, and there was a cruël smile enveloping his lips. He took a step away to the side, and right in front of me, Octavius, prince of pride, appeared. It was a much more disconcerting sight than any of my most perverted dreams. Octavius was completely naked, and his deeply blue eyes shone with the tone of perfect malice.

Their casual cruelty sends a wave of fury through me. I press my hand to the door, feeling the vibrations of their callous conversation. My jaw clenches as I push it open, the hinges creaking as if the castle itself is protesting their vile intentions. As the door swings wide, the stench hits us—a rancid mix of sweat, blood, and the fetid air of the dungeon. The scene inside is worse than I had imagined. The princes, those who should have been the defenders of their people, have debased themselves entirely. They’ve become nothing more than animals, driven by their base desires, blind to the reality of their downfall.

"Yeah, we better get out of here, before I break the window and jump out to eat that human down there." *** Gail continued the story about the eighth book. " Prince Aima, that's the title. Talk about Prince Aima, of course." "Prince? Haahhh... Maybe you should change the title to Princess Aima," Al commented. "Do you know?" "Of course. I'm a hybrid, but I'm not stupid. I read a book about the fall of the Aima Kingdom. And from there I could already guess that the Prince was a woman." “Lucky guess, huh?”

What was a book like this doing in his mother's collection? Hesitantly, he read on. It was an erotica, but unlike any he’d skimmed before. This one was relentless, visceral. It followed two main characters: a cruel, hedonistic prince and a cunning commoner who clawed her way to power by becoming his fiancée. The narrative was a twisted dance, first painting her as the ambitious heroine, then pivoting to dissect the prince’s depravities with a clinical, almost sympathetic eye. Just as it dared you to understand him, it revealed the commoner’s ultimate betrayal, transforming her into the story's true villainess.

But then it did aptly suit my character, as you well know by now. Doris licked her lips as she read the racy narration. If this book was as good as its two predecessors, she was in for another night of her life. She turned the page and took a deep breath. ‘He said he was a Prince of some exotic country in Eastern Europe, and it was his eighteenth birthday. A day when he becomes a man, and that this was his birthday present from his uncle, the king. I believed every word he said, and he sure looked the part. The private villa, the cars,

And she liked to be fucked and abused and derived some masochistic pleasure out of it. Ian was the youngest prince in the family, and he recently turned 24. He was known for his insatiable appetite and ability to drive a woman insane with lust. His older brothers were rumored to be cruel and abusive. Damian, who was next in line for the throne, had a beautiful wife until last year, but she got sick of his twisted acts in bed and ran away with my cousin, a gorgeous man with a big dick. They both were rumored to be dead now.

"So from that day on, I grew closer to Kevin. Until... I found out he was a prince. At that time my hatred spiked, imagining how stupid I was. Why am I friends with him?! I've never met the royal family before, but I kept imagining that they must be crueler than nobles! So, since I knew everything, I never wanted to see him again. "One day, while walking on a busy village street, there was a noble boy who also succeeded. survived the massacre on New Year's Eve then. He accidentally hit me, then he fell and I fell too. I was surprised because suddenly he cried and called his friends who also managed to survive. He says I pushed him so he fell and got hurt. How hypocritical isn't it?! That's w