Emma Brooks Hot Novels & Stories

Somewhere in my succulent feasting, Brooke gave out a strangled squeal. "Oh that," Brooke said casually. "That's one of Trent's co-workers whose face I'm currently riding." "Which one? The good one - Libra's date." "Is he good...definitely a 'yes'. He's like an Arabian stallion. Damn, my thighs are still trembling from all the orgasms he's put me through, plus he's done Libra."

Emma was home alone on a Friday night, or so she thought. The 20-year-old college girl had the house to herself after her mom left for a weekend trip. She wore nothing but a tiny tank top and short shorts that barely covered her round ass. Her stepbrother Jake, 22, had come back early from hanging out with friends. He walked into the living room and froze when he saw Emma bent over the couch, picking up a remote. Her shorts rode up, showing the bottom of her smooth pussy lips.

She moaned into my mouth, and I slid my tongue inside, claiming her as my hand slipped under her bra, massaging her breasts. "Yes…" she gasped, breaking the kiss as I pinched her nipple, my cock driving deeper, making her body tremble with need. "Right there…Max," she cried out, her body quaking with pleasure as I hit that spot, the one that made her lose control. Her moans were guttural, raw, and I could feel her sucking me in harder with each thrust, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the air. "Max…" she whimpered, her hand weakly finding my neck, her chest arching forward, her body taking me in fully. "I'm close…"

It’s a video feed notification from the lobby security. I walk over, my hand trembling with suppressed rage, and tap the screen. The blood drains from my face. On the screen, Emma Brookes isn't just waiting in the lobby. She’s standing at the elevator bank, her face a mask of cold, calculating fury. And next to her is a man I recognize all too well… a lead reporter for the city’s biggest tabloid, holding a camera. “She knows,” Sabrina whispers, standing up and smoothing her dress, her face pale. “She’s coming up here with the press, isn't she?”

the king explained to her wife and embraced her. "What if she dies?" The Queen cried even harder. "We will never let her die. She's from our own flesh and blood and we will always protect her in whatever situation," Hermes promised. "I know that it's hard for you to let her go, especially that you treated her like your own daughter. I will give you two days to explain everything to her. After two days I will come back to personally take her to heaven realm for we really need her right now. A lot of immortals had been infected by dark spell and we need the ember of love to free them," Hermes stated before he disappeared.

"Hop in. Let's go." "Alright, boss," she chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat. Mateo opened the door for her and then walked around to the driver's side. As he drove off, a comfortable silence settled between them, which Mateo eventually broke. "So..." he began, glancing over at her. "How's your brother?" "He's fine," Ava answered promptly, a hint of tension in her voice. Mateo, concerned asked. "Why the sudden change? You've become so quiet these days. You were never this reserved before. You have always loved talking," he pauses, his brows furrowing. "That reminds me, why are you working at a restaurant?"

Steaming Temptation The water bubbled warmly around my body as I slipped into the neighbor’s hot tub at 1:15 AM, the steam rising into the cool night air. I knew I was trespassing, but after another fight with my boyfriend, I needed an escape. The backyard was dark except for the soft blue glow of the tub lights. I had seen Lucas using it many nights from my bedroom window, the tall, muscular single dad next door who always seemed to be working out or relaxing alone.

Then she felt him pull the neckline down, stretching the fabric to expose her perky mound so he could cup her flesh in his hand. He didn't even kiss her mother that deeply when she'd spied on them in the hot tub. Brook felt the best and most excited she ever had in her life, yet she knew it could only be better. Just the feel of her father's rigid cock through his pants was almost more than she could stand. And having his hand on her bare boob while they kissed was one thing she already knew wasn't going to be a once-only proposition. She might've been young, but Brook knew she was meant for this and meant for him, and she was ready to give him everything she had.

Mostly, she hated to be exposed to people, even though she had a gorgeous body; 5'5" with generous 34C perky breasts that didn't require a bra, svelte curves and a round firm ass; she didn't like having her body on view. Often she would have sex wearing most of her clothes, or some kind of sexy outfit, rather than even letting her partners have full access to her body. Although she didn't really consider herself bisexual, she'd had several very pleasant encounters with other women. Brooke on the other hand was willing to be submissive or dominant in bed, however she had moral drawbacks in that she considered anal and lesbian sex to be morally wrong (not to mention extremely dirty). However,

“It’s been…what, fourteen days? And every morning I wake up and realize I slept with my ex-boyfriend’s elder brother. Not just that, I had angry, vengeful, phenomenal sex with him!” “He must have made your toes curl if you describe it as that.” She turns on a vibrator shaped like a lipstick, making a comment about needing a new one. Then she turns to me. “You’ve never for once called sex with Colt phenomenal.” I nearly hurl the brain ball at her. “Stop joking around with my predicament. It’s wrong! It’s a violation of like, five different morality codes!” Emma, still completely unfazed, holds up two bottles of creamy liquid. “Which lube should I get? Strawberry or peppermint?”