Ennoshita No Chikaramocha Raw

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low. "I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this. "I moaned, looking away, couldn’t help it, "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly. "Fuck," he groaned. "So tight." He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster. "Damien," I cried out his name as I came. "That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder... Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me, Damien Blackwood the Principal Benefactor and Owner of Columbia University. Same man who’d just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Some rules are meant to keep us pure. These stories spread your legs and make you beg to break them. Stepbrothers who shouldn’t touch you, but shove you against the wall and make you scream their name. Protectors who swear to guard your body, only to break every oath as they fuck you into the mattress. Strangers who taste like sin and don’t stop until you’re ruined. Masked lovers who hide their faces while they spread you open and make you beg. Even supernatural beasts who mark you, breed you, and take you raw until you’re theirs completely. This isn’t sweet romance. It is raw heat that claws, bites, and devours. Dangerous, possessive men you should run from, but instead, you’ll spread wider, sink deeper, and take every filthy drop they give you. Every page is a dare: moan louder, take more, surrender deeper. Because once you give in to the forbidden, you won’t just fall, you’ll beg to be destroyed. Welcome to your new addiction.

Victor stood behind me, cock still half-hard and glistening with our combined mess. He reached down, scooped a finger through the cum dripping from my hole, then brought it to my lips. "Taste how full I left you, baby girl." I sucked his finger clean without hesitation, moaning softly at the salty, musky mix. "More," I whispered. "I want both of you again. Harder this time." Jamal chuckled low, stroking his length back to full hardness. It looked even longer now, curved and slick from my spit. "Greedy little thing. Flip over. I want to see your face while I fuck you." Cum Inside Me, Daddy is a collection of straight-up filthy stories about raw, no-limits sex. Bodies crashing together in hard fucks. Holes stretched wide, throats used rough, sheets drenched in cum and sweat.Each one dives deep into pure hunger, cocks slamming in deep, pussies taking it hard, asses getting claimed with no mercy. All the taboo stuff you crave, laid out in brutal detail.No romance. No sweet talk. Just hard, wet, pounding sex that leaves you spent. This book isn't about love. It's about need and giving in until you're soaked.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his cock—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he fucks my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but fuck, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and cum, red rooms equipped for flogging, bondage, edging, and total power exchange. Expect graphic, immersive scenes of throat-fucking, ass-pounding, breeding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

[A Multi-Genre Erotic Compilation: Straight, Gay, and Lesbian Stories.] FOR 18+ ONLY: What happens when you stop pretending to be a saint? In this raw compilation, every story starts with a secret and ends with a scream. From the quiet office where a submissive girl is finally cornered by her "Daddy," to the dark club where two women find themselves locked in a slick, breathless battle for control, and the gym locker room where two men push each other until only one is left standing. These aren't just stories; they are records of pure, filthy surrender. Every chapter is a new world where the only rule is that there are no rules. You think you can handle the heat? You think you know your limits? Step inside, choose your craving, and see just how far you’ll go when the clothes come off and the shame disappears.

Warning: This book contains steamy, raw, and mature content. “Please, let me taste you,” Ava begged, broken and desperate—after he tortured her by forcing her to watch as he fucked that blonde. “Now, spread those thighs, sweetheart. Show me how wet that pussy already is.” Ava Sinclair Vance was once a stripper. Now she’s the wife of billionaire Leon Vance, bound by vows of forever—until his endless “business trips” left her aching and burning with unmet desire. One reckless night, she returned to Club Orion for a single pole dance. Just to feel alive again. A stranger in the shadows had other plans. What began as one lap dance exploded into a night of ruthless, filthy sex that left her utterly ruined for anyone else. She woke up wrecked, convinced it was a nameless one-night mistake she could bury and forget. Until the next morning’s business lunch with Leon’s best friend. She discovered she couldn’t escape him—not when the stranger and Leon’s best friend were the same man. And certainly not when he was the one demanding more nights… to cover up her “one little mistake.” How long can Ava stay trapped between two ruthless billionaires before one claims her completely? And what if those nights were never about silence… but about breaking her so thoroughly she begs to stay?