Erotic Historical Fiction Novels & Stories

"This place... it might be a bit much. If it freaks you out, we can turn right around and leave. No pressure." Jay reached up, his fingers lightly brushing over the edge of my mask. "Open the door, Jake," he murmured softly, his eyes heavy with arousal. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned the handle and pushed the heavy door open. The red room was dimly lit, drenched in deep crimson light and thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and heavy perfume. Everywhere you looked, bodies were entangled. Men and women were having sex openly on leather benches, padded tables, and plush rugs, using whips, restraints, and various toys.

If I could meet him again, I will gladly let him rocked his hips against mine. It wasn't my first wild night, frankly, it was one of the many nights I spent going to the club. But it was the first time ever I had sex with a stranger in a club's restroom. I definitely would feel ashamed if I ever get to meet him again, but I wouldn't be ashamed if I get to meet him at the club again. But anywhere else would be a complete disaster, he wouldn't know I was totally heartbroken that night. I don't regret the sex, if I have another chance I would do it over a million more times.

That kiss still lived on my lips. I breathed slowly, letting it stir. It always came like this, creeping in on the edges of silence, the hunger that bloomed in the pit of my belly like a sin I never repented for. I ran the sponge across my collarbone, down between my breasts. My skin was flushed, slick with water. My body betrayed me. And somewhere, hidden in the shadows beyond the cracked door, Lucien Rael Damaris stood. He shouldn’t have. I know he knew that.

No deep pressure that made my mouth fall open. He started moving, steady and careful. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he groaned. I wrapped my legs around him and moved with him, but every thrust just made me think of the desk. The way Mr. Grant had held my hips and forced every thick inch inside me. The way he had called me a slut while he used me. Derick kissed my neck. “You feel so good.” I closed my eyes and pretended the voice in my ear was deeper. Older. Meaner.

Jade cried out into the couch as he started railing her in earnest, one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her ass hard enough to bruise. “Arch it,” he demanded. “Show me how pretty this cunt looks stuffed full of neighbor cock.” She pushed her ass back to meet him, moaning shamelessly now. The embarrassment from yesterday was gone. All that was left was need. Nicolas spanked her once, hard, then again, watching the skin pink up under his hand while he fucked her deep and fast. “You sound so fucking good like this,” he growled. “Moaning for me. Taking every inch. This is better than your fingers, isn’t it?”

What I found was a world of explicit, detailed stories about aunts and nephews. Stories of seduction, of secret affairs, of dominant young men and submissive older women. I read one, then another. My face grew hot, my breathing shallow. Without even consciously deciding to, my hand slipped under the waistband of my linen trousers, my fingertips finding my clit, already sensitive from last night. The stories were graphic, filthy, and utterly compelling. They painted pictures of aunts who were initially reluctant but secretly hungry, who were awakened by their nephew's bold desire. They talked about submission, about being called names, about the thrill of the forbidden.

Leon I have him beneath me like something fragile and impossible. Edric’s mouth is still on mine when the thought hits, too soft, too human, too unaware of what he’s pressed against. The bed is tangled beneath us, sheets twisted like they’ve already given up pretending this is controlled. My hand is at his waist, firm enough to keep him here, careful enough not to break him. Azrael is not careful. He prowls under my skin like a living fire, restless and starving. Every time Edric exhales, the wolf surges closer to the surface like it wants to answer him directly. I swallow hard and deepen the kiss anyway, like I can press the beast back down through force alone.

Honestly, the only room in the house that was finished was the one he was using—the master bedroom. Behind the door, the girl continued to cry, and the sobs seemed to be amplified as they reached his ears. When he closed his eyes, his brain immediately found the memory of her flushed body tied to the bedpost - wide open, completely at his mercy. Eric sighed and straightened himself. Maybe he'll stop by the pub down the street and find an easygoing girl willing to help distract him from the girl behind the locked door. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed again as he strode across the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, he felt the cool moisture spread on his skin, so wonderful. Ever

I growled softly, squeezing the side of her breast more openly this time, my palm brushing over the stiff peak. Elena’s breath hitched audibly. Her fingers tightened on my shoulder, but she didn’t stop me instead her hips rolled into mine in approval. Forbidden thrill raced through my veins and I grew bolder. On the following promenade, my hand slipped fully inside the high slit of her dress, palm gliding up her smooth, bare inner thigh. Her skin was fever-hot and silky. I stopped just inches from her panties with my fingertips tracing teasing circles so close I could feel the radiating heat from her core. She was wet—I could already smell it, that sweet, musky scent mixing with her perfume.

Not accidental. Dara’s breath hitched louder. “Yeah… like that?” His voice was lower. Rougher. Eli’s stomach flipped. “Exactly like that,” Eli muttered, breath hot against the back of Dara’s neck. He didn’t move away. Couldn’t. The contact burned. His cock throbbed against Dara’s ass and he knew Dara could feel it. Knew it and didn’t pull away. One more second and I’m going to lose it right here.