Erotic Mystery Books Novels & Stories

Her Chosen Mate (Book 3) *** 1. Can't Help Falling in Love (Book 1) 2. Purchased By The Mafia (Book 2) 3. Her Mysterious Lover (Book 3) 4. My Girlfriend is Mafia Queen (Book 4) 5. Loving A Mafia (Book 5)- Upcoming **** 1. Chosen By An Alpha (Stand-Alone) No One POV . A loud wailing could be heard from a child who was crying because of the hunger, but her father, on the other side, was busy in fucking someone else. Tears came out from a four-month-old infant due to suffocation and hunger.

She sighed, feeling more relaxed from the moment the scent surrounded her. “Vanillin,” he said. “Excuse me?” “The aroma of old books. It’s actually lignin—related to vanillin. It’s why used bookstores have that fragrance they do. I read about it”—he motioned to a book on a shelf to his left—“in a book.” He grinned. She looked him over—maybe a little older than she’d original thought, slightly scruffy, T-shirt with something about obscenities on the chest. “What sort of books do you like?” he asked.

Yes, the books she read were all romance books but not the kind he was thinking about. “This is not the kind of book you would find sunshine and strawberries in, Adriano. And this book is in fact educational.” She responded with a smirk on her face. The book was packed with a lot of heated erotic scenes. Reading a lot of dark romance was the only education she had ever had about sex. It was funny, really. “So, what’s in it?” He asked challengingly. She was at one of those scenes she mentioned earlier and without a single word but with a smirk on her face, she handed him the book. “The page on the right, read it.”

My thumbs moved before I could stop myself. Me: I don't know who you are but you have no idea what my life is like. Unknown: I know more than you think. I know how neglected you feel. How your body aches for touch. How you touch yourself at night when he leaves you alone. Heat flooded my face. I should have been terrified. Instead a dark thrill ran through me. My nipples tightened against the thin fabric of my tank top. Between my legs I felt myself growing wet. Me: This is wrong.

I should— But she didn’t want to. Not even a little. He unlocked the door and let her in first. The place smelled like old paper and wood and something that felt like *him*. She stepped inside slowly, running her fingers along the spines of books as she moved through the shelves. Mismatched heights. Handwritten notes pinned everywhere. It was messy and alive in a way her carefully designed spaces never were. She could feel him watching her from near the door. His eyes on her back. On her legs in that blue dress. It made her skin prickle. Made her nipples tighten again. Made the ache between her legs throb worse.

“Hey… about what you saw earlier.” She jumped, clutching the book to her chest. “I—I didn’t see anything. I swear. I won’t tell anyone.” I smiled softly and stepped even closer, backing her gently against the shelves. “Relax. Professor Harlan and I… we have an understanding. But I saw how you looked at us. You didn’t run away because you were scared. You ran because it turned you on, didn’t it?” Her cheeks burned brighter. She shook her head quickly. “No… that’s not… I’m not—”

She truly did enjoy the way he handled her but it wasn’t enough to give her an orgasm except if she added a vibrator. Reed watched proudly as Light pulled out and slammed inside into Lexi’s wet pussy. “Ah!” She moaned loudly, her hips swirling as if begging for more. This moment made him admit that Light was truly the freakiest among them all. Within a few minutes with sex demons, he was already balls deep inside one of them. Reed felt his cock growing harder the more he watched the erotic live p**n. He smoothly slid his hand into Red's leather pants and then slipped his fingers under her thong.

Like the room I was in earlier, there was also a hallway on the left side, but unlike that dark room, this one was lit, and I could feel the presence of the person who wanted to talk to me. "Hey, wait, girl!" I almost tore the woman's clothes trying to pull her back as she was leaving the room. I was about to leave too when I heard footsteps approaching. I froze when I smelled a scent I hadn't encountered before. It was hard to describe. It had a unique mix of citrusy, spicy, and woody notes. It just screamed hot and elegant. It wasn't harsh at all; in fact, it was utterly addictive. "Why are you always running away?" I swallowed hard when I heard the voice of the man behind me.

He’d noticed her during the final twenty minutes of class—third row, left side, navy skirt hiked slightly higher than necessary, knees parted just enough under the flip-down desk. Her name was Elise Moreau. Twenty, sophomore literature major, chestnut hair usually pinned back but today loose and slightly mussed. She’d been one of his better students—sharp essays, quiet confidence in seminar—but today her focus had fractured. He’d caught the subtle rocking of her hips, the way her right hand had disappeared beneath the desk edge, the faint flush creeping up her neck when their eyes met for half a second during his discussion of Lolita’s unreliable narration. She hadn’t stopped.

delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete