Novel & Cerita Erotic Novels For Women

“Every single time. I’d picture you riding me right here on this couch, those heavy tits bouncing in my face while you whispered how much you needed a real man to fuck you properly. How your ex could never make you cum like I would.” She shivered visibly, her nipples now rock hard and clearly outlined. The scent of her arousal was starting to fill the air, it was sweet, warm, and intoxicating. Her hand slid a little higher on my thigh, fingertips brushing the edge of my bulge but pulling back at the last second, drawing it out.

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.

I fúck women with fire in my veins, and I crave the ones who are deliciously out of reach or secretly off-limits. I am a lésbian, loudly, unapologetically, and with a reputation I earned the hard way. I have fúcked women who were mistakes, women who were married, women who taught me things I still think about in quiet moments, and women who ruined me just enough to make me crave the next one harder. You may consider me a slút, but I’m not. I’m just a woman who fúcking loves other women, especially the pretty ones.

"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.

As she watched him being driven away, she knew that this was just the beginning of a complex and dangerous dance, one that would test the limits of her professionalism, her desire, and her very soul. This was the fourth criminal she was fucking and she knew she wasn't stopping anytime soon. These criminals are so hot and she wasn't ready to let go. Note: if you want more of Camila, you can request for it and I might create a book for that purpose.

The chat went wild, replaying that line: ‘Are you completely insane? Okay, I was out of tricks. I’m just a flimsy, pitiful, helpless erotica heroine. No sudden superhuman survival skills kicking in at the eleventh hour. I threw up my hands. No point fighting it anymore. “You don’t believe me? Fine. Ask him yourself later. Let’s see…” I pretended to think. “Why don’t you start with… ‘Did she kiss you yesterday?’ How about that?” Right then, the system chimed in again.

Oh no. It was The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty. That book was on another level. Full-on adult scenes, way worse than Fifty Shades. It made Fifty Shades feel like a bedtime story for kids. I had only read two erotic novels in my life, and that was enough to decide they were not for me. I only finished Fifty Shades because it was the less intense one. I definitely was not planning to read something like this again. I quickly folded the bag closed and gasped, “Jaxon!”

“Hmm… I think you need to satisfy your curiosity.” Aria frowned. That didn’t sound like a real solution. “Don’t worry,” Elda leaned in as if she were about to share a secret. “You can do it on your own. I have books,” she said. Aria looked confused. “Books?” “Erotic books.” “What?” Aria’s eyes widened. “They’re written by women and sold secretly to other women. My friends and I got our hands on a few. You need to read them, my lady. You’ll enjoy them.”

A dark, erotic, romance novel. The goal was to stop thinking about Alexander, but only ten minutes into the book and I'm already imagining his hands all over me. I'm already imagining him bending me over the fucking window of my room and filling me up ruthlessly until all I can remember is the sound of his name on my lips.

I don’t think Carrie realized she heard, and with my head between them, she may not have seen the grin. Just knowing that it would make her squirm, I moved my hand up and cupped Carrie’s bust while looking over her shoulder to see what they were reading. It turned out to be some pen and ink drawings of women in erotic poses. Some were nature scenes, others were of two or three people in various states of undress and in the midst of various sex acts. The one on the right page was a woman licking up the base of an erect cock of some unseen man. The woman in the picture was looking up at her man with a gaze of pure lust.