Fidgeting Fingers

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️‼️‼️ This is an EROTICA Collection, 18+ only. Do not read if you're below that age. --- "You’re so warm,” he muttered, his hands gripping my waist as I began to move. A shudder ran through me as the rhythm built, my fingers clutching his shoulders for support while I rocked forward and back. “Fucking hell… you’re so good,” he groaned, pulling me closer. I leaned forward slightly, my hands resting beside his neck as I held onto him. “You like that?” I asked softly, my voice shaky. “You know I do,” he replied with a smirk. I moved again, slowly finding a rhythm, my breathing growing heavier with each movement. His hands tightened around my waist as the tension between us grew stronger. “We’re just getting started,” he whispered in my ear.

Bellatrix Amon, a stubborn girl and an only daughter of Annabelle Amon. Their life isn’t full of sunshine and rainbows. They were the center of gossip, because her mother always brought different guys to their house. After fighting, Bellatrix couldn’t believe that her mother died brutally the next day after leaving with the mysterious guys. Bellatrix found out that Don Geronimo Marquis was with her mother before she died. With that, Bellatrix wanted to take revenge on him. But since life is full of twists, Bellatrix met Colter Andrew Marquis—the son of Don Geronimo. Her plan changed, and it was now to seduce the billionaire’s son, and wrap him around her fingers as she took revenge to ruin his father. However, Bellatrix didn’t know that Colter also had a plan for her. But what if a spark would touch their hearts—making them yearn for each other’s touch and love? Would it affect their initial plans? Or would they continue their lies and schemes?

...In the name of crush, love and lies...They say broken people can't fall in love, right? But what if love really lies? Fighting depression and bipolarity along with eating disorder and coupled with fighting the urge not to take her own life, can things get anymore confusing for Fay when a silly crush transpire into something else? They say obsession is sweet, but when it leads to infatuation, it tends to get more dangerous and powerful. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered, his lips hovering above hers slightly, their lips almost touching. She shook her head negatively, her lips unconsciously dying for his taste. "Alright." His breath out, untangling his fingers from her hair as he made to move his lips away from hers but she pulled his head back quickly before muttering against his small pink lips. "Kiss me." © Josephine. C. Ivy

"Come for me," he commanded between licks, his voice muffled against her flesh. "I want to taste you when you fall apart. I want to feel this tight little p*ssy squeeze my fingers when you scream my name." ---- As Marceline's marriage began to crumble under Rafael Gray’s infidelity, betrayal quickly turned to violence when she tried to leave. Every escape attempt only brought more fear, more bruises, and hopelessness. Hope seemed lost… until she met Alexzandrei Constantine. A dangerous man, a shadow she never saw coming. Just a mere whiff of her scent and his mind ignited. Obsession took hold, and he knew there was only one thing he must do and that was to claim her, no matter the cost. Will she end up choosing her groveling husband? Or yield to the forbidden allure of a madman whose devotion is as consuming as it is dangerous?

His hand slipped beneath my dress, fingers teasing, testing. My breath stuttered as he dragged his lips over my throat, his voice a rough whisper against my skin. “You’re soaked for me,” Hades murmured, his other hand tightening around my waist. “I could take you right here, make you forget everything but my name.” I clenched my thighs around him, desperate for relief. “You already do.” His low chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Then let me remind you.” — The Lycan King is cruel, dangerous, and utterly captivating. But to Davina, he is also temptation incarnate—the one man who can unravel her with a touch. As war looms and enemies close in, their passion becomes both their greatest strength and their deepest weakness. Because in a world where power is everything, loving him might just be her downfall.

Overpowered by the strong hands who grabbed her by the hair and pulled her along, dragging her into a dark room that recks of urine and cigarettes. Hurled her inside. His hands still gripping her hair and not doubt if he let go, some strands of hair would fall of. Undeniably, the pains were suffocating. When she stares at his dark eyes, the only thing she saw was darkness. “Let go, let go of me you bastard!” She spit out. That only made his mighty five fingers appear on her face. Which sent her head spinning on her neck. He made her kiss the earth. And slowly breathed in her face. “Your life ends here....” his voice was deep baritone and cruel and that was when she felt the shivers down her spine. How did the nerdy Elina find her way into the merciless billionaire’s court?

Even being the late King's son can't guarantee you the throne of Serenacia, as the system is different from any other kingdom you've heard. A kingdom filled with power, control, freedom and most importantly, Gods. Gods who can strike you down just with the mere snap of their fingers and also God's who would strike you down and leave you speechless, based on their physique and attractiveness. But it isn't all about that, as the throne of Serenacia is open for a new king of Gods to rule them, yet it isn't so simple as in Serenacia, if a king dies before passing the throne to his heir, then all the generations of the bloodline of God's would have to compete for the throne once again, and that hasn't been done since the last thousand years. Nevertheless, it's isn't just about the throne, as love interest and triangles are formed, after all its no fun if no one catches feelings.

While I've been unconscious for 12 days after getting into a car crash, I end up spending 12 years wandering in my dreams. In my dreams, I play the role as the fake mafia principessa. I've committed all atrocious crimes for the sake of my lover, Marcello Gallo, only for him to expose me in front of everyone on our wedding day. In the end, I freeze to death on the streets. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Marcello brings the real principessa, Viviana Sabato, home. He's still gazing at me as sincerely as he did in the past. But I know that in the future, he will cross his fingers while making our vows before the priest. Even if I have to go through everything one more time, I know that I must give up on Marcello no matter how genuine his feelings are for me right now.

"You have this beauty that captivates men, don’t you? There were plenty of naked women in this room, but the second you walked in, the men lost control. They wanted a piece of you. They wanted to own you." His fingers trail down my jaw, tilting my chin up. "Not knowing you already belong to me." I swallow hard, my breath caught in my throat. He moves away, settling into a chair with ease. He unbuttons his coat, leans back, spreads his legs apart like a king, which I guess he is... And then, his voice turns lethal. "From now on, Ariella Costa, you are mine to use. Mine to play with. Mine to do with as I please." The words hit me like a heart attack. "Your body belongs to me. Your mind belongs to me. Your soul belongs to me." He smirks, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "I own you."

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.