Ghost Stories Tv Tropes Novels & Stories

“Spread your legs for me, printsessa. Show me how desperate that pretty pussy gets just thinking about my cock.” “My pleasure, sir…” * Trixie waited five years for Zahar to come home. One weekend is all it takes for everything to fall apart. One look from him. One touch. One quiet groan of her name, and she’s on her knees, begging for the man she was never supposed to want. He’s her father’s best friend. Her childhood crush. The man who stopped pretending he didn’t feel the same the second he saw her again. It’s wrong. It’s dirty. And neither of them is backing down.

When Elowen learned that she had been switched at birth, that her life as a princess was nothing more than a mistake, she quietly accepted her fate. She accepted being treated as an error. Accepted being hurt so deeply that even crying had to be done in secret. She believed she would fade away like this — silently, unnoticed, forgotten. Until one day — when despair pushed her to the edge — she felt a faint chill, as if someone were standing behind her, protecting her without a word. From that moment on, Elowen knew she was no longer alone. — Adrian survived a horrific car accident. His body lay motionless in a hospital bed, while his soul became bound to a wounded girl he had never known. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t shield her from harm. Yet when she was starved, warm food appeared in her drawer. When she was bullied, her tormentors met with inexplicable accidents. When she curled up crying in the dead of night, an invisible hand gently rested on her forehead—so tender it hurt. Adrian was there. Quieter than any living person. He witnessed every wound, remembered every tear, every trembling breath she tried to suppress. Affection grew in silence—slowly, carefully—as if one careless step closer would cause the girl to shatter. One was alive, yet denied a life. One was dead, yet still learning how to protect someone. Some forms of protection need no light. Some kinds of love cannot be touched. — Then one day, Elowen spoke seriously to her “Ms. Ghost”: Elowen: “Ms. Ghost, if you’re lonely…” “Maybe you could bond with a male ghost.” “I’d give you my blessing.” Adrian: … Then the “Ms. Ghost” coldly placed a hand on her forehead. Adrian: “Call me Mr. Ghost.”

Blair thought she was stepping into a new family. Instead, she walked straight into a world built on blood and secrets. Her step-brother had always kept his distance, treating her as if she was nothing but a child. But behind the coldness was something far more dangerous—because he was not just the aloof heir of her new family. He was a shadow in the underworld. A man who killed without hesitation. They called him "Ghost Rider," the heir of a powerful Mafia family rooted with Biker Gangs. “Having read your diary, I know what you dream about, angel. I know every craving you try to hide.” His words unsettled her. His touch terrified her. Yet the closer he drew, the more she realized escape was impossible. He was her obsession, her tormentor, her protector. Trapped under the same roof with him and her ruthless stepfather, Blair soon discovered the truth: there were no lines between family and enemies, love and ruin. In a world ruled by power and violence, desire turned into a dangerous game of control. And once he claimed her, breaking free would cost more than her heart—it could cost her life. A forbidden mafia romance where passion is a weapon, and love is just another way to destroy.

She broke into the wrong man’s office. Now she belongs to the Ghost of Wall Street. Clara Sterling came to steal back her father’s empire. Instead, Julian Cross, the ruthless billionaire known as the Ghost of Wall Street, caught her red-handed. His offer was simple and merciless: “Marry me for one year… or watch everything you love burn.” Trapped in a contract soaked in blackmail and obsession, Clara must play the perfect wife while a shadowy enemy, the deadly Goddard Family, circles them with poison, betrayal, and blood. In a world of luxury honeymoons, deadly boardrooms, and lethal secrets, hate ignites into something far more dangerous. Every chapter title is a line he once said to her. And the only man who can save her… might be the one who destroyed her. Married to the Ghost of Wall Street: Twisted Vows

Every chapter gives you something new, secret affairs, risky relationships, and characters who crave hard and love harder. Think Mafia, Landlord, Alpha, every dirty fantasies you can think of. Professor and student. Neighbor crush. Master and submissive. If you’re 18+ and ready for filthy, wild, messy passion then this ride is for you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 'Confess more while I absolve you.' His fingers plunged into her pussy, still slick from earlier, pumping roughly. Isabella gasped, gripping the kneeler. 'I... I rode his cock, bouncing until he spanked me. Oh God, your fingers... deeper.' Miguel added a third, stretching her, thumb on her clit. He leaned in, whispering, 'Did he make you cum as hard as I did?' She nodded, moaning. 'But not like this. Not in God's house.' He withdrew his fingers, slick with her arousal, and smeared them on his cock before pressing the head to her entrance. 'Kneel properly, face the screen.' She did, ass out toward him. He thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in one go. The booth shook slightly with the force. 'Continue your confession,' he ordered, pulling back and slamming in again. 'Javier... he fingered my ass while fucking me,' she panted, pushing back onto his cock. Miguel growled, jealous fire fueling his thrusts. He grabbed her hips, pounding harder, the wet sounds obscene in the sacred space. 'You're a slut for cock, aren't you? My slut.' His hand snaked around, rubbing her clit in fast circles. 'Yes, Father! Fuck your slut while I confess.' She reached back, spreading her cheeks, inviting him deeper. He spat on her asshole, working a finger in alongside his pistoning cock.

"This realm is your only chance of coming back to life in the mortal world, and if you attract those consequences, take note that you will die.” “Death?” I ask, mostly to myself. And to the voice, “What do you mean by 'I’m on my way to death'?” ~~~ Nova was having a bad day, and all she wanted was for the day to end already. But the universe seemed to have misunderstood her wish, because not only did her day not end, but she met with an accident that left her in a coma. As if that wasn't bad enough, she became trapped in a dimension between life and death, where she had to face a series of trials that would determine if she wakes... or fades from existence. Enter Zephyr, the spirit assigned to guide her to the light – her recovery. The spirit who never tried to disguise his want for her failure. The spirit she should've never fallen in love with. But in a world where survival is determined by the number of challenges a soul can conquer, the heart still found its way around love. With her complicated feelings in an already complicated world, Nova must decide what she's truly fighting for – her life, or the one being who's capable of ending it. *** In a short time, the remaining one hundred and twelve souls are pushed out. When we’re complete and standing, a voice – different from on the bus – greets us. “Welcome, Souls, to the survival games.”

Seven years after my death, an engagement invitation from my ex-girlfriend arrives at my house. Back then, I had broken up with her in my lowest, most desperate days and married someone else. Now, she has reinvented herself as a rising powerhouse worth hundreds of billions, driven by revenge and eager to see me regret everything and beg for mercy. Unfortunately for her, I am not the one who shows up. She looks around in open contempt, convinced my absence means guilt, shame, and fear. When I finally appear, all she sees is an urn.

“ You've been wanting this, haven't you?", he said as a matter of fact. I nodded. His tip pushed into my entrance, the mere sensation was making my head spin and then he stopped and pulled it back out. I whipped my head to look at him. "Why the fuck did you stop?!" I practically screeched. "Beg for it like a good girl" he smirked as he used his thick cock to smack my ass. "Please sir, fuck me with your delicious cock. Please fill me" I whined. I couldn't take this torture. I needed it ASAP. This is a collection of erotica stories written to make shiver with expectations, drip with sinful thoughts and make your seduce your thoughts beyond repair. Buckle up because it's time for sinful nights.

🔞+ STRICTLY FOR ADULTS ONLY. The hottest and most tantalizing collection of erotica stories ever put together! This compilation is bursting with instant love, lust and pure desire, featuring everything from forbidden desires to downright naughty escapades that are oh-so-satisfying. You can trust that this collection has it all—think sultry nuns, deceitful husbands, scandalous priests, and daring stepfathers, along with professors and stepbrothers, threesomes with strangers, and even wild family orgies. Just the thought of it sends a thrill down your spine! These stories are packed with all the explicit, lustful action you could ever dream of... Don't forget to drop your thoughts, reviews and share your favorites!

“Spread your legs wider. Let me see how wet you are for someone you’re supposed to hate.” One hundred nights. One hundred different men who know exactly how to ruin you. This isn’t romance. This isn’t love. This is the kind of filthy, depraved shit you think about when you’re alone with your hand between your legs and nobody’s watching. Stepbrothers who corner you in the shower. Priests who bend you over the altar. Mafia dons who take what they want and leave you begging for more. The coach who swore he’d never touch you - until he did. Every forbidden scenario you’ve ever fantasized about, raw and unapologetic. No soft touches. No gentle whispers. Just rough hands, dirty words, and the kind of orgasms that leave you shaking. Fair warning: This collection doesn’t hold back. Choking. Spanking. Public degradation. Forced orgasms. Breeding kinks. If you need your erotica sweet and romantic, this isn’t it. But if you want to be fucked six ways from Sunday by men who don’t ask permission - they take it… Pick a night. Any night. You won’t be the same when it’s over.