Good Short Stories Novels & Stories

I sat in the third row, legs crossed, tapping my pen against my notebook. Professor Kane’s voice spread across the lecture hall like it always did. His voice sounded deep, steady, and cutting through my fucking nerves. No one whispered or checked their phones when he talked. For good reasons. You just listened. “...and that’s where the illusion of control breaks,” he said, pacing slowly in front of the whiteboard. “The characters think they’re above their desires, but desire always wins in the end. It’s what makes the story human.”

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her mouth let out shaky breaths. The feeling was so crazy and this made Gatty realize that it was not that she was uninteresting, but that her scumbag Ex- fiancee never knew how to pleasure her. Because, what she was feeling at the moment… “This is so good…”

By the time they reached the mall, Meera was throbbing with need. The luxury shopping center was bustling with people, but Alexander moved with the confidence of a man who owned half the city. He took her straight to a high-end designer store known for its elegant yet provocative dresses. A stylish saleswoman greeted them. Alexander spoke calmly, “She needs evening wear. Something short, tight, and revealing. We’ll try several.” Meera’s face burned as the woman led her to the fitting rooms with an armful of dresses. Alexander settled into a plush chair just outside, legs spread, looking every bit the powerful older man.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to be a good girl, I promise. I used to keep out of everyone’s business, avoid saying a word. Hell, I’d barely leave my house. But then I met Greg, and something about him made me want to be different. He always brought out the best in me. I couldn’t stay away. I needed to learn more about him … because, well, we were in love. Not like that cliché kind of love you see in the movies. The real kind. The stay-up-late and talk-to-each-other-for-hours kind. The sending-sexy-little-stares-across-the-office kind. The playing-hard-to-get kind.

Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

They both feel an undeniable attraction towards each other from the moment they've met and they quickly give in to their desires but what will happen when young girls start to get missing and found dead in the woods and HE becomes a suspect? Dear shy, sexy professor A Forbidden love story between Professor Alexander Morero, a 35 years old teacher who teaches Italian language & History at Bedrock university, LA, California and his new student, 20 year old, Jessica Hudson. *#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#* Bonus story: My boyfriend's uncle Introduction: He knew he was in trouble. She was the girlfriend of his nephew, and she was off-limits. But he couldn't help the way he felt when he was

, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Burning passion is a novella, so just sit back and enjoy a long blissful erotic stories THANK YOU AGAIN❤️!!

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

Cause love is patient, it's kind, it doesn't take offences, it's not selfish, it's doesn't hold a grudge, It always protects, always cares, always trusts, it doesn't hesitate, always hopes, always perseveres and most of all Love always wins. ——————————- A heart to heart from your Author This story is dedicated to all the dreamers out there Or the amateur writers who are too scared to publish your works into the world in fear. In the times of adversity always remember 'Grace carries us.' Take it from the girl who had been mocked for making a train of spelling mistakes in her English exam paper. You too can become a writer. Shoutout to all the people who tried to pull me down, Thank you for ma