Good Smut Books

Camilla is a decent girl by the books — The greatest bad thing she did was burn her own home. The other complication in her life is a secret that includes Dylan Emerton. What's absurd is that Camilla is compelled to move into Dylan's house, the alternative is being homeless. Being this close to him is futile. Camilla thinks back to her past. His touch. The pain that ensued. But Dylan doesn't. Not even in the slightest. How long will it take before their past traps them? And of what good is the undeniable attraction to each other.

During spring break, my family's housekeeper's son, Ethan Shaw, steals my black card and takes the entire class on a luxury trip to Norkin. He books out an entire fireworks show to impress my girlfriend, Claire Sanders. Then, he treats everyone to first-class tickets for the cruise while basking in the spotlight. But when I discover he's using my card and confront him, he teams up with my girlfriend to twist the story. They accuse me of being jealous of him. Cornered on the deck, I'm about to pull out my phone to prove it when Ethan suddenly shoves me over the railing. I'm left hanging by one desperate hand. His voice is ice-cold. "Lucas is just picking a fight because he's after my money. I can't sleep soundly with him around." On Ethan's signal, his lackey crushes my fingers one by one until my grip fails. I fall into the open sea, ending as food for the fish. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the day Ethan is booking the fireworks show. Watching him revel in the spotlight, I take out my phone and call the bank to cancel the card. This time, I want to see just how he plays the lavish big shot.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

When I visit my girlfriend's house during the Christmas holidays, her cousin, Antonio Esposito, humiliates me in front of everyone because of a scar on the back of my hand. "This scar looks like a remnant of the crossfire with the mafia! Bianca, why did you think that bringing an ex-convict home was a good idea?" The entire Romano family stares at me in a mixture of horror and shock. My girlfriend, Bianco Romano, even shakes my hand off while staring at me in disgust. Not only does Antonio flip the table, but he also calls over a few hooligans in an attempt to take me to the local police station. "We must teach scumbags like him a lesson!" he declares. After that, Antonio and the hooligans strip off my jacket and strap me to the tree in the courtyard. They then attempt to force me to admit that I'm working for the mafia. I can only gnash my teeth together stubbornly, refusing to yield no matter what. What they don't know is that the scar is a medal from my time in a peacekeeping war as a soldier!

⚠️ Warning: [ Smut! Smut! Smut! ahead. For audiences 18yrs and older. Readers discretion is strongly advised. Enter at your own detriment.] He leaned in again, his breath warm and intoxicating on my ear, and he gave me a deep, possessive kiss. "Now," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly promise that settled deep in my core. "Now let Daddy feed you his cock." He straightened up and, with a powerful, smooth motion, reached for the waistband of his faded grey sweatpants. He pulled them down, and as the thin fabric dropped to his ankles, I saw it. His cock. ********************** Welcome to EDEN....or in other words (Paradise): Where Pain is Pleasure👄. Desire is Control😈, and sin lingers like an afterthought. This is a collection of different erotic forbidden tales that are bound to make you drip under the covers. It's not just a book, but a need, a release.....an escape. Contains mature/raw explicit scenes, strong vulgar languages, taboo relationships layered with Bondage, Dominance, Submission, Degradation and Power play dynamics. If this is your kink, I dare you to venture into the forbidden🍏.....

According to company policy, anyone who achieves the feat of being the top salesperson for three years in a row will receive a thousand-square-foot apartment as a bonus. To achieve this goal, I work day and night, chasing every order I can find. But once I finally meet the criteria, I'm told that the policy has been abolished. Saul Hurst, my direct superior, brushes me off with a bonus of 500 dollars instead. Smirking at me, he says, "Being good at sales is all well and good, but you still need to improve your understanding of the company's rules and values. "Young people need to stay humble and know their place. Don't keep trying to show off. It isn't good to constantly hog the spotlight." I don't lose my temper. Instead, I manage to stay unusually calm as I took the "massive bonus" I got in exchange for three years of hard work. Two days later, our company headquarters conducts its annual sales evaluation. When one of our clients offers me a sales deal worth eight million dollars, I turn it down on the spot. After all, I believe that part of what it means to be professional is to do as my superior says. Since I'm supposed to stay humble and know my place, I've chosen to keep a low profile and not do anything that puts me under the spotlight. Besides, even if our branch fails to meet the total sales target, I'm not the one who's going to be held accountable for that.

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further investigation. More importantly, the value of goods has passed the threshold of 10,000 dollars, which means the fine you'll have to pay is probably going to be about 20 times that amount. "Since we worked together, we decided not to report you to the authorities. We'll just settle this matter privately. All you have to do is give us the fine you would've had to pay instead." This is how I realized that, combined with yesterday's meal, the total amount they've given me for groceries thus far is exactly 10,001 dollars.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

WARNING! SMUT! SMUT!! SMUT!! “Open your fucking legs wider, bitch, and stop pretending this isn't what you have always wanted.” I flinch at the boom of his voice and do as he says. He drives in three fingers into my pussy as he pounds my ass and all I can do is moan and take it. “Take it, you filthy fucking slut,” he says, pounding harder into me. “This is what you want right? To be a filthy fucking slut. If this is what you want, you can fucking take it.” And I can feel his cock hitting my guts. ***** I am Holly Winterbourne. I am a young girl with a secret forbidden crush on her best friend's father. I shouldn't want him. I shouldn't even think of his touch on my body and most importantly, I shouldn't be FUCKING him. But fate brings us together during the holidays and I realize I can't resist my best friend's father, no matter how hard I try.