Guilty Pleasure Books Novels & Stories

Must be why it feels like he’s tearing me in half. He starts out slow and forceful. Harsh thrusts, then dragging himself out at a torturous pace, before slamming inside me again. I feel my body beginning to relax, sucking him in greedily as he damns my soul with every stroke. My stomach tightens, sensing the oncoming damage he’s about to inflict on my organs. Shockwaves scatter throughout my nerve endings as he quickens his pace, roughly fucking me while loud noises I’ve never made in my life fall from my lips. The pleasure is blinding, and the feel of him sliding in and out of me only heightens the potent lust stirring in the pit of my stomach.

FORBIDDEN FLAMES 2 ARIA’S POV The text from Serena arrives just as I flip the café sign to CLOSED, the soft click of the lock echoing in the empty space. My hands still tremble from the day, every customer interaction felt like a distraction from the memory of her mouth on mine yesterday, her fingers teasing me to the edge in the storage closet before pulling back with that wicked smile. "Not yet," she whispered. "We savor the sin." The words have haunted me all shift, making my panties soaked, my nipples hard against my bra, every brush of fabric a reminder.

I gasped, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as pleasure ripped through me again, harder, messier than before. He bit my shoulder, groaned against my skin, and came inside me with a shudder, grinding deep until I was shaking against him. We collapsed, breathless, sweat-slick, my blouse half-open and his tie hanging loose. Silence stretched, thick, dangerous. Finally, I shoved at his chest, sliding off the desk on unsteady legs. “This—this was a slip. That’s it.” His smirk was sharp, knowing. “Keep lying, Sinclair. It makes it even sweeter.”

It was scorching like a flame and if auras could be tasted, hers would definitely be bitter. I shuddered, walking over to the first aisle to check it out. The first book that caught my attention was Blood, Pawns and Obsession. It was a dark romance by Rylie Martin. I had one of my projects on hold because I wanted to read this book and get into the head of the psychotic male lead, so I would understand him better and be able to execute my plotline to my taste. The grin on my face unconsciously widened, and I brought the book to my nose, sniffing it in.

I sobbed into the pillow, fingers clawing at the sheets. The vibrator stayed glued to my clit, sending brutal waves of pleasure through my core, while she fucked my ass with the dildo in deeply, pushing it further with every thrust until I was completely stuffed. “You’re taking both so well, baby,” she groaned. “Look at you… pussy dripping all over the vibrator while your tight little ass swallows this cock like a good slut? So fucking greedy for me.” I was shaking violently now, legs trembling uncontrollably beneath her. The combination was too much and the buzzing against my oversensitive clit and the fullness stretching my ass had my mind going blank. Pleasure bordered on pain, so intense

I moaned as he lifted me onto his desk effortlessly, knocking books aside. “Spread your legs,” he growled, ripping my panties down with one swift movement. “Fuck, look at this pretty little pussy. Already dripping for me.” He slid two thick fingers into me without warning, pumping them fast and deep. I cried out, clutching his wrist as pleasure shot up my spine. “Quiet,” he ordered, pressing his other hand over my mouth. “Anyone could walk by.” The thrill of getting caught only made it worse. My hips bucked against his fingers as he curled them just right, making stars explode behind my eyelids.

I took a taxi I couldn't afford, arriving at the office before even the janitorial staff had finished the lobby. I had already made arrangements. Mr. Graham's coffee and bagels were scheduled for a hot, precision-timed delivery. I was going to pitch my case for the Dublin trip today, and I needed him in the best mood possible. I needed him docile. Or, at the very least, not actively trying to incinerate me with his gaze. I was at my desk, straightening my pens with neurotic precision, when I saw a box tucked under the corner of my workstation. It bore a sleek black seal that read: Pleasure Society.

Still played traitor every time I thought of that damn fireplace. That night, I found a package on my doorstep. No name. No label. Inside? A signed copy of his latest book. The dedication page read: “To the woman who gave me writer’s block until I fucked her against it. You’re in every filthy line, sweetheart. And you’re not getting out of my head.” – J.H.” My knees buckled. And my hand went between my thighs. Because no matter how much I hated him, no matter how furious I was—

Every encounter left me sore and satisfied but craving more. The guilt sat heavy in my chest sometimes, especially when Ben kissed my cheek goodnight, but the resentment burned hotter. Julian made me feel alive, wanted and filthy in the best way. One afternoon I sucked his cock in the hallway while Ben was in the shower, my lips stretched wide around his thick shaft as he gripped my hair and whispered how good my mouth felt. Another night he fingered me under the dinner table while Ben sat right across from us, completely clueless. My face stayed flushed the whole meal, pussy dripping onto Julian’s fingers.

She grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and placed a leg on the office sofa to give her a better view of her wet pussy. “Right there bestie… Don't you fucking stop” Camila moaned as her best friend greedily sucked and lick her pussy like she has been starving for it. The sight of them looking into each other's eyes as Vivian eats her pussy, the way Camila hands held a handful of Vivian’s blonde hair while moaning I pleasure, the way her pussy juice flowed out of the corner of Vivian’s mouth, coupled with the wet slurping sounds, made my cock threaten to explode in my pants.