Hantu Nancy

***Warning: Mature Audience Only*** "Mmm, so responsive," he purred, moving his hand to the front of my panties. He swiped a finger over the damp fabric, finding just how wet I was. "Fuck, you're dripping. I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised darkly, voice heavy with desire. His fingers dipped beneath the hem of my thong, stroking through my slick folds. "So fucking good." I moaned wantonly, back arching as he touched me so intimately. It felt incredible, his strong fingers teasing my most sensitive places. He circled my clit and I nearly cried out, the pleasure almost too intense. "Oh god, please," I begged shamelessly, too far gone to care how desperate I sounded. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Patience, bunny. We're just getting started." Some desires can’t be tamed. Some fantasies demand to be felt. Dive into Midnight Desires: A Collection of Erotic Tales, where passion burns hot, and pleasure knows no rules. From stolen glances that turn into forbidden office affairs, to strangers whose touches feel dangerously familiar, each story is a journey into raw, unfiltered want. Whether it’s a dominant billionaire, a mysterious stranger, or a slow burn between enemies turned lovers, these short stories are made to be devoured—and leave you breathless. Indulge your cravings. You deserve it.

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

After four years of marriage, I decide to get a divorce. Why? Because my wife doesn't love me. She loves her childhood sweetheart. I disappear after leaving behind a divorce agreement—I give her my blessings in her search for true love. But after I'm gone, she searches the world for me like she's lost her mind.

Twenty-two year old Lorena, who had been living in secret at her parents' house with no contact with the outside world, suddenly finds herself in the arms of Andrew Sanchez, the ruthless son of Jacob Sanchez, a loan shark and king of the underworld, as collateral for her father's loan. As she breaks out of her life long bondage, she begins to discover secrets about who she really was, who her parents actually were, and a twin sister she never knew existed. And more than that, she realizes that fate had brought her to the man she saved years ago when she snuck out to explore the world. But, the world isn't as rosy as she pictured and soon, she realizes that her life was in danger amongst her new family. She teams up with her cop twin to uncover secrets surrounding her stepmother and stepbrother who would do anything to inherit the family wealth.

On my birthday, Heather Pond’s lover posted a sonogram on his social media account and captioned it, [We’re going to be parents!] I commented, [Congratulations. You can have the baby cot from my place.] The next second, Heather called me to give me a warning. “Brandon Smith is dying. I’ll come back to you once I give birth to his child. Please don’t trigger him any further!” I remained calm and collected when I served her the divorce papers. Then, I packed my bags and went on a vacation in Europe.

My husband, Steven Garrett, was always "busy" overseas. So I thought I'd surprise him with a visit. Instead, I found him shacked up with my best friend, Peggy Shane. That day, my heart snapped—I filed for divorce and let my family set me up with someone new. Two years later, I bumped into Steven outside the hospital. He ripped the prenatal report from my hands. "How dare you cheat on me! You think you can play me?"

All it takes for me to be locked inside a sauna for eight hours is an accidental splash of hot water on Wayne Miller's secretary's hand. Right before I lose consciousness, he finally orders someone to let me out. He hisses, "Consider this a warning. If I ever see you lay a hand on Naomi again, I won't let you off so easily." I lie on a stretcher and answer with quiet composure, "Understood."

On our wedding day, Ethan got a call and bolted from the ceremony. Grandma was so furious she started coughing up blood, and everyone just watched. Not one person stepped in to help. I raced her to the hospital, but it was too late. She was gone before they even got her inside. Then, as I sat alone in the morgue, my phone lit up. It was Ethan. "Grace, get to the hospital. Bella's hurt and needs your blood!" "Ethan Carter, it's over between us." I ended the call, leaving the last pieces of my heart—and him—behind. Months later, he was on his knees in the pouring rain, begging for forgiveness, saying he'd do anything, give anything, if I'd only look back.

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.

When my husband, Drake Connor, posted a photo of me on social media, this random woman mistook me for his mistress. She confronted me in the street, a baby in her arms and a crowd of relatives and friends in tow, ready to teach me a lesson. "You shameless tramp! How dare you seduce my husband! "I’ll beat you to death, you disgusting woman!" The crowd beat me, smashed my car, and ripped my clothes. I left that encounter bruised and battered, suffering a concussion and a fractured arm. In the end, I called the police and demanded justice. I had a divorce agreement drawn up and threw it in Drake's face. "If it weren’t for me, you’d be begging in the streets! And now you dare to hide a woman and child from me? "Get out! Don’t expect a penny from me!"