Haunting Adeline Spicy Pages Novels & Stories

Elena’s hazel eyes widened with raw hunger, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Fuck, look at that dick,” she moaned, reaching out to wrap both hands around my thick shaft. “So much thicker and longer than my ex-husband’s pathetic little thing. Come closer, baby. Let Mrs. Harper worship this cock properly.” She got on her knees at the edge of the bed, her heavy tits hanging and swaying as she stroked me slowly at first, admiring every inch, tracing the veins with her fingers. Then she leaned forward and licked the precum from the swollen head like it was her favorite treat, humming happily at the taste.

It’s like a stare competition across the dinner table, and somehow Mia never seems to notice. Everyone was back home, and the throbbing began. Chloe can’t shake her spicy morning with Damien from her mind. Every replay came with a sharp electric surge throughout her body, and every surge caused a drip from her throbbing folds into her panties. Damien has noticed a few unusual movements from Chloe, and it’s not like Chloe has been his best fuck, but something is exciting about the forbidden nature of their relationship.

My pussy throbbed with each word he spoke, aching in a way that made me want to squeeze my thighs harder. I hated how much his dominance turned me on. “Yes, Mr. Hale. I’ll do better. I promise.” He straightened up, but not before his eyes dropped to my chest again, lingering on my hardened nipples pressing against the fabric. “See that you do. We’ll have private sessions after hours starting tonight. My penthouse office, no distractions. Bring your A-game.” The words hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken. My mind flashed to filthy images—his hand sliding up my skirt, fingers finding how wet I already was for him. I squeezed my legs together again, fighting the urge to squirm.

Mirabel’s voice shook as she tried to continue reading, her fingers gripping the divorce papers so tightly the edges crumpled. “‘Section 8… regarding spousal support… the petitioner… demands...’” Riven growled against her ass, his tongue plunging deeper into her tight hole. He ate her with filthy, greedy strokes, long licks, wet circles, and possessive sucks that made her knees buckle. His strong hands kept her cheeks spread wide, completely exposing her as he devoured her most private place.

"I can make you forget the Council. Just one taste, Zane. Let me remind you of the history we almost had." She leaned in, her breasts pressing against my knees, her hands fumbling with my belt. She looked up at me, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, her eyes searching for a flicker of the old fire. "She doesn't even know how to please you," Adeline hissed, her voice sharp with venom. "She’s a cold, little bird. I’m a fire. Let me burn for you." She leaned forward, her mouth opening to take me through the fabric of my trousers, her hands reaching up to shove her breasts into my face, desperate for any contact, any sign that she still held power over me.

Her toes curled as the urge continued to try to escape, and Adaline struggled to hold it back. "Sir... let go..." she begged while sobbing. But Altezza ignored her. He seemed deaf and instead extended his tongue deeper. "Sir... please... let go..." Adaline begged again, trying to get up and free herself. "Sir... I want... ahhhh...." Adaline's body was thrown back onto the bed as she felt a thick liquid flowing out, and Altezza continued to lick it. Adaline cried. Feeling ashamed of herself and ashamed of what Altezza was doing. She cried, covering her face with both hands.

My feet cripples and I collapse on the van floor. A hand pick me up and throw me at the corner. They slammed the boy to my side. He wheezed. I gasp. His head hits my rib side, sending black spots to my eyes. I’m still coughing and gasping for air when a shoe heel pressed itself in my head. Forcing me to bend. “So it wasn’t that challenging to find you.” Adeline said, exerting force to her heel, bending me lower. I catch a crack of glimpse behind her shoe. Her blood red lips curl into a smile. A calculative evil smile. And I can’t suppress the shudder running through my spine. The groundkeeper has settled himself in the passenger seat at the front.

I thought it was over until the cravings came. At midnight, she shook me awake. “I want chin-chin,” she said. I squinted. “What?” “Chin-chin. Spicy. Crunchy. From that lady who sells by the roundabout.” “It’s midnight bae.” She blinked. “And so?” She asked in confusion. I groaned, grabbed my car keys, and muttered, “I survived hitmen for this?” "Did you say something?" She asked. "No, nothing at all," I said and stood up.

Was it equal to Nevi’s? Geoffrey. I couldn’t get him off my mind. Why did his insane story trouble me? I dealt with odd people on a daily basis at the diner. There were even a few who were regulars. Al Beano was positive than an alien lived in the shed in his backyard and Old Gus insisted he was the reincarnation of Abe Lincoln. I believed in aliens. I believed in reincarnation. Yet, I paid them no mind. I did not believe in vampires. I just didn’t know why I couldn’t shake off Geoffrey’s crazy story.

He picked up his thermos and took a slow sip, but the look in his eyes was worse than any insult he could have thrown at me. That afternoon, I grabbed an empty sterile vial from the company medicine cabinet. When I got home that evening, Alice was cooking in the kitchen. The roar of the range hood drowned out everything else. I took the chance to slip into the bedroom and buried my face in the pillow, inhaling deeply. I couldn't smell anything. She claimed the scent was fading, but I couldn't catch even a hint of diesel. "Dinner's ready." Alice appeared in the doorway, her apron speckled with oil and her spatula still dripping with broth.