Hook Line And Sinker Spicy Chapters Novels & Stories

He hooked his fingers and sucked and the pressure at the base of my spine broke. I came hard enough that my vision went white. The second wave followed on the first, a violent spill I could not stop. I squirted against his mouth and chin, shocking myself, soaking his jaw, dripping onto the stone between his knees. My legs shook. He did not pull away. He drank it, filthy and focused, until I tugged at his hair because I could not stand. He rose. His face shone. I caught his jaw in both hands and licked my own taste off him, slow, along his bottom lip, the crease beside his nose, the wet on his chin. He shuddered like I had put a blade under his ribs.

Inside, triumph sang through my veins. Hook, line, and sinker. “Maybe I should,” I said softly.

I wanted him out, pushing his head away but he held on like a leech, sucking me to my death. It was sweet and sour, going in waves. The first hit with my body arching, my hands falling away. I gasped, seeing butterflies and the heavens open. His arms came around my ass and pulled me even closer to him, fucking and sucking so relentlessly he was set to break me apart and I was willing. !!THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT!! He could shatter me and I would gladly fall away. The second wave came soon after with the third one and from there I could not hold it down.

I sink to my knees on the tiled floor like a supplicant and take his jutting erection in my hands. "Suck.” The moment my lips slide over the engorged head of his cock, he moans and tilts his head back, closing his eyes. He sinks his fingers into my hair and raggedly whispers my name. "Ashanti…” His gruff praise is candy to my ears. It's heroin injected into my veins. It's hot euphoria running along every nerve ending, setting me on fire. I suck so eagerly on his dick, he has to warn me to slow down. "Go slow. You'll get my cum, but not yet." He opens his eyes and gazes down at me, running his thumb over my top lip as I bob my head, taking him deep in my mouth then going shallower again.

Clumsy, selfish lovers were no use to her, no matter how handsome and macho they might be. Cooling his own passions, Spike worked his fingers round the stalk of her love-bud, wetting it, stroking it, parting the lips and sliding across one side then the other before returning to the centre point. His other hand plucked at her nipples, toying, rubbing, matching his movements to those rousing her clit. Up he went to the miniature hood, easing it back, making her jewel stand out, bending to admire it, lick it, coax it to climax.

he moaned, “just like a vice around my cock." He used his palms to spread my ass cheeks like a loaf of bread. My eyes watered when his tip touched that spot. “Yes Daddy please,” I begged, gripping the edge of the chair hard as he increased his pace. “Harder,” I moaned, heat surging through my veins. The smell of nicotine filtered through my nose and with heavily lidded eyes I saw Mr. Sinclair watching us lazily from his seat on the couch, his protruded cock still bobbing as he puffed on his cigar.

Today we all celebrated that i was awake and thankfully alive. Author’s Note Hey Guys, We have about 2 more chapters to go before the ending of ‘hooked up’ Thank you for reading

His fingers lingered a little longer than necessary. I remained still, my breathing calm. Then his hand reached the hook of my undergarment, an attempt to get to the point. But before he could even touch the hook, a sharp pin pierced through his neck, straight into his throat. The movement was swift and silent. I turned, the moonlight illuminating my face as the cold wind lifted a few loose strands of my hair. My golden eyes darkened as I finally met his eyes. He froze there, stunned, his mouth wide open. Blood gushed out of his neck with a gurgling sound in his throat, spilling over his fingers as he tried to grab the wound. His eyes trembled in disbelief.

Chapter 9: Black Backbreaker The hallway throbs, a pulsing chamber of raw sensation. Her moans, broken and blissful beneath his kiss, are a symphony of surrender that fuels his relentless drive. He feels her body arching against him, her hips grinding, a desperate, unbidden response to his every thrust. Her legs, wrapped tight around his waist, pull him deeper, locking him in, an anchor to her unravelling. Her mouth, hot and pliant beneath his, accepts his demanding kiss, swallowing his urgency, silencing her fading protests. The wet slap of their skin against the wall, the rhythmic thwack of flesh on flesh, is a drumbeat to their descent into primal ecstasy.

~ CASIMIR ~ I was slick with sweat, could feel it trickling down my spine despite the fact that I hadn’t worn a shirt. As I stepped into the dark den I turned to bar the door. But when I reached down to pick up the beam, pain spasmed at the hollow of my back. I hissed against it as I dropped the thick bar into the brackets, but was forced to take a moment, leaning on it, gripping it until my knuckles turned white as I fought the cord of the bond in my chest that was thrashing, whipping like a striking snake.