Jordan Torres Cock

“Desmond,” I breathed out, “don’t.” But he didn't listen to my plea. His lips found my neck, his teeth gently grazing the frantic pulse that betrayed my panic. My skin instantly lit up beneath his mouth, a complete traitor to my mind. When his hand slid lower, tugging at the drawstring of my skirt, a terrifying mix of panic and deep heat crashed together inside me. “Desmond, please. This is wrong.” “Nothing about you has ever been wrong to me,” he growled out against my throat. Clothes instantly fell away as if they had never mattered. My shirt. His shirt. My skirt. The last threads of my will to fight. He settled heavily between my thighs, a burning hot weight. I felt him hard against me, thick and urgently insistent. My breath hitched sharply when the blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance. “Tell me to stop, Ana,” he said, his voice ragged, his eyes desperately locked on mine. “Say the word, and I will immediately.” I opened my mouth to speak. No sound escaped. He pushed in, moving with agonizing slowness, stretching me open inch by painful inch. A broken, strangled sound left my throat as he filled me completely, buried deep to the hilt inside my most intimate space. My inner walls instantly clenched around him, shocked, aching, and intensely alive. He stilled his movement, letting me fully register every powerful throb of him inside me. “Fuck, Ana,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. “You feel completely like mine.” Then, he moved again.

“I…” He cut himself off, hesitating, before trying again. The words he pushed out of his lips, shy but sure, surprised me. “I want to fuck you for a change.” My eyes widened, stunned. What? “I want to know how quickly you cum from a cock in your ass,” he continued softly. If he knew who I was under this mask— Unease settled in my chest, but I knew I would do it. I needed that money… and the thought of sex with Aaron, anyhow it was offered, had become… scintillating, almost addictive. A guilty pleasure. — There’s a pecking order at William-Alfie High School and Jack is at the top of it. But he shouldn’t. Because that pyramid is strictly held up by money, and over the summer Jack’s parents have gone bankrupt. They’ve managed to keep it a secret, but Jack has to work at a sex club to make enough to keep up the illusion at school. When Aaron Smithy, a usual pushover, stands up to him in the cafeteria, Jack is afraid word has started to spread especially after he puts Jack in his place and he still retaliates by giving him food poisoning. Except he didn’t. Aaron’s bravado ended in the cafeteria. But Jack keeps coming at him so he has no choice but to defend himself, even as he has bigger fish to fry as he slowly falls in love with a sex-worker who has refused to show his face. By the end of the school year, their relationship has morphed into a tangled web of complexity that leaves Jack alone, naked and in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Will Aaron come to his rescue? Or will the newly-fallen shining star implode under it all?

Jake despised weak women, especially women who showed interest in him. A strong and independent woman was what could drive the beast in him, but there was Cassie. Adopted by Jake's uncle at the age of six, Jake treated her like his sister, but how did things change? ---CASSIE--- I imagined him. Just the thought of him had me squeezing my thighs. I kept my eyes closed so I could focus my thoughts on him. My breathing grew heavier as I rubbed my clit, and my body started to tense up, feeling like I was about to tip over the edge of my orgasm. The sensation was overwhelming, and I felt the walls of my room start spinning faster and faster as I rubbed on my clit frantically. I imagined him flipping me onto my back and starting to slowly kiss and lick my body, from my stomach to the peak of my breasts. I could feel his hands work their way down between my legs and I moaned. His expert moves had me losing my breath. "Oh, Jake..." ---JAKE--- Fuck! My steps halted and I instantly regretted my decision to walk into her room without knocking. The bathroom door wasn't fully closed, and I could hear the shower going, but when I turned to leave, her moan reached my ears, stirring my cock alive. Cassie... I almost groaned her name. And then, out of nowhere, she moaned my name, and I swear, my knees went weak. "Damn!" (Read at your own risk!)

Sex starved Alessia Cattaneo knows she’s ventured into dangerous territory when she asks her bodyguard to be her fuck-toy, while still married to her mafia husband. Because her bodyguard, Nico Rossi, isn’t the kind of man any woman can resist having a taste of. With his experience as a retired adult actor and a pleasure escort, he is everything that Alessia wants in a man. Plus, with her emotionally unavailable husband; Alessandro, having an affair with her cousin who ends up pregnant for him, Alessia figures it’ll be easier to keep her secret affair under control. Only… The fire she feels for Nico ends up burning more than she intends. And so does his. Tenfold. Now, he is obsessed with her. Wants to claim her in every way possible. Wants to wreck her in front of her husband. But Alessandro Mancini is not a man to be toyed with. If there’s one thing he hates the most, it’s having his toys taken from him. And Nico is crossing that line. Worse? He is willing to do more for this woman who’s captured his heart and cock in the palm of her hand. In a mafia world of blood, dirty money, betrayals, family loyalty, and sex… could this be a losing game for Alessia and Nico? Is Nico really who he says he is or does he have dark secrets that could ruin Alessia for good this time? Read to find out! WARNING: Contains dark themes of explicit sexual content, graphic violence, domestic violence, gun violence, murder, profanity, BDSM themes, and group sex scenes. Not suitable for readers below the age of 18. Read at your own risk. See you between the pages, dearest dark readers.

Trigger Warning: BDSM. EROTICA. Spice level: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ > “I know you want me… it’s not a secret you can hide.” His fingers traced my lips as I knelt in front of him. He pulled down his zipper, and his cock sprang free—large, hard, and heavy as it brushed against my mouth. I nibbled at the tip, desperate, needy, like a lost puppy, while his blue eyes locked onto my yearning gaze. “Now take it,” he murmured. “Like the good girl you are.” *********************************** Lana has always been the good girl—working hard, caring for her sick father, and staying far away from men. Especially her dangerously obsessed boss who never stopped chasing her. When he fires her on the very day her father needs life-saving surgery, Lana believes her world has ended. But fate has other plans. A private nurse position she applied for weeks ago finally calls her in—and everything changes. Her new employers? Killian Rhys, the heir to a powerful empire who may not be as crippled as he claims. Finn, his dangerously charming best friend. And Tristan, the cold, terrifying uncle who holds the real power. All three want her. All three are willing to pay any price to own her. To save her father, Lana has one choice: play their game. But she isn’t just after money anymore. If they want crazy… she’ll give them crazy. Because Lana doesn’t just want their attention. She wants their empire. And she’s willing to get on her knees to take it.

She didn't mean to moan when he pressed her against the stone wall, his hand between her thighs, his breath scorching against her ear. "You're soaking, little Omega," Damien growled. "Tell me-did you think of us when you touched yourself at night? Or did you cry and clench your legs shut like a good little liar?" She trembled and her body ached for more. Lucian's voice came next, rough and dark. "You ran from us. Left us hard and hungry. Do you know how close I came to tearing through that city just to feel your cunt grip my cock?" Her knees buckled, but Kael caught her, dragging her back into his chest with a growl. "You belong to us, Omega. Say it, or I'll bend you over this desk and make you remember with every inch." She gasped, lips parted, but her voice broke before the words came. "Say it," Damien snapped. "Say who owns this filthy little body." The mate bond snapped, it was wild and irresponsible. She burned for them, and ached for them. And when she ran, they hunted. Now they've found her again, and she was trembling, slick, lying to herself with every breath she takes. But there's no more mercy. She'll scream when they mark her. Shake when they knot her. Break when they bond her. "You were made for our cocks, little mate," Lucian whispers, licking her tears. "Now open your mouth and show us how sorry you are." This time, they don't make love. They destroy her and she begs for more.

The Filthiest Collection You'll Ever Read WARNING: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT They say some lines should never be crossed. This collection crosses every single one. Behind the altar, Father Michael discovers Sister Claire on her knees—but not in prayer. His fourteen-inch cock and her broken vows create the most sinful confession the church has ever witnessed. In the strip club's champagne room, ownership takes on new meaning when the boss claims his newest dancer in ways that blur every professional boundary. Money talks. His fifteen inches scream. The megachurch reverend with the monstrous sixteen-inch secret destroys his young secretary across his Bible-covered desk while his wife leads worship downstairs. Hypocrisy has never been so hard. Married bosses fuck their secretaries on desks still warm from morning meetings. Divorce lawyers claim vulnerable clients on the same couch where they signed papers. Addiction counselors enable relapses—the sexual kind. Therapists finally act on years of inappropriate desire when the final session becomes anything but professional. From nuns breaking vows to brides cheating the night before their weddings, from politicians risking everything to doctors violating every oath—these twenty stories explore the darkest desires we're told to suppress. Wedding rings stay on. Consequences are real. The sex is brutal, explicit, and described in devastating detail. Size matters—twelve to sixteen inches of it—and these encounters leave permanent marks on bodies and souls. No redemption. No excuses. No limits. Just raw, forbidden passion that destroys everything in its path. Are you brave enough to read what shouldn't be written?

EXCERPT. "This cock was the reason you killed my wife, now ride it till it bruises you," Lucien hissed as he tightened his hold around my neck. "You are a bad girl Bambina mia, how can your mouth be watering for my dick?" Don Luciano, my father-in-law, chuckled as he gently rubbed my bruised lips. ...... ...... Despite being the only daughter of a Mafia Lord, Aria had been pampered and hidden all her life, she knew no violence until her 18th birthday. Drugged and miraculously ending up in bed with her cousin's husband, she triggered her death and realized she had no choice but to marry him (her cousin's husband). But Lucien, the head of the largest Mafia syndicate, hated her; he believed she was the reason why the woman he loved died, so he agreed to marry her to torment her. War was brewing but so was sexual desire between the people who claimed to hate one another. Tormented and battered, Aria sought comfort in her favorite popstar, a mysterious, famous, masked singer, Michell Blaze, who didn't scream danger, but Aria soon realized how wrong she was. She thought her father-in-law irritated her but she soon found herself begging for his assault. When the mask fell, Aria realized that she was not only trapped in-between the men who had ruined her peaceful life but also the man who healed and destroyed her. WARNING: RATED 18 FOR THIS BOOK CONTAINS BOTH VIOLENCE AND MATURE SCENES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, for it is a dark romance, so you might see stuff that might be triggering, so please proceed with caution

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé, Shawn Chandler, insisted that I wear a bridesmaid’s dress while having a million-dollar wedding gown custom-made for his childhood sweetheart. “Jessica said she wants to fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress. She’s been looking forward to seeing me get married since she was little.” I threw the bridesmaid’s dress into the trash. His expression darkened as he scolded me, “Why are you so unreasonable? Even if you wear a bridesmaid’s dress, you’ll still be the bride. And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pregnant, I wouldn’t be marrying you at all!” Placing my hand over my belly, I slammed the door and left. That night, he posted wedding photos with Jessica Jordan on his social media. Five years later, Shawn and I met again at a charity gala. He was invited as a specially invited donor, with Jessica by his side in a custom designer gown. The two behaved intimately. When he saw me crouching in a corner sorting a donated box of old clothes, he frowned and walked over. “Tiana Larrinson, you refused to wear that bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes? “Look at you, sneaking into events like this by picking through scraps. You should’ve just listened to me back then.” I was confused, and it took me a long time to remember who he was. What he did not know was that the items up for auction at this charity gala were my and my daughter's old clothes.

Hi lovely Readers, here's the author. Thank you for reading to the end of this book, and a new book is about to start. Enough spoilers, read on to know what happens. Don't forget to leave your comments. XoXo. "I need to come," I tell her. "Please... yes..." "Come with me..." I drop her to her back and lower myself back in position. My belly presses to hers, and her pretty little nipples feel so sweet against my chest. "I can't..." she whispers. "I'm so... fluttery..." "You can," I tell her. "I promise you, you can." I pause. "And you will. Again, Ashley. Come for me again." I rub, back and forth, my dick pinned between my stomach and her pussy, grinding hard, taking so much fucking care not to spear that tight little cunt and fill her up with my cum. "I'm gonna come all over your sweet little pussy, Ashley." "Yes..." she whispers. "Oh God, please... please, Mr. Mancini..." "Don't call me that," I growl, and I'm on the edge, right on the fucking edge. "What shall I call you?" she asks, and I hear it in her voice, I hear she's thinking it, too. It's in the little tremor, the sweet little hint of lust. My breath is erratic, my cock pulsing as my balls tighten, ready to fucking blow. And I say it. I just fucking say it. "Call me Daddy," I growl. "You can call me Daddy."