Knock Em Stiff Book Novels & Stories

Then she kissed me. It wasn’t soft. It was fast. Open. Tongue. Heat. Her hand pressed between my legs. And I moaned. Then— A knock on the door. We froze. The knock came again. Slow. Heavy. Possessive. Jenna stepped back. “I know that knock,” she said. I opened the door. He stood there. Dark jeans. Tight shirt. Eyes like thunder. Jenna didn’t flinch. She smirked. “Looks like someone missed her curfew.”

Here goes nothing. I pulled my legs into my chest and kicked the door with all my strength, knocking him to the ground. "Fuck you, you stupid bitch!" I yelled as I stomped anywhere I could; his head, arms, and legs. He really fucked up when he turned on his back, leaving his chest wide open. I paid extra love and attention to his kneecaps, and I heard something in the right one crack. I reveled in the way he howled in pain.

Knock. The knock was abrupt, insistent, shattering the peaceful bubble Dan's phone call had wrapped around. Three sharp raps on the solid library door. My eyes flashed open. Reflexively, the smile still on my lips, I pushed back from the bookcase. The afterglow of Dan's words, the precarious sense of calm, propelled me forward on the faded Persian rug. My hand, almost by itself, felt for the cold brass doorknob. Maybe it's one of the workers with a question, I thought.

“You were made for this. You were made to take your Daddy’s cock. Just relax and let me in.” I took a shaky breath, spread my thighs wider, and guided the swollen, leaking head of his cock to my soaked entrance. I felt the broad tip press against my slick folds, and then, with slow, relentless pressure—A sharp knock-knock-knock shattered the silence like a gunshot. Gerald froze.

Punching me in the face, the ribs and the stomach. I scream and struggle trying to move away from Em when her hand goes between my legs, and she uses her claws to rip my underwear off before she retracts them and digs four of her fingers inside me. They both laugh when she lets go of me, stands up and then lifts her hand showing a smear of blood staining her fingers. Em slowly turns and as she walks out says, “Shit Kiki, I forgot that she’s still a virgin.” “Well Em, it won’t take Anton much to fix that for her especially now that you have stretched her a little…”

She bit down on her lip, to stifle her whimpers. “If you’re a good girl, I might reward you,” he whispered against her neck. Feeling his breath on her skin made her sick to her stomach. “Please, stop,” Lily managed to get out. “Please.” Her heart was still pounding in her ears. She could feel her stomach turning, bike threatening to come up. “Don’t worry. I promise you’ll enjoy it.” Donnely bent her over, and braced a hand against a tree. He forced her pants to her ankles, and tore her panties away.

Chapter 67 Emelia’s Pov Jeremy’s voice snapped through the air like a whip, sharp and clear. Nora instinctively turned to him, her trembling fingers still clutching his sleeve. But this time, he didn’t let her cling to him. With a sudden, firm shove, Jeremy knocked her hand away from his arm like her touch had burned him. She stumbled slightly, staring at him in disbelief.

Pin you down, fuck you until you scream my name, not his. Her heart slammed against her ribs, nipples peaking against her bra as his words painted vivid flashes: his dick slamming into her, hands bruising her thighs, no gentle diplomacy—just relentless pounding until she shattered. She shoved at his chest with her free hand, nails scraping fabric, but the elevator jolted to a stop, doors opening to the lobby swarm. Bodies surged out, separating them, Nia bolting into the fray, her skin buzzing, pussy throbbing with denied need.

he said before letting my hand go. “Are you threatening me?” I tried to show him that I am not affected on it even though it scared me. Since young, I trained myself to not easily expose to people what I really feel. Because it’s weakness. I need to be strong. Mentally and physically. But with Vren talking, I don’t know why my knees trembled. I am scared to death. My hands were shivering that I had to grip my clothes to stop it. When I went home, I think nothing but Vren. He is really a jerk. A freaking jerk! I don’t understand him!

She strode towards his room, tired of waiting. "What are you doing, Weston? I'll grow old waiting for you," she grumbled and then froze seeing him looking so gorgeous in a black shirt with sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that hugged his thick, muscular legs. His hair was set and he smelled so good. Weston grinned seeing that toxic thing off her lips. In fact, without that thing on her lips, they looked more kissable. He walked towards her like a predator towards his prey. He had survived without a kiss for the last nine hours! He deserved one right now!