Knock Em Stiff Book Novels & Stories

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!

Something was off. His jaw tightened. "Were you not taught to knock where you came from?" he asked, voice low and edged with something dangerous. I smiled slowly, one hand still on the doorknob. Checkmate was eminent .

He had Colin on the library site, protecting the intention through the prose of the construction. He had the Morrow Street box on the shelf. He had R. Okafor's question still in use, still passing forward through the people who had received it. He had Adrian at the desk with his book. He had Catherine at the piano in the corner that had always known what it was for. He had the chalk plant on the sill and the dark green scarf on the hook and the apartment that was December and was always December in its deepest register — the made-ready, the prepared welcome, the room believing in the arrival of the person.

I massaged my scalp, and I kept exhaling slowly to calm down. This was about me taking my time; the terms and conditions were quite much. I fixed my gaze on the book and I was about to start reading it loudly when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," my voice was light. The doorknob twisted, and Cole walked in with his hands in his pocket; his eyes were fixed on the paper, and his lips curled into an evil grin.

The stones are hovering over a small rounded table. Shane touched the pattern engraved on the rounded table while the other two read each word on the stones. "Take Thy Offerings, Fulfill The End Of The Bargain, Goal Shall Be Attained." At that exact moment, the wind blew hard, grazing Shane's cheeks by sharp leaves. "Shane, stay away from the table!" Damien yelled, however it was already too late. A drop of blood fell into the pattern engraved on the table. The table lit up and repelled the three.

I have to go on a business trip for a week, so I get a cat-sitter to come over and feed my cat Muffin while I'm away. But on the second day, when I check the live footage from the living room surveillance camera, I see my fiancee, Kate Swanson's childhood friend Samuel Lambert enter the password for the front door and walk into the house. Then, he throws a grape into Muffin's bowl. Samuel Lambert raises an eyebrow in the direction of the surveillance camera. "Hey, Jonathan. Muffin is a smart one, isn't it? It's not touching the grape at all." Then, as I watch in horror, he unplugs the surveillance camera. I feel my heart sink, and I immediately ask the cat-sitter to head back over and ch

BLAIRE I gripped Raymond’s massive shoulders, my knuckles turning white as I slammed my weight down onto him. The leather of the sofa creaked under us, but the sound was drowned out by the wet, rhythmic slap of our bodies meeting. Every time I rose and fell, his thick cock buried itself deeper into my aching core, stretching me until I felt like I was going to burst. I was taking every inch of him, my pussy walls stretching and gripping the dark, heavy length of his shaft as I moved.

It's something hard and cold and feels like a- It's a Math book. It disappears. And it hits my bare ass. Hard. I gasp, my breath catching in my throat as the shockwave of pain mixes with something darker—something thrilling. He brings the book down again, harder this time. The sound echoes in the room, the sharp slap of plastic against my skin, sending waves of heat through my body. My legs tremble, but I stay still, breath hitching with every strike. By the time he’s finished, my ass is red, sensitive, and on fire.