Novel & Cerita Lecture Erotique

They were supposed to be on the same team. Santos Khyle arrived in Seattle as the Soul Reapers' most anticipated rookie in years, a natural-born scorer with something to prove and a chip on his shoulder the size of a regulation puck. Gunner Jäger had been tearing up the ice as the team's feared enforcer for two seasons, and he had zero interest in sharing his spotlight with some orange-haired twenty-one year old who looked at him like he was a problem to be managed. From the moment they met, it was war. On the ice, they were a disaster. Off it, they were worse. Screaming matches in corridors. Fists through locker room walls. A live on-air brawl that made every highlight reel in North America and earned them both a suspension, a lecture from their furious coach, and the undivided attention of the entire hockey world. Nobody could stand to watch them together. Nobody could look away either. Because underneath the fury and the bruises and the months of spectacular mutual destruction, something else was building. Something neither of them had language for yet. Something that felt uncomfortably like the only fight either of them was actually afraid to lose. The Soul Reapers are one playoff run away from everything. Gunner and Khyle are one honest conversation away from falling apart completely. Or maybe, just maybe, from finally figuring out what they are to each other. Pucking Up the Ice is a slow burn MM romance set in the brutal and beautiful world of professional hockey. It contains explicit language, on-ice violence, emotional gut punches, two men who are absolutely terrible at feelings, and a love story that had to break everything before it could build something worth keeping.

“That’s it, little sister,” he rasped against my ear, voice low and dangerous. “Soak your stepbrother’s fingers like the dirty, naughty girl you are.” Two thick fingers plunged deep into my dripping core without warning, stretching me, claiming me, pumping hard and fast. I whimpered, biting down on his shoulder to stifle the moan that threatened to betray us. “Be a good girl and stay silent…” he rumbled low in my ear, “or everyone in this library will know exactly how desperate you are to be fucked by me.” ~~~~ One reckless, drunken night. One masked stranger who set her body on fire with sin and secrets. No names. Just raw heat, tangled limbs, and forbidden pleasure. The next morning, still throbbing from the memory, Miyara walks into class only to freeze. The man commanding the lecture hall is no stranger. He’s Caden Cross, her stepbrother. The one who vanished six years ago, leaving her with a childhood crush she never quite buried. Her one-night stand. Now he’s back. Older. Darker. Her professor. The stepbrother she once ached for has returned with one purpose: to take her, ruin her, and break her completely, until she’s nothing but his. As buried secrets surface and outsiders conspire to tear them apart, Miyara must decide: fight the pull of the forbidden… or surrender to the man who’s always owned her heart and now wants every filthy, shattered piece of her. Will they burn together in the ashes of their taboo desire, consequences be damned? Or will the world force them apart before she can beg for more? ️ Warning: This story contains explicit sex scenes, stalking, non-con/dub-con acts, coercion and manipulation. Kindly proceed with caution

The factory had just finished expanding when my wife insisted on bringing her older brother in as our driver. The very next day, my brother-in-law sold my $45,000 business car to a used car dealer. Not only that, he had the nerve to lecture me. "You're just a small business owner," he said. "Driving a car this expensive is a waste. You might as well sell it and buy gold for my sister. At least that'll appreciate in value." I swallowed my anger and tried to explain. "I've never treated her poorly. I've never missed a holiday gift. Compared to what others spend, driving this car is already modest." He flew into a rage instantly. "You still dare talk back? My sister gets treated like a maid by your mother every day, and you pretend not to see it. "Driving a luxury car, pretending to be rich, probably thinking about keeping a mistress. As long as I'm around, don't even think about it. "In my family, women handle the money. You'd better transfer all your assets to my sister." I turned to leave, but he punched me straight in the eye. When my wife rushed over, she did not defend me. Instead, she scolded me for looking down on her family. While I was being treated for my eye injury, she even allowed her brother to sell all the gold and expensive watches in our house. They used the money to buy a car for his son and even sold the house just to show off their wealth. Meanwhile, she went online and complained about how miserable her married life had been. I was so furious I was speechless. In the end, I called the police. Since they were so eager to get their hands on my money, I decided they would not get a single cent.

"Keep your hands on the fucking desk." His voice is dark, as he presses my palm against the desk bending me over, his c*ck burying deep inside. "You like that?" he whispers against my ear. I whimper and arch my back further, trying to take him deeper despite the pain. I never thought I'd like this sort of thing, never thought I'd even try it. But here's Harlan, opening me up to a world of pleasure and vulgarity that I didn't even know existed, and fuck, it hurts, but it's so fucking good, I can't imagine stopping. "Yes," I breathe. He slaps me harder. His palm lands against the side of my face with an obscene smack that makes me feel sick and delighted and dirty all at once. I moan as he draws me closer to release. “Yes, what?!” he demands, pulling me up by my hair. “Yes, professor.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Eden Shaw craves more than straight A's... she hungers for the forbidden gaze of her brooding professor, Harlan. What starts as stolen glances ignites into a dangerous game of dominance and desire, where every lecture hides a secret touch and every grade comes with a price. But when Eden uncovers Harlan's hidden past as Ethan Hale, heir to a fractured legacy, their illicit affair is endangered. In a world of powerplays and buried truths, can Eden submit to the man who owns her body... before he claims her heart? Because Harlan's past is not just painful, it's dangerous, and Eden is about to find out that loving him means entering a world she was never supposed to see. A world full of secrets. A name he no longer claims. And a choice that could destroy them both. ~ She wanted to impress him. Now she may have to save him.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.