Lemonade Pink Dress Novels & Stories

18 Explicit raw content. ️ WARNING : this is raw, shameless porn in written form, read at your own risk . This collection contains steamy, dirty raw stories with forbidden kinky desires including rough sex, gay sex, milfs sex, teen sex, forbidden taboo relationships. ****. He begins thrusting in and out roughly, faster as the bed creaks and the head board hits the wall. I felt my br**sts bounce at his movement. “Fuck, you're so tight baby” he growls “unghhh,... Unghhh…” I kept moaning as he kept going. “Kelvin,... Kelvin…” “Yes, cindy, let me hear you scream my name” I felt his c**k pulse inside me, as I clenched him tightly. We both c*m together, breathless and gasping for breath. Just when I thought we were done, he immediately lifts my legs up so both my knees are by the side of my head, and Melvin quickly holds them in place. “You have no idea cindy, how hard I get when I see you walking around the house dressed in nothing but your f**king tank tops and mini skirts that barely even cover up your a*s cheeks when you bend a little. Now, you f**king belong to us, to do as we f**king please.” My p**sy is wide open and glistening up in the air. “Mmmnnn, see how swollen those pink lips are, you love being f**ked by your step brothers don't you??.”

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

"Hayden, you have been a bad boy have you not?" Vincenzo said to me as he unclasped his belt and drew it off his waist, his muscles flexing. "What do you mean-" "Turn around!" He demanded from me as he did so before I could do it. He wrapped the belt around my hands and tightened it. "Vincenzo?" I whisper yelled at him with a glare. "Get on your knees little prince and open your mouth for me. Daddy needs to punish you." "Why?" "Shut your mouth before I do it with my dick Hayden," he threatened me with an evil smirk. "You would not dare!" I snapped at him before letting out a gasp as he pulled his hardened cock out of his boxers, the cap of the monster pink and shiny with precum. "Oh little prince, I would dare," he said as he forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. "Good boy," he groaned as he slid his dick into my mouth, my wetness wrapping around his cock. "Ah, your mouth feels so good," he murmured. And then he began to move, his cock growing more inside of my mouth. ...... Hayden and Vincenzo clash in a battle of wits and strength. Though they are attracted just as much as they despise each other, they are drawn together in an intense and dangerous game. It takes two to tango. It takes two to play the dangerous game. And the winner takes all.

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

Freedom... Was all Anastasia Redeye, an eighteen years old werewolf princess wants, however, it was like when an Omega dreams of becoming a Luna. Unless there is a miracle, it is going to be forever that way. Anastasia was made to dress and behave the way she didn't want, and on the day she clocks 18, her father reveals his plan to her, and that is, she was promised as a gift to the greatest Werewolf Alpha. Well, not as a bride, but as one of his mistresses. This struck Anastasia's heart, remembering her the need to leave this prison called home, thus, she escape. However, on her journey to find this freedom, she met a guy who she didn't hesitate to tease whenever they met, and gradually, she fell into the pool of love. But what would she do when there was suddenly a crisis in his pack and he asked her to leave? Would she stay because of love or leave because of her freedom? If we commit ourselves to one person for life, this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather, it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession but participation.

During the eight years I spent by Alpha David’s side, I also raised the pup he had with my late sister. At his birthday banquet, I accidentally wore one of her old dresses. Eight-year-old Dorian grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured it over me— right in front of the maids. The scalding liquid burned my skin, and when I looked up, I saw the same cold disgust in his eyes that I’d seen so many times in his father’s. “How dare you wear my mother’s dress?” he sneered. “You’ll never replace her. You killed her with that wicked heart of yours!” The coffee seared more than my flesh. It burned straight through my heart. I looked at the child I’d raised for eight long years. I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t even feel sad. Only a quiet kind of exhaustion. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

After three years of dating Nathan Foster, I thought I knew where we were headed. But he never proposed. Instead, he fell in love at first sight with my stepsister. His pursuit of her was bold and relentless, leaving no room for doubt. This time, I didn’t break down or wait around, hoping he’d return like before. I made a clean break. I threw away every gift he had given me, shredded the wedding dress I once secretly bought, and on his birthday, I left Riverdale behind. Just as I was about to board my flight, Nathan messaged me: “Where are you? Everyone’s waiting for you.” I smiled, didn’t bother replying, and blocked him on every channel. He had no idea that, two weeks earlier, I had accepted the proposal of my college senior, Eustace Cooper. When the plane landed in my new city, Eustace and I were ready to begin a new chapter of our lives together—as husband and wife.

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.

"Stay the away from my mate" he threw Alpha Aza to the wall creating a dent, with his speed he grabbed him by the neck and pressed it aiming to him. He was so mad that he would dare lay his hand on his mate, he looked at Claire who was crying and her dress was ripped off showing her . A young boy named Axel born on a cold starry night but was sought after to be killed by his father because of the prophecy that he would kill his own father and reign over the seven realms. Taken away by a powerful sorcerer, he lived and trained with witches protecting them until he found his mate. His father, Alpha Ethan struggles with the prophecy of a great war between the demon and wolves due to the resurrection of Hades seeking alliance with all the packs. Taken to another pack, Axel is forced to fight for his mate against a possessive Alpha who wants her all to himself. Would he be able to protect his mate and also save himself from being killed by his father?

Two weeks before I stopped waiting, Ethan Hayes gave my island invitation to another woman. Her name was Mia Lawson. Twenty-six, pretty, soft-spoken, and always close enough to him that people had started pretending not to notice. That night, everyone at our table went quiet. Ethan didn't. He placed the envelope in her hand and said, "You've been working too hard. Take a break." Mia blushed like he had given her roses. I looked at the envelope, then at the man I had waited eight years to marry. That island was supposed to be ours. The beach, the villa, the ceremony site facing the ocean. All of it. Maya gripped my hand under the table and whispered, "Claire, say something." But I only smiled, because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid I would beg. And I was done begging. Two weeks later, on that same island, my phone kept lighting up with Ethan's name. I didn't answer. I was already wearing the white dress he had told me to return.