Lit Errotica Novels & Stories

she snarled. “Miss Lila! It was Miss Lila!” the driver babbled, terrified out of his wits. “She gave me a hundred gold coins! Told me to pour a vial of liquid on the vegetables! Said it was just a laxative, that no one would get hurt!” Eira stood to the side, watching him, her face completely blank. A laxative? This was an enhanced version of Core Erosion Powder, infused with Dark Blood primal energy. Colorless, tasteless. Undetectable even to low-ranking priests.

“Oh god… fuck me, Mr. Collins… please! Give me your cock!” My fingers moved frantically, curling and thrusting while my thumb rubbed my swollen clit in tight circles. I was so close, moaning shamelessly now. “Yes… deeper… fuck your little virgin, Mr. Collins!” The bedroom door suddenly creaked open. Ria stood there in her tiny sleep shorts and tank top, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her lips as she watched me finger-fucking myself desperately. “Wow. Screaming my dad’s name while you finger your tight little pussy? That’s next-level thirsty, Maya.”

DAMON His hands spread my legs wider, and I can feel his breath on my most intimate parts. I’m already wet, already aching for him. “Look at you,” he groans. “So wet for me already. Did wearing this lingerie turn you on, little wolf? Knowing I’d see you in it?” “Yes,” I whimper. “Good girl.” Then his tongue is on me and I cry out. He licks a long, slow stripe up my center, from my clit to my entrance and back down. Taking his time, savoring me.

We had forgotten to hide it. "Don't worry," Eva winked, her voice surprisingly light. "I don't mind. Honestly, I’m going to go get myself some dick, too. This was never going to work, was it?" She laughed, a sharp, free sound, and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. The silence that followed was heavy. I stood there for a heartbeat, stunned, until the cabinet door swung open fully. Olandria crawled out, her face flushed, her lips glistening with my spit and precum.

My clit ached, begging for touch after last night. He laughed, low rumble vibrating through his chest into mine. "Please what? You want me to finger that needy cunt? Make you squirt all over my desk?" His fingers pressed firmer against the fabric, rubbing slow circles over my clit through the panties. The friction was maddening, building that fire again, but not enough. The wet spot grew, soaking through, his fingers slick with my arousal. "Fuck, listen to that. Your pussy's talking, Mira. Sloppy and desperate."

As if his presence isn't enough, now I am even more turned on. I squeeze my thighs together, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. "I'm sorry sir." "Sorry?" He slowly makes his way towards me, his eyes still fixed on me and making all my senses flare. I can smell his cologne, a thick mix of chocolate, spirit and cashmere. He stops right in front of me, his form completely enveloping mine. "Do you think sorry will take away the images you've planted in my head? Images of your tight, little cunt?"

"Take me right here, right now." His hands gripped my hips, pulling me against him. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach, and I knew he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I shifted my weight, grinding against him, and I heard his sharp intake of breath. "Emma," he growled, his voice a warning. "You're playing with fire." I smiled, a slow and seductive curve of my lips. "Then burn me, Damien," I said, my voice a breathy whisper. "Burn me until I'm nothing but ashes in your arms."

⚠️ ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK This book is not just erotic, it is seduction in words. Every page is meant to stroke your mind, heat your body, and pull you deeper until you forget where you are. You will not read this… you will feel it. And once you enter, leaving will not be easy. Inside, you will find: Unfiltered Heat – Scenes so vivid you will taste them, feel them, ache for them. Dark Temptations – Men who don’t just touch… they claim.

But she was still striking enough to inspire many a love letter from the disillusioned, tortured writers who flocked her English 101 lecture. For a Literature professor, whose specialty is romantic poetry, there was nothing remotely soft and romantic about Erica. She always had a pained expression on her face, as if being happy would suck the very life out of her. "It's not Simon's," Eden said and held her gaze challengingly. But it's her father who charged into the battlefield first with all his accusations.