Mha Mouths

The rogues cornered you, their scent tempted you. The first of them shifted back to his human form, with a ripped, muscled body. You follow his lead and shifted back into your human form, offering them your beautiful body on a silver platter, ready to be devoured, no longer having the will to fight the heat.He walked over to you and hungrily pulled your body against his. His erection pressed against your skin. The rest of the rogues shifted into their human form, one looking better than the other. You wanted them all. Their hands and mouths were all over your naked body, licking, touching, grabbing. With one of their faces between your legs, you caught a delicious scent. 'My fated mate is among them,' you thought and opened your eyes.Your eyes met a rogue who was still in his wolf form. He must have just joined. 'MATE,' you felt it rip through your soul as your eyes met his wolf's eyes. He growled and the one light in the dark alley flickered before it popped. The men who were devouring your body let you go as if your skin were burning them. They shifted back to their wolf forms, their heads low, before running away, leaving you alone with the rogue that had just scared them off, your fated mate.‘I am fated to a rogue?’ you asked, unable to speak. Your body needed him to take you as if the other men prepared you just for him.He changed into his human form, but you couldn't really see his face because it was too dark. The moment his body touched yours, you knew no matter what, there would be no parting from him.“Mine,” his husky voice said in your ear...

“I trusted you!” Zachary yelled angrily his hands curled into fists at the revelation that he just got. "Is this is how you repay me?!” “I never told you to trust me." “Do you honestly think that I will let you get away with this?" Zach looked at the woman furiously. “Well, you’ll be disappointed." He took long steps towards her threateningly and held both hands, pushing her towards the wall hardly. “Do you think I'll let you get away from this?” Alex looked at him hardly, their faces close to each other, mouths almost touching. “Because I won’t.” Zach then pressed his mouth on hers in a hard and hungry kiss, giving in to the demands of his body that's been eating him for a while. Zachary Montgomery, 36, is a hard-working FBI agent, who works in counterterrorism, instead with the big law firm that his family had for generations. He is a man with goals and conviction. Alexandra Walters is a 27-year-old diner co-owner with her aunt and her wheelchair-bound younger sister. She turned her back on the thrilling and fast-paced life she once had. When Alexandra met Zachary over an incident that she believes has something to do with the case she abandoned, she forced her way in, despite his resistance and persistence in pushing her away and keeping her away from the case. Covering up their attraction towards each other, Zachary will do anything to keep her away for her safety while Alexandra made a vow to herself that she will get the information she needs to finally close the case that has been haunting her. Even if it means, seducing Zachary Montgomery to her bed.

Sixty-nine ways to make you sin. Sixty-nine positions to leave you soaked, dripping, trembling, begging for more until your bellies are bloated with hot loads of cum. These daddies do not hand you candies. They want your mouth wrapped around their dirty, hungry cocks. This is not romance. This is not gentle bedtime stories. This is pure, filthy desire, grown men with hungry mouths, ruthless hands, and cocks that know exactly how to make you cum undone. Neighbors with dark smiles. Daddies who do not ask, only take. Stepbrothers who turn one look into a night you will never forget. From late-night encounters that start with a knock and end with your legs shaking, to a therapist giving you private sessions that blur the line between control and surrender, every story drags you deeper. Tongues that do not stop. Fingers that find every weak spot. Bodies locked together in positions designed to break you open and keep you wet. These innocent virgins are adults with secrets they are ready to unleash, craving dominance, chasing the edge, surrendering to pleasure that leaves them gasping. And wet. And dripping for these daddies. Each story pushes them into new positions, new sins, and orgasms they cannot take back. No rules. No apologies. Just sweat-slick skin, whispered commands, and climaxes that hit hard and do not let go. If you want sweet, close the book. If you want dirty, and your sheets soaked; if you need your pussy throbbing, your thighs slick, and your thoughts twisted, step into this wet dream. This is your dirty fix to get your lips swollen, panties ruined, your new wet obsession. Note: A few stories contain incest. Welcome to 69 Positions: Make Me Cum Daddy.

Tristan Hayes' life took a sharp turn, one moment he was on the cusp of his dream then suddenly found himself drowning. Trauma surgeon residency was brutal enough; losing his scholarship was a knockout blow. Desperate, he swallowed his pride and became "Titan" at Club Inferno. Six months, and he was their star, his body a commodity. Tonight was his last dance – he was booked for a bachelorette party for a bride-to-be linked to the Mafia family. He remembered the haze of perfume, the clamor, the hands pulling him closer and the willing mouths tasting him. He remembered the bride, her eyes wide, her laughter turning into moans and gasps. He entertained the women, the night ending with the bride's face covered in his thick sticky seed. After this night, he wanted to close this chapter of his life. He wanted to forget it all. He should have. Tristan awoke in a cold, unfamiliar room, the fear paralyzing. Now, bound and gagged in a concrete cell, the memory was a burning brand. He learned why they called Giovanni Sokolov "The Siberian Winter." Giovanni, a face carved from granite, stood before him. "My bride," Giovanni’s voice was a low growl, "You entertained my fiancée, She died a week ago, trying to run away with a man. Your seed was the catalyst. You helped her betray me." Giovanni leaned closer, his eyes devoid of warmth. "She was running away, Dr. Hayes. You helped her crave forbidden fruit. You opened the door to betrayal." He smiled, a cruel, predatory expression. "Now, you will pay the price of her betrayal. You will take her place... as my companion in bed... my slave and my plaything. Don't worry I'll make you'll enjoy every second of it."

On the night of my sister’s engagement party, my life officially crashes. Again. All because of one name on the invitation. Zachary de Sanctis. My sister’s fiancé. Fiona. My ex, the guy I punched in the face five years ago. Heir to the richest old-money family in Europe. And one tiny detail only God and I know: he’s the father of my twins. For the past five years, I’ve been hiding out in a little town in Oregon, working as the CEO of a IT firm while chasing two four-year-olds who look more like their father than me. Isaac and Isabella: two mini De Sanctis clones with the last name Gómez, razor-sharp mouths, brains that run too fast, and a talent for causing trouble exactly when I need peace. My family knows I came home pregnant and alone. They just never asked who the father is, and I never offered an answer. As far as they’re concerned, I’m still Arabella Gómez, the wild one who lost her way. I thought going to Fiona’s engagement party would just mean a few hours of fake laughing, then a quiet drive back to my glass-walled house in Oregon and two sets of blue eyes calling me Mommy. Until Zach walks into my parents’ living room holding Fiona’s hand… and his gaze stays on my face a little too long. He can’t find out about Isaac and Isabella. Fiona can’t find out her perfect fiancé was mine first. And my family can’t know what really happened five years ago. Hiding a scandal between two rich dynasties is one thing. Hiding two chaotic twins who are basically their father’s face copy-pasted? That’s the real nightmare.

In his bid for perpetual life, the first Don of the Bryant family annihilates the witch clan and violently takes possession of their most sacred relic. In the moments before her death, the head of the witch clan places a curse on every descendant of the Bryant family. Every descendant will suffer a sudden mutation at the age of 23, where their bodies would be covered in thick, black hair, and fangs would sprout from their mouths, turning them into monsters. They can only lift the curse if they marry a descendant of the witches. Ella Crawford—my sister—and I are the last remaining descendants of the witch clan in the human realm. In my past life, Oliver's lottery selection fell on the attractive Ella. I was aware that Ella lacked the power to lift the curse, so I secretly swapped the lots, and Oliver ended up married to me. In the end, during our wedding night, Ella set herself alight, proclaiming that she had lost her eternal love and didn't want to face life without him. As a result, Mom and Dad drove me out. Oliver, however, took me in and showered me with affection. It wasn't long before I conceived his child, and he successfully survived his 23rd birthday. Yet, barely a day later, Oliver pushed me into the fire pit. I pleaded with tears streaming down my face, "I freed you from the curse and am currently carrying your baby, Oliver, so please don't treat me like this!" Oliver merely responded with a malicious grin as he tossed the torch aside. "If it weren't for your interference, Ella would have lifted the curse for me! I would have been able to spend the rest of my life with her, Cynthia!" In the end, I was completely consumed by the flames. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Oliver chooses his bride by lot. I immediately snap the tampered lot, as I'm eager to find out how Ella will save Oliver without any witch powers in this life.

I got a car straight from the Lycan Chairman himself—a ride costs more than tens of millions and can turn every traffic light green. I got it because the Lycan Chairman once fell on the battlefield, his heart torn open. And me? I'm the one bound to him by a blood-sealed contract, the only secret healer who could save his life. To win me golden hour for surgeries, I was awarded with such an honored ride. I treated it like sacred ground, kept it hidden in my mate Yorick's underground garage, polished and guarded, ready for the day the Lycan Chairman might need me again. That day came. The summons burned in my hand, urgent and sharp. I rushed to the garage, ready to drive, and the second I approached the garage, a strange woman slid into the back seat. "Take me to the Nighty Bar," she ordered, flipping her hair. "Yorick had waited for me minutes. If he's mad at me being late, I'll make you regret it." My hands froze on the wheel. "This is my car," I told her, calm but firm. "I have urgent business. You need to get out. Now." She sneered. "What a joke. A chauffeur pretending to be the owner? You must have a death wish." Her soldiers glanced at me sideways, voice dripping with disdain. "Everyone in the pack knows that this car is Alpha's exclusive for picking up Selene! You're just a little healer. Do yourself a favor and listen to her." Their words cut sharper than any blade. The car that carried the highest secret of the werewolf race, the car tied to the Chairman's very heartbeat, in their mouths, it was nothing more than a toy. A plaything my mate used to please another she-wolf. They wanted me to bow. To surrender. To sit there, silent, while they spat on me. But what they didn't know, the Lycan Chairman's soldiers were already on their way.

When last did you cum? Because this collection of sins will have you on your bed—lights dimmed low, music turned up, and fingers buried deep in your soaking wet pussy—screaming yourself hoarse as you cum over and over like a good little girl. This isn’t a book. It’s a one-way descent into every dark, forbidden craving you swore you’d never entertain. Stepbrothers who watch you bend over in short skirts. Stepdaddies who linger at your bedroom door. Priests who break every vow just to taste what they shouldn’t. And possessive, brutal men who don’t believe in sharing unless it’s you, stretched wide and ruined between them. Where desire meets defiance and surrender. Forbidden love stories with dominant men that have you on your knees, gasping, throat stuffed, body hot and begging for more. To be used, to be abused, conquered. These men don’t ask. They take. They drag you into their world of sin and make you like it. You'll cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache. Beg for their hands, their mouths, their cocks—anywhere, everywhere. They’ll whisper filth into your ear while your legs tremble. Force you to admit how wet you are, how badly you want it. And you’ll obey, because good girls don’t keep secrets. They don’t care if they’re your stepfather. Your priest. Your brother-in-laws. Your best friend’s brother. Or all of them at once. They’ll spit on your morals. Corrupt your innocence. Fuck you until your name’s forgotten and only theirs remains. So light the candles. Get the toys. Say your prayers, if you dare. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you—It owns you. And you’ll love every wicked, filthy, degrading second of it. FB Page: Ireti.

Three women. And maybe more... Three stories. And more... All soaked in desire that doesn't care about rules, vows, or shame. These aren't tales of love-they're confessions of raw, hungry need. Lust that makes your cünt throb, your cöck twitch, your breath catch. Pages moist with sweat, wet with cūm, dripping with sin. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands-everything presses, slides, and fūcks in ways that make your pulse race. You'll read about pūssies dripping, cöcks hard and throbbing, mouths gagging and sūcking, āss cheeks spread, tongues sliding inside folds, fingers plunging deep. Every page pulses with heat, with mōans you can feel, with bodies colliding and fücking without mercy. Inside, nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. A married woman spreads wide for her forbidden lover. A professor trembles as her student takes her mouth. A stranger is bound and worshiped, every inch of her body devoured. And that's just the beginning. Every filthy craving, every desperate mōan, every secret you've never dared whisper-it's here. Women devour women. Men ravage men. Lovers cross every line they shouldn't. So go on. Pretend your fingers aren't twitching to turn the page. Pretend your thighs aren't already wet. Pretend your cöck isn't straining. But once you give in... once your eyes slide across the first word... you'll feel it- the slow, dirty pull between your thighs, the rush of want crawling through you, your body answering before your mind does. And from that moment- you don't just read it. You become it. Your püssy, your cöck, your jūices, your mōans, your filthy, trembling need-all mine to claim, to taste, to drive wild. So tell me-would you be mine? Would you dare turn these cūm-stained pages?