Midnight Pleasures Novels & Stories

The Midnight Contract 6 Morning light filtered through the heavy drapes, painting the room in soft golds. I stirred against Damien’s chest, my body a map of delicious aches—thighs sore, ass tender from the plug and his cock, pussy still faintly throbbing. His arm was heavy around my waist, possessive even in sleep. For a moment I just lay there, listening to his steady heartbeat, wondering how a man who could ruin me so thoroughly could also make me feel this… safe.

New York never slept. Not really. At two in the morning, the streets still pulsed with yellow taxis, flashing billboards, and strangers chasing things they couldn’t name. Dreams. Money. Love. Revenge. Sometimes all four. Ava Sinclair stood outside Club Rouge with her arms folded tightly across her chest, trying not to freeze in the brutal December wind. Her best friend, Talia, was still inside dancing with some finance guy who wore too much cologne and talked like he owned Manhattan.

The Midnight Tease Emma Pov The bedroom was dark except for the soft glow of one bedside lamp. The air felt warm and thick with anticipation. I lay on the bed wearing nothing but a silky black robe that was already falling open at the front. Ryan sat at the edge of the bed, watching me with that calm, intense look that always made my stomach flutter. We had created a new game tonight — **The Midnight Tease**. The rules were simple but cruelly effective: - Everything starts with self-touch.

Maya’s POV Midnight is rude. It removes logic. It removes fear. It removes clothing in your imagination before you can stop it. And unfortunately, my imagination has a favorite victim. My next door neighbor is tall, unfairly attractive, and has the kind of voice that could convince a nun to sin without even raising his tine My name is Maya Collins. I am nineteen. I am supposed to be focused on saving my family business, finishing university, and behaving like a responsible adult.

“And let me guess. This all took place at midnight and that is why midnight is significant.” He claps his hands together as he laughs with amusement. “Exactly. Midnight is such a special time, though they claim there’s a different hour for witching. No, midnight is perfect, especially for us. You’ll know soon enough.” I swallow back the bile shooting into my throat. “You aren’t done showing me the rest of my lives, aren’t you?” As soon as he calms, he nods in agreement. “Oh, yes, Valeria. I’m going to show you everything and then you won’t see your dear fated mate the same way ever again. This life, you will be mine.”

That was worse than any headache. Midnight Climax. This was the place. The trendiest, most diverse strip club in all of Las Vegas, serving all sorts of clients whose tastes were better off not mentioned in polite company—or at least, that's what the owner Andy liked to say. Kat's tastes were pretty tame and standard, so she had no idea why she'd chosen these BDSM performers. All she knew was that she'd been yearning for a crazy night, a familiar place where she could blow off some steam after. . . .

The air was so fresh like you won't go back to the city. While looking at the ceiling, his thoughts traveled to the girl heat outside. He won't give up until he claimed her. He felt like he scented her arousal right when she spoke and it's like drugs to him. He won't sleep a wink if he can't pound that girl. He doesn't care if she had a husband because what he wants is to taste her cunts and hear her soft moans while her husband was deeply asleep inside their room. He will snatch her tonight.

He murmured, his voice a seductive rumble that seemed to vibrate in my very core. His hand lingered near my cheek for a few seconds, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin, sending a rush of warmth down my spine. I felt as if the world had stopped, every sense heightened, every nerve ending alive with electricity. The tension was palpable, and I could feel my body weakening, a forbidden thrill coursing through my veins. I noticed his eyes darkened, his expression became unreadable. "Good night, Lilly." He said finally, his voice a low, husky whisper. “I'll see you in the morning.”

Nine months later. Easter Sunday eve, midnight. The old manor house on the outskirts of the village stood wrapped in moonlight, windows shuttered against the world. Inside the master bedroom, a single beeswax candle flickered on the nightstand, its golden flame dancing across tangled silk sheets soaked in sweat and desire. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine, rosewater, and raw, unending sex.

I couldn’t help it—that tension between the three of us was palpable. Midnight stood up, and with him, the whole mood shifted. His eyes passed over me, and I felt the heat of his dominant presence before he even got close. I didn’t need to move—he just came up to me and, in one swift motion, pulled me off Gutemberg’s lap. "Oh." "Hey!" Gutemberg protested. "We’re going to bed," Midnight said, his voice so cold it made me swallow hard. Gutemberg, however, didn’t like it one bit. He grimaced and cursed under his breath.