Nadia Hilker Hot Novels & Stories

Walking out of the chapel just after concluding her penance, with strong hopes that this sacrament of reconciliation will bring good tidings to her. She searched through her bespoke Hermes bag to fetch a keyless remote control. Pointing same towards an obsidian black Mercedes-Maybach S650 seated on the all paved parking lot just about 100 feet outside the chapel. Those new pair of silhouette heels still hurts terribly regardless, she needs to walk like a queen.

Every impact sends sparks directly to my clit like there’s a live wire connecting them. “Look at this greedy little cunt,” Killian says, dragging his fingers through my soaked folds. “Ten strikes and you’re absolutely soaked. Dripping all over my bench like a desperate slut.” He pushes two thick fingers inside me and curls them against my g-spot. “You’ve been a good girl your whole life, Nadia. Polite and quiet. Touching yourself in secret while listening to me through the wall. Tonight Master is going to teach you exactly what that submissive body was made for.”

She was drenched. “You’re dripping for me already,” I whispered hotly, rubbing slow circles over her clit through the material. Nadia’s head fell back against the locker with a soft thud, eyes squeezing shut. A conflicted moan slipped out. “I hate you,” she gasped, but her hips bucked into my hand. Her glare returned, mixed with raw lust. She was fighting every step, making it hotter.

She pulled out her phone and checked the lab monitor app. 68°F. He’d changed it back. Nadia stood there in the empty hallway, thighs clenched tight, heart hammering, pussy throbbing with two years of frustration and want she refused to name. God, this is insane. She was so fucked.

"You have no idea how much you've helped. I don't want to think about what I'd do without such a pleasurable outlet." The way he's looking at me makes my nipples prickle. I almost expect him to lean across the table and ask me to indulge in another round of that pleasure right here. It doesn't exactly help the whole sweat situation, but at least I'm moderately distracted by some of the sensations forming between my legs. "Orlando?" The high, sugary voice makes both of us look up. Nadia Sweet is standing next to the table in a minidress that barely covers her gorgeous curves. She glances at me, then looks quickly back at Orlando, barely hiding her sneer.

But as soon as I saw her face, I recognized her. Arielle Hunt. Only daughter of billionaire CEO Harrison Hunt of the Hunt Group. Fans praise her because of her voluptuous body and exceptional beauty. Interesting. I scrolled down. Photos loaded one after the other. Her at a five-star hotel lounge, laughing at something off-camera, head thrown back, completely unguarded. Next she posed in a beauty spa, eyes closed, head tilted back, at ease with herself in the way people were when comfort had always come naturally to them. In another photo she was standing proudly on a yacht somewhere sunny, smiling like the whole ocean belonged to her and she already knew it.

"Oh, that's fuck up." She look at his wristwatch and let out a deep breath. "I need to go. You do your part, act as Hilary as you could." after he said that he disappeared. Why do I need to do this? What is the purpose? What is the intention? I read some Thiera Luna works in Good Novel and when sleep kick in I put my phone in the side and fall asleep.

he orders. My sensitive nipples throb and my inner thighs sizzle with longing to give him the ride of his life. It sucks that my mind rebels. I hate everything he and his club stand for and I shouldn’t be attracted to him. Fuck it. Easy or hard? I’ll enjoy hard more, so what the hell? “Sure you can get your dick up, bald man?”

I said, trying to start a conversation. "A lot," she laughed. * * * "Clarison is a beautiful name" I smiled. "I know," she laughed. "So, why don't we go to a hotel and you know" I licked my lips. "I get what you are saying. Let's go already" she said as she stood up, wiggling her hips as she walked. * * * Clarison Mitchell 'This man is even easier to fool than I thought' I smiled at him as we entered the room.

She stood and walked past me, but before that, she flipped her hair, her soft hair hit my face making me smell her beautiful scent and she huffed then leave the office. The door got closed, her hair smelled so fucking good. "What the fuck Rhyker?" He laughed, he was laughing non-stop, holding his belly in pain. I rolled my eyes and took the seat that Hemilia occupied, I sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. The ceiling was carved beautifully by a painter, the art of the renaissance. "You like her?" He didn't ask, but more like stated the fact, he took a bottle of vodka out of his drawer and poured the drink into a cup.