Novel Fantasteen Novels & Stories

He held me up easily, fucking me with his fingers while Elias stood there, breathing hard, cock straining against his jeans. “Look at him,” Rafael murmured, voice filthy. “He wants to taste you again. But he’s too shy to ask. You like that, don’t you? Two men losing their minds over this greedy little pussy.” He pumped faster, thumb rubbing my clit in tight circles. I was so close already — the combination of Elias’s earlier tongue and Rafael’s bold fingers was too much. “Please…” I begged, not even sure who I was begging. Rafael kissed the side of my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “Come for us, Nova. Come on my fingers while your neighbor watches like a good boy.”

A faint, quiet smile touched my lips as the door clicked shut behind me. The suite was warm, smelling faintly of sweet vanilla and fresh linen. A bottle of expensive champagne rested in a silver ice bucket on the side table, two crystal flutes sitting beside it. Annabelle was already waiting for me in the center of the room. She was dressed in a sheer, ice-pink lace lingerie set that left almost nothing to the imagination. The delicate fabric strained against her full breasts, her tiny waist tapering down into thick, curved hips that spilled out over the thin straps of her panties.

********************* "Sweet," Lucian purrs as he spreads my legs wide and leans in to press kisses to my inner thighs, making me whimper. "Every inch of you is so sweet, I can't get enough." When I feel Lucian's canines follow after his tongue as he makes his way up to my center, I cry out shamelessly and cover my face with a pillow to cage in my lust. Lucian doesn't let me silence my sounds for long; soon snatching the pillow away, he tosses it to the floor with a warning growl. I feel fresh waves of slick dripping from my entrance as I watch Lucian spread me open once more and lick between my legs, teasing across my clit for a brief moment. "I love your spots," Lucian whisp

I tucked them behind my ear and glanced at Tom. He leaned casually against the wall, the moonlight accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw. His messy black hair fell across his forehead, making him look even more irresistible. “Then tell me,” Tom coaxed, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “You can’t call me your boyfriend if you keep your sexual fantasies from me.” I inhaled deeply, my pulse quickening. Tilting my head back, I bit gently on my lower lip before meeting his gaze again. Excitement sparkled in my eyes.

One second I was fiddling with that weird antique watch I bought at the flea market, thinking it was just a cool prop for my next adventure story, and the next, the room spun like a bad acid trip. Now here I was, surrounded by gas lamps flickering on walls lined with faded wallpaper, and women in low-cut dresses giggling from the shadows. I blinked hard, rubbing my eyes, but the scene didn't change. This wasn't my cramped apartment in downtown Seattle. No, this looked like something straight out of a history book—a brothel, Victorian style, with lace doilies on every surface and the faint clink of glasses from a bar in the corner. My backpack thudded to the floor beside me, spilling out a co

Nor had she ever seen such an eclectic collection of oddities. She picked up a pair of boots, vinyl, with a huge, plastic zipper. A vague memory of a porn film she had accidentally flipped on one late night flashed through her mind. Dominatrix, she believed it was called. She dropped the boots and sank onto a little bench sitting against the wall across from the racks of costumes. Fantasies. She had never had a sexual fantasy. All her sexual thoughts had always centered on Steve and their quiet sex life. All she had ever wanted was his hands on her, his lips telling her the things she wanted to hear.

Copyright ©️ 2021. PETILLANT ALBA. All rights are reserved. This is a fantasy novel . All the characters,places ,names and events are all extracted from my imagination. Any resemblance to the real characters,places incidents etc. are coincidental. Since this story is all my creativity so the story will be in consonance with my imaginations. WARNING: It's a dark romantic novel, so there will be mature scenes in it which might be triggering for some of you so read at your own risk.

Gosh, this was hard! Unsure of what to do or where to go, Erin stood where she was, thinking. She still couldn’t figure out how she could be here alone when she’d run into the cave with over a dozen werewolves, including her mate. And what about those that had entered the cave before them? What about Nikjin who had been speaking to them from within the cave? Was this another one of his dark magic? Was this place even real? “Edvana Batog of Quandagh, or is it Erin Brown of Fairbanks?”

If a nation’s culture survives, then so too does the nation. These were the words that passed through Celeste’s mind as she eagerly awaited the train. The underground was a strange place at this time, a place where the underclass crawled from their hidden tenements and stalked the night. Nobody knew her habit. By day Celeste was a pretty normal girl. She generally kept herself to herself, and didn’t ruffle any feathers. By night, she was Franny McCandle, graffiti artist and vandal.

@Gupta Don't forget to check out CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captive Romance and Bride To Be. Please leave a comment, review and share gems for my book!