Nsfw Books Novels & Stories

They were both impressed that I have already published a half dozen books that have been fairly successful. “I love the Erotic Wizard book you wrote,” Fiona purred. It amazed me that she had already read one of my books. “I get aroused every time I think about those steamy sex scenes you described,” she announced openly. There was a short silence that followed and Franny was grinning broadly when I glanced over at her.

Ezra had noticed this yet he fell hard for him. The problem was, Kendall only ever treated him like a bro. A roommate. A guy you'd share instant noodles with at midnight, borrow ten bucks or a benjamin from, a guy he'd occasionally elbow in the ribs during late-night Dirt 5 gaming sessions. Ezra got Kendall's attention sure—but never in the way he wanted. Kendall saw him only as plain, ordinary, Ezra. So, Ezra had done something stupid. Something very reckless. He’d created Maya—a female catfish Winstagram account, with photoshopped pictures of a Brunette girl from Stock photos. He had replied Kendall's story about Kafka being possibly better than Dostoyevsky.

♕𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆♕ 𓆙mature content𓆙 𓆙contains abusive stuffs𓆙 𓆙murder𓆙 𓆙non-consensual / dubious consent sexual activities𓆙 Iғ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ. Iᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ғᴏʀᴄɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛ� � ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ. Don't copy my work. This is based on my imagination.

I moaned as he lifted me onto his desk effortlessly, knocking books aside. “Spread your legs,” he growled, ripping my panties down with one swift movement. “Fuck, look at this pretty little pussy. Already dripping for me.” He slid two thick fingers into me without warning, pumping them fast and deep. I cried out, clutching his wrist as pleasure shot up my spine. “Quiet,” he ordered, pressing his other hand over my mouth. “Anyone could walk by.” The thrill of getting caught only made it worse. My hips bucked against his fingers as he curled them just right, making stars explode behind my eyelids.

BOOK 3: CHAPTER 61: Unholy Addiction “Oh my God…” she cries out, her voice loud, raw, and soaked in overwhelming pleasure. Moans spill from her lips like confessions—explicit, fevered, and uncontrollable. Lust, dark and consuming, pervades every inch of her senses, stealing her breath and reason.

That fucking diamond pattern from your cubicle, unmistakable, like a dirty little secret laid bare. Your mind spins, lust twisting into something darker. Could it be Sabrina? The thought’s a blade, sharp and hot, slicing through you. The idea that the goddess from the office, with her angelic smile and fuck-me eyes, could be this filthy little exhibitionist—it’s too much. You’re rock-hard, imagining her spread open in that cubicle, touching herself while you’re just feet away, clueless. Who the hell is Kat18, and how deep does this rabbit hole go? ****************

Hey beautiful people, Just a warning. This book is an erotica, which means 18+, so if you are uncomfortable with sex and adult shit, please don’t read my books. But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4) Emily Warner

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible steam, steam, fun, and naughty stories. If you're not up to eighteen, this book is not for you. Get ready to be intrigued. To feel. To...sin. ---------- “I made myself tight for Big Daddy,” she leans up and whispers in my ear. “Every morning and night, I clenched it really tight, released, clenched, released…”

Genre: Demon x Human | Dark Fantasy Romance CW: Explicit sexual content, dark themes, possessive behavior, consensual but intense interaction. . . . The tavern in the city’s edge district reeked of smoke, sweat, and regret. Jolene Blaock didn’t mind it. It was a place where questions got lost in drink and eyes never stayed too long on one face. That night, she wanted that anonymity. A bruised heart, a broken job contract, and no more patience for the gods she used to pray to, she just wanted to be left alone.

She had a late sociology lab; I was done by one. Friday afternoons were my sanctuary. The only time the house was empty, silent, and completely mine. And I had a ritual. It started a month ago. I'd ordered my first real adult magazine online, discreetly shipped in plain packaging. 'Sinful Nights. It felt like holding contraband. This wasn't the soft-focus suggestive stuff; this was graphic, explicit, a window into a world of unapologetic lust. In our digital age, it felt strangely more intimate, more dangerous, than just pulling up a site.