Open Legs

32 year old Sophie decided it's time to stop hiding so she filled up an application to be a Sugar Baby. Weekends that used to be filled up with Netflix and comfort food are now changed into a high-paying profession. Well, weekend profession. She's still the busy working mom of 2 during the weekdays. 19 year old Abigail is the average college girl who has a cuckoo aunt. Her proposal has backfired when her aunt decided to use her info in the profile she's setting up at Cupcake, a Sugar Baby website. Let's hope nobody finds out Abigail signed up as a Sugar Baby. Let's pray harder for Aunt Sophie who has the confidence to pull off being an Abigail during the weekends. Cross your fingers! And your legs too, Soph. I mean, Abby. Err, Weekend-Abby. Cross your legs, Weekend-Abby!

“Open your eyes, Mi Amor. I want to see your eyes when my mouth is eating you out.” Don Raphael growled at me as he dipped his head further toward my pussy. I gasped as his tongue touched my mound, from the back to the front. His tongue was rough against my sensitive pussy. While his tongue was assaulting my pussy, gently penetrating, his thumb was playing with my clitoris. I could barely keep my eyes open. But it was his order so I had to obey. Soon, I felt a pressure building inside of my stomach. As if I was suddenly feeling the urge to pee. My breaths quickened. My legs were shaking, that he had placed on his back as he ate me. I tried my best not to, but suddenly my eyes rolled back into my head. I was about to enjoy my first ever orgasm when he suddenly bit onto my pussy so hard that I screamed in pain. Chucking, he pulled away. I touched that place where he had bitten me. …. Hazel ran to her father's county to avoid her ex who cheated on her. Little did she know, to avoid the little mess she could have easily fought with, she got herself into an actual hell. Her life turned upside down when her father sold her to the ruthless Mafia Don who was known for his merciless ways to torture those who disobey him. From the hope to find true love, she ended up being the Mistress of a Don. Will she ever be loved, or her fate is to never find love?

She didn't mean to moan when he pressed her against the stone wall, his hand between her thighs, his breath scorching against her ear. "You're soaking, little Omega," Damien growled. "Tell me-did you think of us when you touched yourself at night? Or did you cry and clench your legs shut like a good little liar?" She trembled and her body ached for more. Lucian's voice came next, rough and dark. "You ran from us. Left us hard and hungry. Do you know how close I came to tearing through that city just to feel your cunt grip my cock?" Her knees buckled, but Kael caught her, dragging her back into his chest with a growl. "You belong to us, Omega. Say it, or I'll bend you over this desk and make you remember with every inch." She gasped, lips parted, but her voice broke before the words came. "Say it," Damien snapped. "Say who owns this filthy little body." The mate bond snapped, it was wild and irresponsible. She burned for them, and ached for them. And when she ran, they hunted. Now they've found her again, and she was trembling, slick, lying to herself with every breath she takes. But there's no more mercy. She'll scream when they mark her. Shake when they knot her. Break when they bond her. "You were made for our cocks, little mate," Lucian whispers, licking her tears. "Now open your mouth and show us how sorry you are." This time, they don't make love. They destroy her and she begs for more.

“Get undressed and wait for me in bed. Keep your legs open until I finish my shower,” he commanded with the power of his Alpha status and as her mate. She wanted to resist. “Do you think I'm the same Luna you forced in the past? I refuse to submit to you. I won't let you touch me.” He growled softly, feeling a hot desire for her. She was no longer the unattractive Luna he remembered. She was gorgeous. He wanted to devour her with his tongue. He pulled her close and pushed her onto the bed, licking the back of her ear, making her moan in pleasure. He whispered, “I won't touch your body. Just your pussy until you beg for more.” He used to be next in line for Alpha and was under the control of his grandfather, the Alpha king. He had to accept mating with the woman he disliked the most - the daughter of one of the most powerful Alphas in the werewolf kingdom. If he didn't, he might lose his chance at being Alpha king after his grandfather's death. He thought he was mateless at the time. He didn't choose to mate with the unattractive woman, so he cheated on her day and night. But, one drunken night, he lost control and slept with her. Later, he forced her to break their mating bond. But, he discovered she was carrying his triplets. He forced her to be his mate again, or she wouldn’t see her children again. Six years later, he was no longer weak. He was the Alpha king of werewolves.

My sister Isolde and I used to be human. The twin vampire princes, Caelum and Dorian, turned us and married us. The entire vampire world celebrated. Two human sisters, personally turned by the Crown Princes? It was the highest honor a mortal could receive. We believed we were loved. We were fools. Five months into my pregnancy, I was attacked by a group of exiled vampires in the forest beyond our territory. I called Caelum nine times. He didn’t pick up. The exiles circled me, cutting into my arms and legs with blades that burned. Pain tore through my body. I called a tenth time. This time, Caelum’s cold voice came through: “Haven’t you had enough? Vivienne is being tracked by hunters. Stop bothering me.” Vivienne was the human girl that both princes truly loved. The one who had refused to be turned. With nothing to stop them now, the exiles closed in. Their leader drove a blade into my stomach. I watched the light leave my body from the inside out, and felt my unborn child die. When I was close to death, my sister Isolde found me and fought the exiles off. But there were too many. Isolde was badly wounded. She called her husband Dorian for help. All she got was: “Looking for Vivienne. Don’t bother me.” Isolde carried me and ran. A storm hit and we were caught in the open at dawn—deadly for wounded vampires. The border patrol found us just in time. We barely survived. When I woke up in the infirmary, my first thought was simple: Sever the bond.

“Open up, Eve.” His voice was deep, yet velvety like silk. "Wider, I want to fuck you in every single hole till all you can remember is my name." He drawled, parting my legs with a swift move as he stared at me lustily. I gulped hard as the heat pooled between my legs. "Who do you belong to?" A smirk grazed his face as he trailed his fingers on my thigh. "Say it!" And at his command the temperature in the room plummeted dramatically and every fibre in my body wanted to obey that command but I clamped my lips together choosing not to give into the wave of lust that almost drowned me. I would not allow him to possess me. The warmth spreading from my pussy sent shivers rippling through my body. "Say it!" He spanked my ass without pity. "I-I am yours!" I moaned as he plunged his index finger into my wet moist folds. *** Eva Harrison was stuck between her abusive husband who sought to control her in every way, and popular business magnate Adam Stone, who was completely obsessed with and possessed every part of her. In a bid to exact revenge on her cheating husband after years of pain and suffering at his hands, Eva started a secret relationship with Adam and soon got entangled in a web of passionate lust. Eva fell in love with the handsome billionaire but would her husband let her go? Tom vowed to stop at nothing to keep his wife and Adam would do anything to make her his. Who would win? In this twisted tale, love and passion becomes a game and she, a prize. This is the FIRST book in the billionaire erotica, ENTANGLED. Rated 18+ Proceed with caution.

"Spread your legs, little omega slut," he said to me. "I am sorry, there are rules here, sir. We do not sleep with customers here." "Who made those rules?" he asked, whirling the wine in his glass. "The owner of this place," I replied, irritated by all the unnecessary questions. "Who is the owner of this place?" "Mr. Killian Cabello." I replied tersely. This man was arrogant and wanted to defile the rules to show me he could do whatever he wanted. He took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me. "I usually do not give out my card to the likes of you but look at it." I looked at the card and saw his name written boldly on it. He was the owner of this place. He made those rules and is willing to break them now? My eyes widened at the realization. I looked at him. "You are Killian Cabello?" He smirked devilishly. "Now, spread your legs, Omega."

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.

In the middle of a lively night, can you guess what's about to come? In the middle of the busy street, do you realize there is something in the dump? Shane Hoseinzade was peacefully sleeping on the floor when three conservative, loud knocks echoed inside. Would he open the door? On the other side, someone wearing a black cloak and holding a giant scythe is standing on the doorstep. With head bowed down, a pair of mismatched eyes glowed while staring at the door. Patiently waiting for the target to open the door. If you hear three violent knocks on your door at exactly midnight, would you dare to open the door? But what if those violent knocks are the knocks of the person you promised to marry in the future? Death? A grim reaper? A demon? Whoever it is, are you ready to face your fears?

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.