Pieck Finger Pfp Novels & Stories

"You're mine, cara mia. All of you…" Stephan whispered huskily into my ear. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne, mixed with the heady aroma of sweat and desire. His large, strong hands were wrapped around my body, one of them trailing slowly down my thigh. I felt completely consumed by him, unable to escape the heat of his touch. My heart was pounding… “But I have a fiance." Although I was loving every moment of this, I couldn't bring myself to accept what he laid before me. “And he loves me so much, Stephan. I can't do this to him. I—” His next response left me in bewilderment. “Shssh—” He hushed me, placing a finger across my lips. "I'll pay him off…" •••••••• Even though I knew it was wrong, I felt my heart racing at the thought of him. I was engaged to someone else, a kind and caring college student who had always been there for me. But this man, this powerful and mysterious billionaire, had awoken something in me that I couldn't ignore. I knew that I was playing with fire, and that it could all go up in wild flames. But I was willing to take the risk, because I knew that this was something I had to explore. Every inch of it. I had to find out what lay at the end of this dangerous path

My name is Elena Valesi Moretti. I'm a Brooklyn mob bride, a pawn in everyone's game. My father Enzo traded me for an alliance. My sister Isabella played the saint while secretly selling our baby sister Sofia to the Bianchi family behind closed doors. And my husband, Dante Moretti—the man with winter in his eyes who whispered “Try to run, I’ll break your legs” on our wedding day—he married me because when I was fifteen years old, I once pointed a gun at him inside a burning building. The only rule in this marriage was simple: stay out of his way. I spent three years breaking it. I sat in on council meetings and memorized every traitor's secret. I stood and watched a man's finger be severed to teach my own brother the price of betrayal. I turned myself into a blade. Then I uncovered the truth—Dante knew everything from the start. He knew my father had planted a mole inside his inner circle. He knew my sister was a trafficker's broker. He knew the woman he married was meant to be disposable from the very beginning. But there's one thing he never accounted for. He didn't marry a lamb. He married a wolf who learned how to draw blood. Now someone is trying to sell my little sister, and I have six weeks to stop it. I'm going to beat this man at every game he ever taught me.

I don't believe in fairytale. I don't believe in happy endings too. To me, anything that involves freedom is a myth. Love is a strange word, something I sought for ages but only got slapped back in the end by the strong fume of hatred that surrounded me. The only thing that can end this pain is death, mine or my abuser's. And either way, I was prepared. ~Ellen Oliver ~ *** His hand roamed my body possessively, his gaze penetrating me with lust and hunger, his finger finding its way to my core. His voice, gruffly and nasal, filled my ear with a disturbing hunger. "You are mine. Mine alone. Mine to touch, mine to keep, mine to fuck. All of you, Omega. I own all of your goddamn body. You are my pleasure toy..." *** Rejected by her mate and forsaken by her pack, Ellen Oliver endured massive humiliations and tortures because she was believed to be a cursed wolf, and like an icing on the cake of her misery, she happened to be an Omega too. The hell, she was the weakest Omega. After losing her mother due to a forced labour to produce her, Ellen was hated by even her Beta father whom one would have expected to naturally love her. She felt life couldn't get any worse for her, as her survival depended on how well she pleases and entertained her tormentors. But there was a revival.. a revival she never expected nor believed and it came with a change that had her tormentors on their knees, at her feet. ..

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age-gap erotica. This is an erotic boxset containing twelve stories of irresistible 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...burn. ----------------------- "Now, let's discuss your shorts." A big hand slips under the blanket and glides down my knees to my innermost thighs, a finger finding my pussy, and sinking in. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. Did you wear this to torture me? Answer me." "Yes," I manage after two gulped breaths. "I wore it for you." With no panties. Everything bare. "You want me that bad, Theresa? You want me worked up, right? Feral, agitated, hopelessly turned on, huh?" My lips part as he shifts the stethoscope, listening to my heart pound as I answer. "Y-yes." "Say it. I want to hear every word." "I wore shorts to turn you on, Dr Storm. Every time." Excitement flourishes in my stomach, and I ride it like a tidal wave. "I wore it so you could..." He waits, bristling with impatience as I trail off. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and his whole sculpted body is tense beneath me. "So I could what, Theresa? So I could what?" The silence is so loud, the tension so thick, his eyes so intense, so needy to hear the words, I feel my toes curl. "So, you could put your hand up there, Dr Storm. So, you could touch me."

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn’t. I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger’s name, a ring worth more than my parents’ love ever was, and a son whose father I’ve never seen, never known, never remembered. I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever. For six years, I’ve lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it. Then fate laughed in my face. My sister married my ex-fiancé—the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name… and looks far too much like my child. Every time I’m near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I’m terrified to ask. I shouldn’t notice him. I shouldn’t feel anything. He is my sister’s husband. But some secrets refuse to stay buried. Because the truth about Vegas isn’t just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms. It’s standing right in front of me. And when it finally comes out, it won’t just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.

We had been married for three years, and together, our income was decent at twenty-six grand a month. Yet, we barely had two hundred bucks in savings. My husband was a nice guy, lending practically his entire wages to our next-door widow and her daughter. He covered their expenses when the daughter needed money for school, when the widow needed a little time at the spa, and when they wanted to give their home a new facelift. The moment my father fell ill and needed surgery, I went next door to ask for the money back. However, my neighbors slammed the door in my face. “Your husband chose to give us the money. Why should we pay you back?” Enraged, I sought help from my husband, only to be criticized. “I felt bad for them. Why did you demand payment when they are already struggling? What’s wrong with you?” I smirked. That night, I decided to do a good deed by spending my entire paycheck to help a broke college hunk. The next day, our power was cut off for unpaid bills, and my husband lost an unfinished document he hadn’t saved. Putting his finger up my nose, he gave me a piece of his mind. “Where’s your money? Why didn’t you pay the bills?” I replied with the most innocent look on my face, “I helped a struggling college student. His life was falling apart because he had to deal with a sick mom and a deadbeat dad. His needs should come before the utility bills.”

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

His dick continued pounding into her. He had gone harder, stretching her even more. She couldn't help but moan. This sound had him losing his mind. He went even faster, his finger stuck in her hair. "Fuck!" He cursed as his breathing turned rapid. His hand went down to spread her legs apart as she tried closing them, not being to take all he was giving her. "Don't close them!" He said between grunts. His hand went to play with her clit. It had turned swollen. With each thrust, his hand went in a circle on her. His rough fingers were soft on her, going soft but at the same time, hard. He knew his techniques. Her legs began shaking more as she was on edge. She was ready to cum. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began to drool slightly. His thrust remained in pace soon her walls began to tighten. She was near. " Oh yes!" She screamed as she came hard on his dick. She tried catching her breath, short of air from their sex. Quickly, he rolled over and she ended up on top. His dick was still inside her, hard and twisting. That was when it hit her, he hadn't had his release but she still asked. "What are you doing?" "We aren't done yet. You are going to ride me, hard and fast."

"This game of yours is barbaric. How dare you make me play it?" Karen's anger rose again as she realized it was his own fault for being sore, tired, and bleeding. She could have died if it had not been for that asshole guy. "I suggest you take your finger out, Karen, and speak to me in a more respectful manner," Xavier warned. She finally lowered her hand, but she wouldn't back down. What he had done was unacceptable. "Why did you leave me to fight those werewolves if all that senseless bloodshed was to find a mate? I'm a hybrid, half-wolf! Obviously I shouldn't be there," she said angrily. "I have my reasons," he replied lightly. "Damn it!" she grabbed his fur again to make sure. ****************************************************** Karenina Mason, a headstrong and independent young woman, is not just an ordinary human-she is a rare hybrid with a powerful lineage. Unknowingly, she becomes entangled in a perilous game of political intrigue, where the coveted prize is to become the mate of the enigmatic and all-powerful Alpha of Westwood. Karenina resists this unwanted destiny, but fate seems insistent on thrusting her into this union. In her vulnerable state, Karenina finds herself surrounded by adversaries, and her once-trusted friends remain beyond her reach. Forced to rely on Xavier Westwood, a mysterious and captivating figure with his own hidden agenda, Karenina is drawn into a world of danger and desire. As they navigate the treacherous path together, an intense attraction grows between them, unraveling long-concealed secrets that should have remained locked away-secrets that may unleash powers too volatile to control.

“You were more cooperative the other day when you had my face buried between your thighs,” he smirked at me, a victorious glint in his eyes while my blood chilled to ice, “if I remember correctly, you even begged for more.” I opened my mouth to say something but I couldn't think of anything. All I could feel was dread and more dread. This wasn't happening. "It's... This is a lie." "Which one?" He looked so triumphant, "the fact that you've shattered multiple times around my fingers? Around my cock? That you've cummed countless times on my tongue?" He moved closer to slowly trail his finger over my face, a dark look in his eyes, "Or that you were always swallowing my cum like a needy slut?" ******* Scarlett is a sheltered mafia princess who's expected to be prim and proper and no one knows the dark fantasies that live rent-free in her head. It’s a secret she’d take to her grave and would keep confined to the pages of her journal until a mishap happens and she loses the journal. It ended up in the hands of a stranger who blackmailed her and got her to live out one of her fantasies and she found herself going back for more. Unknown to her, the stranger is no one other than Damien Hunter, the heir of a rival mafia group and her brother’s sworn enemy. ******* This is a very dark romance novel with twisted male leads. They do questionable things and they pursue their love interests in dark, twisted and unconventional ways.