Play Dirty By Sandra Brown Novelas e Histórias

I stood up on legs that barely felt like mine, knees soft, blood humming. Every inch of my body pulsed with memory, with desire, with that reckless craving that had never really gone quiet since the retreat. Slowly, deliberately, I peeled off my scrubs. Not all at once. I let them slide down my hips with a kind of teasing ease, like my skin was aching to be bared. Underneath, I wore the set I had no business wearing to work. Blood red. Lacy. Practically a sin.

"There is no such thing as losing with us, Puppeteer." "Yes, and we will set this deal with a handshake." "Deal! Then we set it in flesh. The black whore has been a most appropriate offering..." "True, but let us make sure that she is truly gone before we adjourn for the day," "Ah yes, the beauty of mixing pleasure with business... really, dirty business..." "Indeed, Mastermind... now, to pleasure."

' Mischa angrily hissed to herself while her eyes burning in flames locked on Narco. Eyebrows pulled down and face wrinkled in disgust, Klauss grimaced at his current situation. He was having trouble with the dirt that stuck to his clothes and body. The veins in his head, neck, and hands have popped out of anger. He wants to take a bath in boiling acid just to get rid of the extreme grossness he feels right now.

Blurb. Daddy’s Dirty Secrets is a collection of stories where temptation never knocks—it walks straight in. Every tale explores the thrill of forbidden attraction, dangerous choices, hidden affairs, and desires too powerful to ignore. Here, love isn’t always innocent, heroes aren’t always good, and the lines between right and wrong blur with every stolen moment. Whether it’s a ruthless billionaire guarding more than his fortune, a mafia king with a dangerous obsession, an alpha who refuses to let go, or strangers whose lives collide at exactly the wrong time, every story offers a new escape into a world where passion and consequences go hand in hand. No two stories are alike, but th

“What is your business with my virginity? Maybe you should learn to stop poking your nose into other people's business. Then you will live long on earth. Mira pokes my hand, motioning for me to stop. I ignore her. Someone needs to tell him that. Who else but me? He acts all calm and saintly, like he knows everything, but I know what lurks behind that mask. Mira bends down, picking up the rose vibrator and stuffing it into her bag. I reach out, snatching it back from her.

Julian finished inside Ava as the sun began to rise. By 8 a.m. we were up again, fucking in the shower one last time before we had to start cleaning. We scrubbed the house frantically — changing sheets, wiping surfaces, airing out rooms — but the scent of sex lingered faintly no matter what we did. Ava helped, but her touches never stopped. A quick finger in the laundry room. A blowjob for Oliver while I loaded the washer. By early afternoon the house looked almost normal. But we were all still buzzing, bodies marked, eyes full of shared secrets.

“You’re going to ruin my life. I came back to relax and not get worked up.” Sandra smiled against his neck and shoved his sweatpants down, freeing his thick cock. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked firmly. “Then let me ruin it tonight. I need you inside me, William. I’ve been aching for my stepson’s cock all day.” William cursed under his breath. His eyes darkened with lust and desire as he backed her toward the bed. “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” Sandra’s eyes lit up with anticipation. She climbed onto the bed, arching her back and presenting herself to him, the babydoll riding up to expose her bare, dripping pussy.

Complaints, insults, excuses, frustration. “That asshole plays dirty.” “The ref was bought.” “We shouldn’t have lost like that.” I clench my jaw as I read, close the chat without thinking too much because I don’t want to stay there, don’t want to keep going over the same thing, don’t want to think about the game or him, so I set my phone aside and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head, even if it’s just for a while. Tonight I’m only going to do one thing, drink enough to not feel anything and leave early before it all becomes unbearable, no drama, no complications, not giving him more space than he already takes.

I could still hear her laughing as I escaped. Crazy woman. The second I shut my door, I dropped dramatically on my bed and groaned into my pillow. This was a disaster. A complete disaster. My phone buzzed. I rolled over and grabbed it from my nightstand. It was a text from Selene. SELENE — Ashford Dirty Pot just posted a picture of you and Mr. Sexy Psychopath kissing. I zoomed in on the picture. It was clear we were eating each other's faces. But at the same time… it felt real.

She was still a little puffy and sensitive from last night, but so fucking wet that my fingers made obscene squelching noises as I pumped them deep. “Oh shit—Leo!” she gasped against my lips, her hips bucking wildly, riding my hand. Her juices ran down my wrist. “You’re such a dirty little slut,” I growled, curling my fingers to rub that spongy spot inside her while my thumb attacked her swollen clit. “My own stepsister getting finger-fucked in a closet because she can’t stay away from my cock.”