Rape Fantasy Novels & Stories

By the time we were done, the bed was soaked, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. I lay between them, chest heaving, pussy throbbing and satisfied but still tingling from the enhancer. Lena kissed my neck softly now, her hand stroking my breast. Mia spooned me from behind, her fingers lazily tracing my hip. "Fuck, Kyra," Mia whispered. "You're perfect. We're not done with you yet." And I knew they weren't, I didn't want them to be. “I want three of us to rub our pussies on eachother.. isn't that thrilling?” Lena whispered.

He grabbed her hair, spanked her breasts, pussy, thighs; and even bit her nipple. He pounded hard and fast and soon they both came. They both were gasping for air. Rhayghar fell on her. His fingers found her tits and massaged them gently before he pinched her nipple, making her moan in pain. Still buried deep in her and throbbing, he lifted his face to hers and kissed her roughly. "That was for running away for the second time from me." He purred. Vera felt him harden inside her again. And before she stopped him from going on for another round— Since she couldn't afford to have marks on her body, lest Fenriz would suspect her— Rhayghar flipped her on her stomach and raised her hips high in t

Craft pushed a button for the top floor, and I held my breath. Him caressing his thumb along mine should have felt soothing, but I was anything but calm. Fantasy Night. I kept picturing shirtless men walking around, flirting, and having an orgy or some other weird kinky shit that I was naïve to being a reality. Was Craft really into that crazy stuff? Guess I was going to find out.

“You’re insane.” Raja chuckled, the sound became darker and mocking. “Oh, I am. And you’ll learn just how far my insanity goes.” He flick his tongue, his gaze raking over Tales like a possession that has already been claimed. “You want a number? Fine. Let’s say… five years. But it won’t just be once, twice or five times a day. No, Tales. You'll kneel and suck my dick like a whore you are. Get on all fours as you take all my cum. By the time we’re done, you’ll have lost count. And you’ll know—every inch of your body, every part of your soul—it all belongs to me.”

Rapha said coolly, dumping his cigar in the silver tray before pushing off the desk and walking toward the bar almost like he’d dismissed the entire conversation. “You paid me for that,” Kade shot him a pointed look. “You don’t get to opt out.” Rapha had, in fact, paid him. Kade had arranged countless dates with models, heiresses, and influencers, all ended the same – Rapha never compromised his fantasies, and those who stayed long enough to beg for more always wanted what he couldn’t give. He sighed a deep, weary exhale like he was being forced to swallow his own pride. Again. He reached for a bottle of Kurayoshi 18-Year he got as a gift from a Japanese diplomat.

he drawls, his voice laced with a teasing lilt. I clench my fists, the knuckles turning white as they press down on the smooth surface of his desk. Leaning forward, I practically snarl, "What the hell were you playing at on Friday night, huh?" Raphael feigns confusion, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes in a parody of innocence. "Playing at? Whatever do you mean? You were the one who had his hands all over her," he says, tapping his finger suggestively against his lips. "Although, come to think of it, I've had my hands on plenty of women myself. Just last night, in fact, I had a woman better looking than Zephyra...."

And finally, Serena could see. She blinked and blinked again, but the vision in front of her never wavered. And oh, what a vision. There Raphael stood, a realization of godlike perfection, naked but for his low-riding jeans. Serena’s eyes skimmed over his abdomen, chest, and arms, his beauty reminding her of Olympian Gods with their bodies sculpted in marble. The way his hair played about his rugged jaw and shoulders made her yearn to feel it brush against her own skin. Just thinking about it produced tingling sensations from the tips of her fingers to the pit of her stomach.

Here's what they said: "Lovely, lonely secretary, our eighteen cocks ache to make your fantasy come true. We are a group of handsome single guys who play soccer together. We work hard and play hard. We will strip you down and cover you in cum. Then we will rape you, repeatedly, until you beg us to stop, but we won't (unless you use the safe word "red light", at which point we will stop immediately.) Unless you safe word out, prepared to be fucked so thoroughly you won't be able to walk straight for days. It will take at least three showers to wash all the cum out of your hair. You will be whipped and degraded for the whore that you long to be, and you will love every minute of the attention.

“Goddess, why can’t men fuck like this in real life?” I peeked down at the cover and recognized the book as one of the Reverse Harem’s I’d given her. This particular one was about a coven of dragon shifters—as if that wasn’t the most fantastical thing I’d ever heard of. “You haven’t been with anyone like that?” “Oh, heaven’s no.” She scoffed, fanning herself with a manicured hand. “The most I’ve ever gotten from the men around here was some dirty talk and a smack or two on the ass. This—this feral, unhinged sex is exactly what I need.”

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.