Rapunzel Homecoming Dress Novels & Stories

Kai dropped to his knees, slipping off my heel and resting my foot on his thigh before pressing a slow kiss there. His puppy eyes locked onto mine. He rose, guiding me back onto the bed. I loosened his belt, crossing a line I knew I shouldn’t but I wanted him too much to stop. His hand slid under my dress, pulling at my panties…. I caught his wrist. Our eyes met. “You want me that badly?” I whispered. “Yes,” he breathed, soft but starving. My smile was cold and calculated, my voice low.  “I'll let you have me, if you Will kill your elder brother for me?” *********** Alessa Smith gave him everything, love, loyalty, her fortune. For three years, she stood by her husband Adrian's side, only to watch him throw it all away for the woman he once loved. He felt like she loved him more than her life. Now what he doesn’t know is that the empire he stands on was hers to begin with. She approached his useless stepbrother Kai because of a big lie she told. Kai is a ruthless biker with a big secret. Alessa gives him a contract promising him a better life, as long as he becomes her boytoy and makes her pregnant within a year. She promised to give him everything she gave her husband. But she had no idea that he was her stalker and always imagined himself in bed with her. She was a woman that with no emotions. But she found herself craving her husband's brother. A game she thought she was the controller,  she had no idea when she fell madly in love and couldn't control her craving for her Kai. But she will make Adrain sit and watch his ruins!!!!.

His hand slid beneath my dress, fingers curling around my thighs with a possessive grip. "I always knew that scumbag couldn't treat you right," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips traced a slow path from my jaw to my neck. "Still can't figure out what you ever saw in him." I drew in a shaky breath as his hands moved higher, fingertips brushing the band of my panties, sending a jolt of heat through me. "Women like you are prizes, Sienna," he whispered against my lips, the words melting into my skin. My grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles white. "And prizes? They're meant to be fucking claimed. Owned." In the haze of intoxication, Alexander Grayson looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth—or perhaps he really was. "Can... can you make me forget about Ryatt?" I breathed, my voice trembling. A smirk tugged at his lips, dark and predatory, as his hand slid inside my panties, finding the heat of my wet, aching pussy. A soft moan escaped me, and I clung to him, every nerve alight."I'll make you forget about yourself, flower," with that he crushed his lips to mine. *** From the moment I met Alexander Grayson, I despised him with everything I had. But when with fate's cruel sense of humor he forced his way into my life, everything changed. He was everything I loathed—a womanizer, a violent monster, a spoiled heir with an ego larger than life itself. He should have meant nothing to me. Yet, I learned the truth the hard way: nothing about Alexander Grayson was ever simple. Alex dragged me into the hell he'd created, where he sat as the devil on the throne of darkness And the most terrifying part? I didn’t want to….escape.

If the warning label could be written in red letters, it would. I'm not a soft erotic writer, so you shouldn't be a soft reader. This is a house of 50 Shades Darker Steamy Romance Compilation. ALL your taboos and kinks will be fulfilled in these 1k short stories. First five stories. 1 Marry Your Daddy & Be Your Stepmom: When the thoughts, words, and touch of your boyfriend's dad gives you real orgasms, sinning is just as sweet. 2 My Gangster Masters: Though married, you're sent to the BDSM club to hunt the notorious triplet criminals. The operation is over, but your body still aches to submit to them one more time. 3 The Church Boy Is Gay: He's more innocent than a nerd. Haven't impregnated any girl. So you make him your role model until you're trapped in a room with him and the lights go off. 4 Creampied in a crowded subway: What’s discomfort in a crowded subway when you can have a stranger’s big black cock slide beneath your dress and rub your pussy till you're wet and dripping? It gets spicier, he slips into your right cotton panties and creampies you. And when you wear jeans, his huge palm breaks your button, goes down below, rubbing your clit and finger-fucking you till you become his all your subway journey. Forever. 5 My Masked Psycho: You have a fetish for masked men, and you're just the kind of lady he preys on. Others: Beastly Alpha. Voyeurism. You're a slave to the hot cell's Don and his Capos in a prison break. Stuck and fucked. The Bulgar's cock is your new obsession. Naked stranger in the elevator. Flash your goodies. Your maid and plumber are your new toys. Sex interviews… ***** Add to library let's hit this rocky road.

"Don't deny it. You want it." Killian said to me, stroking the nape of my neck with his thumb. His face is so close to mine and I forgot to breathe. I gasped when he pushed my dress higher, revealing my thighs to him and let his hands rest between my thighs. I tilted my head to the side to avoid his lustful gaze, penetrating deep into my soul. "Your body craves it." He said, firing kisses down my neck till his lips touched my hard, naked nipples. That sent shivers down my spine. My body erupted with goosebumps and I exhaled sharply. I want to speak, but I can't. He has that much effect on me. His tongue played with my nipples and I mewled. That felt so good. "You want me as much as I want you." He whispered with his lips pressed on my skin. I shouldn't be doing this. I know I should stay away from this man but how can I when he invades my thoughts daily? When he's the only one my body wants. It's frustrating because no matter how hard I try, I can't say no to him. And I am this close to making the worst mistake of my life. I swallowed, trying to fathom the words out.His fingers brushed my core and I jerked forward, pressing my body on his. "I don't want you." "You're lying." He said, playing with the strap of my thong with a lazy finger. My eyes rolled back in my socket with pleasure. I am lying but he's making it so hard. "We shouldn't be doing this, Killian." Killian? Do I really have the right to call him that? "Give me one reason why and I won't touch you." "Because you're my best friend's Fiance."

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

My mother is the Royal duchy and I am her sole heir. My mother was once deceived by my father, which nearly bankrupted our family. That bastard father of mine disappeared without a trace, taking the fortune he'd stolen from my mother and running off with his mistress. To prevent me from falling for the same kind of man in the future—to keep me from being fooled and robbed blind—my mother adopted two war orphans. She planned to raise them as potential husband candidates for me. But mother never knew the truth. These two men appeared respectful and obedient to her arrangements on the surface. But privately, they were both infatuated with my maid Josie. They constantly neglected me and made my life difficult, all to win her favor. My favorite, Marcus Reed, even gave up his own last name. He changed it to Josie's—Marcus Thompson. The betrayal cut deeper than I'd expected. Before mother died, she asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Which one do you want to choose as your husband?" But I had heard something interesting lately. There was a mafia heir—Vincent Rossi—who was notorious for his violence. He'd killed innocent people. Years of brutal fighting had left him severely injured. The doctors said he had less than six months to live. The mafia Rossi family wanted to marry him to a noblewoman before he died. I didn't hesitate to reach out to him. I offered an alliance through marriage. To my surprise, the Rossi family agreed. But on my wedding day, Marcus and the other candidate burst into the ceremony. They begged me to reconsider. "Please, don't do this!" Marcus shouted, his face desperate. "You can't marry him!" I stood there in my wedding dress, looking at the two men who had spent years ignoring me for my maid. Now they wanted me back? How interesting.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

“You want this,” Leo murmured, his thumb slowly tracing the nape of my neck. His face hovered dangerously close to mine, so close that I forgot how to breathe. A gasp escaped me when he pushed my dress higher, exposing my thighs as his hands settled between them. I turned my head away, trying to escape the intensity of his gaze, the way it seemed to see straight through me. “Your body says otherwise,” he said softly. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a path of heat behind until they reached my bare chest. The sensation sent a sharp shiver down my spine. Goosebumps erupted across my skin as I inhaled sharply. I tried to speak, but the words refused to come. He had that effect on me. When his tongue brushed and sucked on my nipple, a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. “You’re trembling,” he whispered against my skin. I shouldn’t be here. I should stay away from this man. But he had already worked his way into my thoughts, invading them every single day. My body betrayed me, responding to him in ways I couldn’t control. It was supposed to be one night. I swallowed, forcing the words out as his fingers rubbed my core, making me arch forward instinctively against him. “I don’t want you.” “Interesting,” Leo said lazily, his finger hooking lightly against the strap of my thong. “Because you’re still here.” My eyes fluttered closed as a wave of sensation rushed through me. I was lying, and he knew it. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Leo,” I whispered. He leaned closer, his voice low and steady. “Give me one good reason, and I’ll stop.” “Because… you’re my best friend’s fiancé.”

"A woman like you? No fucking way you're a virgin." "Who said virgins can't be filthy, Rocco?" DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.

Everyone in Palermo knew Alessandro De Luca had a reputation. He was the Boss of the De Luca family, one of the oldest bloodlines in Sicily — a name tied to the port, the courts, and half the construction contracts in Palermo. Wealth, power, discipline—those things were expected. Romance was not. He didn’t chase women, and he never went back to the same one twice. Until me. When we broke up after a brutal argument, he did something no De Luca had done in generations—he stood outside the gates of the Moretti estate, my family home, for an entire day and night. I watched from behind the curtains and never opened the door. The next day, he came inside the estate kitchen himself. Alessandro De Luca, who grew up surrounded by servants, tried to cook my favorite seafood pasta with his own hands. He burned the sauce. I threw it away without tasting it. On the third day, he found the necklace my grandmother had left me—something my uncle had sold years ago—and bought it back, paying far more than it was worth, just to return it to me. At a formal family dinner, in front of elders and allies, he made it clear: No more women. Only me. It took him a year to win me back. That summer, fireworks lit up the Palermo coastline as he announced our engagement. I believed he had chosen me. Until the night of a private gathering at an old harbor estate. A young woman was being pulled forward in the middle of the courtyard, her dress torn at the shoulder, tears running down her face. Alessandro went still. Then he stood up. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t explain. He just walked toward her. And something inside me went cold. I rested my hand over my abdomen. There was something I hadn’t told him yet. He broke his word that night. So I broke mine.