Reads Minds Novels & Stories

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, consensual sex, dirty talks, and adult themes. Intended for readers 18+ only. Desire doesn’t look the same for everyone, and this collection celebrates every intoxicating form it takes. From stolen touches that linger too long, to late-night fantasies that refuse to stay quiet, Naughty Dripping Desires is an unapologetically sensual erotica collection filled with passion, power, and irresistible tension. Each story explores craving, connection, and the delicious loss of control that comes when boundaries blur and bodies answer before minds can catch up. This is an inclusive collection for everyone—curvy queens, chubby goddesses, men loving men, women loving women, and every beautiful way desire shows up. No judgment, just heat… and maybe a few moments where you’ll have to fan yourself and pretend you’re not smiling like you just got caught reading something very, very naughty. Enter at your own risk. Once you start, stopping won’t be easy. So, enjoyyyyyyyyyy.

To the world, he's the enigmatic Capo of the Chicago Outfit, a man of power, control, and unwavering resolve. He's sculpted his life meticulously, sticking to a code that demands order. Yet, sometimes, even the most disciplined minds can be led astray. Claire “Cindy” Parker is the life of every party, a vivacious burst of sunshine that lights up any room. She's the dance-off initiator, karaoke microphone grabber, and the queen of themed costume parties. But beneath her party-loving spirit, Cindy hides a well of pain and dark memories, mastering the art of masking her inner pain with humor and charm. When these two collide, sparks don't fly; instead, it's like a showdown from an old Western, and shots are fired, both literally and metaphorically. Their personalities are oil and water, refusing to mix, igniting heated arguments that often lead to explosive situations. Yet, beneath the surface tension, an undeniable attraction simmers, their paths destined to intertwine. Slowly but surely, they begin to unravel each other's layers, exposing vulnerabilities they've long kept hidden.

When he and his father eventually decide to begin a new life after his mom and sister's death, Praxis Cohen, a suicidal teenager with an expressionless visage on his face, finds himself in a huge, formidable laboratory where teenagers like him are being injected a drug of which the effect is still unknown. Fortunate enough, his body can withstand the drug that leads him to be declared by Dr. Conscire as the first patient to have successfully passed the First Stage of the experiment in this generation. As he proceeds to the Second Stage, Dr. Conscire, the president of the organization, decides to release him off the laboratory to find out that the effect of the drug enables him to read minds and do psychokinesis that sets his mind into chaos. In his debacle as an experimented guinea pig of the nameless organization, realizing that he is not alone in this experiment, Praxis meets new marvelous people to discover the origin of the experiment, the reason why they turned into supernormal beings, the connection of this experiment to the unborn world war in the future, the twists and turns of their past stories, and to discern the next stages of the experiment. With the collaborative effort of their team, they strive to choose the best course of action to put an end to this fight.

After my wife, Shannon Stewart, suggests that we each support our own parents, I set up a million-dollar retirement fund for my dad. However, when I review this month's household expenses, I notice that every single payment is made for the father of Sean Gardner, her childhood friend. "Sean's family is struggling. Why wouldn't I help them out? It's not like it's a lot of money." Shannon brushes it off. There are 13 separate expenses of around 100 dollars each in a single month. Yet when my dad needs 300 for medical bills, she prints out the receipt and tells me to reimburse the household account. Tired of arguing, I toss the statement aside and head inside. Then my dad's condition suddenly worsens, and he's hospitalized again. I rush to the bank to withdraw money from the retirement fund. "Your father isn't the beneficiary of this fund," the bank employee states coldly. "Are you sure you have the right account?" My mind goes blank. How is that possible? Every cent in that account is my hard-earned cash. The employee impatiently turns the computer monitor toward me. The account name on the screen clearly reads, "James Gardner's Retirement Fund." James is Sean's dad.

At my mom's funeral, my lecturer wife, Vivian Carter, decides to have a rendezvous with her student, Noah Myers, with ten packs of condoms in her bag. Once they are done with their passionate lovemaking, Noah uploads a photo to his social media feed. It features a red-faced Vivian lying on his bed. Meanwhile, the clothes of mourning that she's worn to the funeral are strewn all over the floor. The caption reads, "The only who's not loved is the actual homewrecker here. My relationship has finally borne fruit!" His feed goes wild with comments. Everyone mocks me for being a shameless simp for Vivian, and that I've been ruining Noah's relationship with her this whole time. My mentor, Avery Sanders, is sick with worry. But I, on the other hand, merely brew myself a cup of coffee. Then, I say lightly, "Since he likes uploading his intimate photos that much, I might as well upload photos of his and Vivian's bastard child as well as their paternity tests. Here's the caption—I, the legal husband, am now defending my pride as a married man. "Now, I'd like to see if Noah and Vivian are capable of bearing the consequences of pissing off my prestigious and wealthy family!"

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

A young psychologist, Maria Reyes, fresh out of college, decides to take her first freelance case to build her résumé. Feeling bold and free on her graduation night, she let herself loose after getting charmed by an alluring mysterious man. One drink leads to another and another, and she finds herself drowning in passion in his bed. She reads him like a map and falls for his scars before she even asks for his name. But the morning brings the brutal truth, Darian Wolfe is her father's enemy, a ruthless businessman, an heir to the empire sworn to destroy her father's legacy. She vanishes before he wakes, unable to face what has been done. Weeks later after being able to set up her new office, the past begins to blur until her first patient walks through the door. It's him, Darian Wolfe. Her expression freezes when she sees him. He walks around her office uninvited. He takes a seat without a word. The silence between them is thick with everything unsaid. And then, he looks unblinking in her eyes. "I have a lot to... unpack, Dr Reyes," he says, with a dark smile. "Let's start with a woman I met two weeks ago at a bar," he says, pulling out a red panty from his pocket.

The healer told me I had Soul Decay Syndrome. In three days, I'd be dead. The only thing that could save me was water from the Sacred Spring. But my Alpha mate, Vincent, gave it to my adopted sister, Fiona. So, during the final 72 hours of my life, I gave up everything. When I handed Fiona the perfume formulas I'd spent years developing, my parents smiled in satisfaction. When I gave up the couples' vacation package I'd won and let Vincent take Fiona to see the Northern Lights instead, he praised me for finally being mature. When I taught my daughter to call Fiona "Mom", she didn't hesitate. She turned to me without a second thought and called me "Aunt." To my family, all my sacrifices were only natural. "Fiona is a frail human. Her lifespan is much shorter." "We'll love you properly later. We'll make it up to you." I let out a mocking laugh. There was no later for me. I'd never live long enough to receive their love. And after I died, they lost their minds with regret.

A centuries old tale of a woman who grants wishes to lonely souls haunts the mind of the new generation. Charlie Peddington is a broke, aspiring writer who wishes to write and publish her very first novel that would blow the minds of every reader she could imagine. She spends her time struggling in between master classes and in being a ghost writer to any student needing her service. As part of her final project, she's tasked to write the most out of this world story she could ever come up, with the possibility of being introduced to a well-known publisher courtesy of her mentor. But how does she make her story excel amongst the new generation of creators? Until an unfortunate event brought her to the life of a mysterious woman who rescued her one night. Her curiosity got the best of her, that when she learned of her identity, she realizes she could no longer turn her back against the things that she is about to discover. How will she fare against a half jinni, half witch who has lived for hundreds of centuries filled with the most out of this world stories she can ever imagine?

The adopted younger sister claimed to be suffering from depression. To make her feel better, my parents hung me on the cliff, as if I were a kite. Servant reminded my parents that the little tree to which I was hung was fragile, leaving me in danger. My mom, Luna of the pack, replied scoffingly: "She makes Laurel sleep panic. She deserves to be treated like this. If she dies, it's her fate." My older brother, Zayn, joked by her side, saying: "It's a good chance to record how long werewolves live when they do not conduct feeding activities. We can contribute a lot to the Werewolf Council with this precious data." Even my mate, Greyson, showed an attitude of stoniness, uttering: "She is a vicious she-wolf. If she were not educated well enough before her transformation ritual, she would cause greater trouble to others." They left me alone on the cliff after saying these words. Three days later, it finally crossed their minds that I was still hanging. When they finally arrived at the cliff, they found nothing but emptiness—because I had already died long before. And when they realized the truth, they howled in agony, begging for me to come back to life. But I was long gone.