Romantic Porn Stories Novels & Stories

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My father could take as many women as he desired, but they could never take the place of my mother, whom he had murdered. The Moon Goddess gave our mates to us, though some considered her a pesky meddler. My father had been mated to my mother when he was rather young, and they had grown up side by side. My mother, the Lycan Luna, was graceful and submissive to her alpha, never challenging me in public or causing him any reason to be ashamed of her. My mother adored my father and lived her life each day to please him. She was mostly successful until the day tragedy struck.

Then he started moving—long, deep strokes that dragged over Kyle’s prostate with every thrust. Kyle’s hands clutched at his back, nails digging in as Dominic picked up speed. The bed creaked rhythmically. Skin slapped against skin. Sweat slicked their bodies. Dominic hooked Kyle’s legs higher, folding him nearly in half, pounding harder, grinding deep on every downstroke. “This what you wanted? To be used like my personal hole all weekend?” “Yes—fuck, yes. Harder, Dom. Ruin me.” Kyle’s head thrashed against the pillow, mouth open on constant moans. Dominic reached between them, stroking Kyle’s cock in tight, fast pulls, thumb swiping over the leaking head.

I fist his hair, rock my hips, press closer, and tug on him. "Oh damn," he moans, burying his face further between my legs, his tongue doing evil, wicked, and wonderful things to my pussy. “Yes, oh God, yes, Mr. Walker. Eat my pussy.” I remember now that Amber and Jenny said he liked dirty talk, too. Liked telling them how bad they were. And fuck if that isn’t one of the big things that has been a feature in all of my fantasies. “I’m such a bad girl, Mr. Walker. Lick your dirty slut.”

Julian’s face was flushed, lips swollen, a soft whimper still falling from him. “Such a slutty little thing,” Zach murmured, voice rough with lust as he stared straight into my eyes. “Look at you. Pussy clenching around both our cocks just from watching me kiss your other daddy. You love this, don’t you? Love being our little cumslut, stretched and used.” I nodded frantically, another broken moan tearing out of me as they started thrusting again—harder now, the degradation only making everything more intense. “Yes—yes, Daddy, I love it… I’m your slut… please, I need to cum so bad…”

I told him I wasn’t the one begging for distance every time things got real. The motherfucker left the next morning after we fucked for two hours straight and I still wasn’t satisfied. Trust me, the hours weren’t the problem—I just couldn’t get enough of it. He didn't grind my pussy as much as I'd fantasized it. He barely even touched the surface. What a waste! My fourth boyfriend didn’t even give an explanation. He just stopped replying to my messages after a night he called “perfect.” That night barely even beat what my hands could do for themselves. How could he call that ‘perfect’?

The delicate fabric strained against her full breasts, her tiny waist tapering down into thick, curved hips that spilled out over the thin straps of her panties. The moment her dark eyes landed on me, a slow smile spread across her face. She sauntered over with her hips swaying rhythmically, wrapping her soft, bare arms around my neck. "Mmm... you kept me waiting, Hillian," she purred softly, burying her face against the crook of my neck and kissing her way up to my jaw. "And here I thought changing the spot from the lake house to a hotel meant you were getting impatient." Her hands slid down my chest, coming to rest over my lower belly, her warm body pressing flush against mine.

I was speechless on what to say. "Well...I wished I could say the same to you" I lied"when you sleep with you just know it will be considered as rape" "Are you done" he said boringly. "don't worry baby snow when I'm done with you ,rape will be the last thing on your mind. You will begging and withering for more when I take you to new height of pleasure ." he said in a voice which held nothing but promise.

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she breathed, rolled her hips in circles that hit deep. I gripped her ass, thrust up hard, and the bed creaked under us. Sweat slicked our skin, her hair covered my face as she leaned down for a messy kiss. No power games, just perfect match—her gasps hit with my groans, and it built like a wave. She clenched tight, shattered again, and pulled me with her. I came hard, buried deep, vision spotted, and her name rumbled in my chest. We collapsed tangled and panting, her head on my shoulder, and she said, “That was…” She trailed off, traced my tattoos—cheap ink from college days, stories she wanted later.