Sadistic Beauty Yuri Novels & Stories

That meant she must be an elite fighter. However, up until that point, she made no move to seduce Dorian despite her shapely body and attractive allure. None of her words, techniques, or aura indicated this. This was nothing like a succubus. Yuria was more like a female warrior who had experienced hundreds of fights. Her elegance was more similar to a leopard. "My name is Dorian Weaver. Pleased to meet you." Dorian gave her a salute with a grim look on his face.

Only those who are ready to sell their soul for discretion are allowed in. At the center of the room, a man with perfect muscles and fat ass moved around the pole with smooth control. His almost naked body spun around the pole as he blended with the slow music. Stygian himself watched the guy as he moved with slow and practiced confidence. Sitting carelessly on the velvet sofa, nothing concerned him with the dude between his legs, sucking his cock. His focus was on the stage because that was where all the pleasure came from. Some of his acquaintances sat on other sofas, close enough to see the stage but far enough to distance themselves from Derek Stygian’s sin, as they usually call it.

In my pursuit of excitement, I lay on the bed with my legs open, frantically pleasuring myself in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the dark glass, I could see a strong man on the balcony opposite staring at my body intently. This extreme taboo made my scalp numb, and I grew increasingly depraved. I tried my best to arch my back as I became a shameless, irrational, and thrill-seeking tart. My name was Layla Terra, and I was a dance student.

I could see her pussy all wet from our fucking and I put my fingers inside of her. Her hips arched upwards and she cried out with her pleasure. I explored her pussy with my fingers till she came again. Kate was gorgeous; her pussy was clean-shaven and beautiful to me. I got closer and lowered my head to her wet juicy pussy. I licked those pink lips and sucked her clit till she cried out loud and came in my face. She tasted so sweet to me, unlike anything I had ever tasted before.

"My good sweet vixen." If anyone ever told me that I, Lilith Russo would be reduced to a plaything before the very man whose existence I very much detest, I never would have believed but here I am, at his mercy like the same woman I have struggled never to be. It is at the point my senses seemed to kickstart and without thinking I bared my teeth and clamped it hard on his member and then I looked up at his devastatingly handsome face which is now a mirror of a pained enraged expression and I smirked.

And I'm continuously finding myself in the position were my body starts to unwilling lust after them. It's very odd, but the more I'm around these type of people the more I start to enjoy it. I've never been one to like the bad guys, I go more for the respectable gentleman. But I don't know, something about how everyone is their own mystery and everything is unexpected has me so intrigued. Yes I am absolutely scared for my life and I'm aware that it could end at any given moment, but knowing that, pumps something through my veins that I slightly enjoy. It makes me feel like a dangerous woman...or an endangered woman.

"Wha- what-- what do you want, M-Matty?" "I want you to pick, slut." "What-- ah-- tell me-- which is which--!" I withdrew my fingers and pulled her roughly to her knees. "Bad girls get their asses fucked." Leaning over her back, I whispered into her ear, "And good girls beg for it."

Who knew revenge would be so satisfying in every way? Surrounded by music pulsing so loud that the walls shook, Morgan made her way up the club’s narrow stairs, following Alyssa, the blonde who apparently owned Sexy Sirens. Morgan had no idea how anyone with decent vision would ever mistake her for the stripper, no matter how much makeup she slathered on. Alyssa had an ingrained sexuality that just about every woman wished for…and so few possessed. Still, Morgan knew she had to try, put on her best act until she could escape Lafayette and the psycho hunting her. The only alternative was death.

No one calls my girl a bitch. Not ever. My hand shoots out and grabs onto one of her fake nails. I twist and rip. The nail gives way, the real one underneath coming with it. The blood wells up, hot and fast. Her scream pierces the air, high pitched and perfect. It's funny that tears irritate me but screams are like music. Music that fuels that dark pulse inside me. I watch her panic, drinking it in. Every note of her agony is a symphony and I am the conductor.

Forgetting about the situation that was happening currently I was snapped back to reality when I see him lunge at the grey wolf that was chasing me, they snarl and tear into one another; his claws tear into the side of the grey wolf who lets out a howl from the injury that was just inflicted onto his torso. Whimpers are to be heard as the grey wolf backs away from the black wolf and stares at me as he growls and snaps his jaw, within a second the grey wolfs retreat back to the forsaken territory as they take off running in retreat from the attack that was inflicted onto them, sighing in relief my arms collapse under me as I stare up at the sky laughing in relief of being able to live another