Sapphic Thriller Books Novels & Stories

She had a late sociology lab; I was done by one. Friday afternoons were my sanctuary. The only time the house was empty, silent, and completely mine. And I had a ritual. It started a month ago. I'd ordered my first real adult magazine online, discreetly shipped in plain packaging. 'Sinful Nights. It felt like holding contraband. This wasn't the soft-focus suggestive stuff; this was graphic, explicit, a window into a world of unapologetic lust. In our digital age, it felt strangely more intimate, more dangerous, than just pulling up a site.

A slow, wicked smile curved those full, glossy lips as her gaze raked over my trembling body. “Mmm… that’s it, baby girl. Don’t stop now.” My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt dizzy. My fingers kept moving like they belonged to someone else, slick and frantic, shame and heat twisting together until I couldn’t tell which was stronger. What the actual fuck had I just done?

I was completely trapped between them. Marcus held my head down firmly with both hands, using my throat like a fleshlight. Thick strings of drool and throat slime poured out of my stretched lips, dripping down onto the bedsheet. Damien gripped my hips hard and fucked my ass mercilessly, his thick cock rearranging my insides with every savage thrust. The room was filled with wet, filthy sounds of my desperate gagging, the loud slapping of skin on skin, and the low groans of the two men using me like a toy.

“I’d rip those panties off and bury my face between your thighs first. Lick that sweet little pussy until you’re grinding on my tongue. Then I’d flip you over, spread those legs wide, and slam into you deep. You know how tight you get when you’re this desperate.” I moaned loudly, pushing two fingers inside myself. The wet, obscene sound of my arousal filled the quiet room as I pumped them slowly at first, curling them to hit that perfect spot. My hips rocked up to meet my hand, chasing the friction I craved. “Yes… just like that. Your cock is so much bigger than my fingers. I’m fucking myself right now, but it’s not enough. God, Daniel, I’m dripping for you.”

But then I was. “We have to go home, Sister,” Sasha said softly. I didn’t want to go back home. I didn’t want to be alone. Yet, I felt so fucking alone no matter where I was or who I was with. Except for the damn ghosts haunting me. They were in my mind, thriving. Torturing me. And when I slept, my mind revolted. I couldn’t understand my dreams… memories… or paranoia. “You’ll stay with me.” I shook my head wordlessly. I couldn’t let anyone hear my dreams. I couldn’t let anyone know.

1 VIKTOR I lay back, Sabrina nestled beside me, her soft breaths a steady rhythm against the harsh thrum of my thoughts. She was warm, comforting, her scent something that grounded me, but my mind was a different place entirely. It always was. I couldn’t stop the ghosts that haunted me—those women who had tried to kill me, who had thought they could outsmart me, end me. I’d already eliminated them. All of them. The first one, Mia, she came to mind easily.

This was no ordinary ointment it was made to include an aphrodisiac. When Lillie went into the dining room, she placed the ointment on the wound. She then placed the bandage around his finger. She cradled his hand and kissed it. She was attempting to show compassion, loving, tender care to him. Paul’s finger began to burn. He was in pain. A wound from a thorn would never hurt the way it was. She knew the ointment had begun to work. She had the night she hungered for with Paul. He cradled her face in his hand and kissed her. She felt the love was still there between them. He took her by the hand and lead her to the bedroom. He started caressing her body. They took their clothes off and enjoye

“I don’t care if your roommate is home. I don’t care who walks through the courtyard. You’re mine to look at and mine to use.” Lila could only nod, face pressed to the sheets. He pulled out suddenly, rubbed the head of his cock against her asshole, and pushed just the tip inside. The stretch burned. He stayed there, barely in, while his fingers kept working her clit. “One day I’m taking this too,” he said. “Not today. But soon.” He pulled back and thrust into her cunt instead, harder than before. The threat combined with the steady pressure on her clit pushed her over the edge again. She came with a muffled cry, body jerking. Roman followed right after, slamming deep and pulsing inside her.

Hi there lovely readers! Here's a list of my other works you can probably find on certain apps/sites. -*-*-*- 1) Incubus' Blood Harem [male oriented book | W E B N O V E L] 2) Femme Fatale: The Queen Of Chess - Completed. [W E B N O V E L | C H E R E A D S] 3) Sex Delicacies [M O B O R E A D E R] 4) His Wife Is My Lover - Volume one, completed.

Clara Vale lived on the 12th floor of an old, rundown building in downtown São Paulo. At 32, she was the undisputed queen of bestselling erotic romances. Her books sold by the thousands: Fuck Me Until Dawn, where the protagonist was destroyed by a mafioso with a 23-centimeter cock; Fireman’s Dick — the irony of fate hitting hard now — and her most recent one, Emergency Orgasm, which had spent three straight weeks at the top of the charts.