Science Fiction Short Story Collections Novels & Stories

There was space for three desks arranged in a rough triangle, a comfortable reading area where participants could relax between sessions, and a coffee maker that Sienna brought from her apartment because the regular lab coffee was "unfit for human consumption." They fell into patterns. Marcus usually arrived first, around 6 AM, and had the coffee brewing and the schedule reviewed by 7 AM. Ava came in around 7:30, usually with pastries from the bakery two blocks away. Sienna arrived last, around 8, and the real work began.

Chapter 1 Sophia’s POV. I sat hunched over my textbooks in the dim glow of the empty college library wing, the pages blurring together after hours of cramming advanced lit theory into my skull while the whole building around me felt dead quiet and hollow. My thighs kept pressing together under the desk because my mind would not stay on the damn words no matter how hard I tried. Instead it kept sliding straight into that filthy secret place I hid from everyone, the one where I was not the quiet bookish girl who buried herself in notes all day.

They stayed joined together, breathing heavily. He kissed her forehead tenderly, still buried inside her. “Lesson one is complete. Next week, my apartment. No panties allowed. And bring your journal you’ll write exactly how it felt while I fuck you again.” Lila shivered, feeling his cum leak down her thighs. “This is still so wrong… but I already can’t wait for the next lesson.” “Miss Moreau, the library closes in twenty minutes. Meet me in the restricted Victorian literature section. Back corner. Now.”

He just hoped that this was the start of something new, not the end of a potential good relationship… THE END AUTHOR'S NOTE. Hello lovelies. I trust you guys are doing great. So, I decided to finally start this project after putting it off for a year now. This is like a collection of my readers' suggestions and stories. You tell me what you want as the next story, and I write the prompt of the lucky person. So far, I have 20 prompts from my readers from platforms, 19 when you exclude the already uploaded one. Updates for this series will be twice or thrice a week, with a full upload of a story, not chapter-by-chapter updates, depending on my school schedules.

Cora’s POV. It's been just three hours since my parents left the house and I was already spiraling with different thoughts. Ace was seated on a couch across from me, his eyes focused on his laptop while I struggled to focus on the book I was reading. Not to mention the fact that it was an erotic book. One that was specifically a forbidden romance, just like my predicament. Ace raised his head, and I quickly dropped my gaze to the book in my hand, adjusting my reading glasses.

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BEFORE YOU READ Nobody is coming to save you. Themes: Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Size Difference, Breeding Kink. This story features a possessive, reclusive hero who hasn't seen a woman in years. Expect primal play, rough sex, and intense possessiveness. (***) Gabrielle

Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

Instead, she spotted a battered cardboard box, which she pulled out by one of its flaps. The box was filled with books similar to the one she found on the floor—tattered and yellowing, adorned with somewhat cheesy cover art. Except for a few classics by authors like Verne and Wells, most of them fell into the sci-fi genre. Cole admitted to losing interest in this type of literature after a few pages of convoluted descriptions. However, she recognized some of the titles because she had been repeatedly told that she should read them: Asimov, Russ, Vonarburg, Bradbury, Heinlein, Bujold, Engh, Le Guin.

he says and I shake my head, refusing his threats. “Or…” he says and takes his hands completely off of me. He opens the book and flip through slowly, his fingers teasing the edge of the white pages the way I wish he would tease my hard nipples. I press my legs together, looking for a way to keep down my lust and the crazy thoughts as a drop of juice slides out of my pussy lips into the lady panties I have on. “Or…” he says again and runs his finger down the page of my last writing. Tomorrow morning is Christmas morning.