Seduction Books For Men Novels & Stories

“Could you just open the door so I can leave? I don’t want to see you naked. That’s sexual harassment.” “That’s rich coming from someone standing in only her panties and bra,” he fired back. In my rush to leave, I’d completely forgotten that I was holding my clothes instead of wearing them. I hastily put them on, but while buttoning my shirt, I noticed a diamond ring gleaming on my finger. A scream tore from my throat as I tried to pull it off. “Why is this with me? Don’t tell me I stole it while drunk!” I felt his presence behind me before I turned. And no, he wasn’t intimidating because of his size. It was his beauty that scared me. The longer I looked into his eyes, the more I felt drawn

My breath shudders as I try not to give into his seduction. He reaches out, touching my leg under the water, the feeling so real I gasp. "Do you remember how my touch used to make you feel?" A burning need rears up within me, to grab him and pull him toward me. Fight the urge, knowing this isn't real, knowing that I can kiss him in this moment and I will wake tomorrow feeling nothing but regret. "Admit it to me, that you still want me," Marek continues, the firmness in his voice enough to convince me to admit it, to believe it.

"Ahh! Okay, babe, okay! Oh sh*t! Do your best to devour me, ahhhh!" Declan couldn't figure out why he was irritated by the soft voice of the woman he was now in his cabin with. He's at the Exclusive resort, where you can have as much sex as you want, and damn! Declan admitted that he liked what he was doing to the woman whose name he couldn't recall. "Yes, baby. Yes! Yes! All right. Hard! Hard — ahhh," the woman says. He drew away from the girl and quickly unwrapped the condom that had been wrapped around him.

Lanie had definitely responded to him on a physical level. This offered a new option for dealing with the unsuitable girl Josh had dragged home. He might be a little rusty when it came to sex, but it wouldn’t take much to seduce Josh’s fiancée. He didn’t even have to sleep with her. All it would take was revealing her for what she really was. Not that sleeping with her would be a hardship, he conceded. She had a hot little body he could easily imagine sinking into. His cock twitched at the thought, and he shifted restlessly.

I could survive a night with Albert Knowle if it kept Vincent Sario from being in charge. Nodding, I swallow the bad taste in my mouth. "You're going to help me?" "Yes." "Albert knows he repulses me…" I murmur. "How am I supposed to change that?" "Seduction is key," he states. "You need to make him believe he is the object of your insatiable desire." "And if he doesn't want it?" "That's the power of seduction. It isn't a choice of the brain or the heart. It's a manipulation of the body." He steps closer, and I can't pull enough air into my lungs. "Both men and women have visual cues of their arousal."

“Dripping for your manager like a desperate little slut. You gonna come just from me touching you, Ren? That how badly you need it?” “Fuck you…” He squeezed harder. “Answer properly.” “Yes,” I gasped. “I’ve been hard since the second chorus. Kept thinking about you bending me over the nearest surface and stuffing me full while the crowd was still screaming my name.” Marcus made a low, feral sound and dropped to his knees. He didn’t tease. He just opened his mouth and took my cock to the back of his throat in one filthy slide. Hot. Wet. Perfect. I choked on a moan and grabbed his hair, hips stuttering forward.

What I found was a world of explicit, detailed stories about aunts and nephews. Stories of seduction, of secret affairs, of dominant young men and submissive older women. I read one, then another. My face grew hot, my breathing shallow. Without even consciously deciding to, my hand slipped under the waistband of my linen trousers, my fingertips finding my clit, already sensitive from last night. The stories were graphic, filthy, and utterly compelling. They painted pictures of aunts who were initially reluctant but secretly hungry, who were awakened by their nephew's bold desire. They talked about submission, about being called names, about the thrill of the forbidden.

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He laughed and picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him and he carried her from the kitchen with the dinner entirely forgotten and she did not object because she had learned, over the past year, that some things were more important than not burning the onions. In the amber room he laid her down and took his time — his mouth unhurried against her throat, her collarbone, the soft skin of her stomach — and she moved under him with the easy responsiveness of someone who knew exactly where this went and had no interest in rushing to get there. "The book," she said at some point, breathlessly. "Is two hundred and forty pages," he said against her hip. "It can wait." She stopped arguing.

DAMIAN The next day, I changed three times, I wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, certainly not Ethan. But if I was meeting one of Tiffany’s closest male friends the day before our wedding, I wasn’t showing up looking ordinary. I wanted to look like her fiancé, not simply some man she’d agreed to marry. I chose a perfectly fitted charcoal suit, white shirt, with a dark tie, my watch, and a subtle amount of cologne, nothing excessive, but just enough.