Sexy Women Stories Novels & Stories

“Push my cum out, baby. Let me see that creamy mess.” Later, he carried her to the private outdoor hot tub overlooking the lake. Steam rose around them as he sat her on his lap, impaling her on his cock again. They fucked slowly at first under the stars, then harder, water splashing everywhere. Kane bit her neck, leaving fresh hickeys. “Everyone at university wishes they could have you… but you’re my secret whore.” Lila rode him desperately, tits bouncing in his face. He sucked hard on her nipples while thrusting up. She came again, soaking his cock. Kane followed, filling her once more.

She sucked me deep, her throat working as she took as much as she could, the wet, sliding sounds filling the quiet office. The way her lips gripped me, the friction of her tongue—it was a sensory overload that made the very air in the room feel like it was vibrating. I watched her, the way her cheeks hollowed, the way she seemed to worship every inch of me with a hunger that matched my own. She was a natural, a complete slut for the sensation, and it was driving me over the edge. Every time she looked up, her gaze was a challenge, a silent demand for me to stop being the authority figure and start being the animal she craved.

He grinned, but his eyes were hungry now, roaming over my legs, my cleavage, the way my dress had ridden up slightly on my thighs. "But it has its perks. Like meeting beautiful, needy women in elevators… and wondering how wet they already are just from talking to me." Heat crept into my cheeks and between my legs. "Is that your move? Rescue sad women with comfort food?" "Only the beautiful ones who look like they need to be fucked senseless until they forget their ex’s name." The words hung in the air between us, filthy and direct. My heart kicked hard against my ribs and my pussy clenched, a fresh gush of wetness soaking my panties.

The e-mail showed that Selena was Googling pornographic websites - specifically sites which catalogued and stored sex stories. As he checked the screenshots and the text which was being typed into the search bar, he found that she was looking for stories which dealt with S&M, dominance and submission, bondage and humiliation. The next e-mail had a screenshot of the story that she was apparently reading, since the next several e-mails all had screenshots of the same story, just pages later.

The thought made her even wetter. Viktor stripped off his jacket and shirt. His muscular, tattooed body looked dangerous in the red light. He freed his thick cock and rubbed it against her entrance. “They’re watching you,” he said, voice low. “They can see how desperate you are for my cock. How wet you get for The Wicked.” He pushed inside her in one deep thrust. Aliyah moaned loudly. He fucked her hard and fast, hips slamming against her. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room. He gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, pounding deep.

When had she last let her fingers slip under her waistband and into her panties? He roughly pushed her neat gray skirt to her hips, groaned when he felt she was wearing stockings and suspenders. “Noir,” he smiled at her. “Femme fatale.” No, she wasn’t. She was the good girl. The secretary in the pale pink sweater. The gal Friday the detective always treated like one of the guys, never seeing the sex appeal beneath the prim, petal twin set. Why did the good girls always have to finish last?

I leaned back against the smooth, cool marble edge while my hand slid between my legs almost immediately, fingers parting my swollen folds as I let out a shaky breath. I was still soaked, a humiliating mix of my own arousal and Richard’s pathetic load. I opened the hidden browser on my phone, the one I kept password-protected, and went straight to my favorite BDSM site. My fingers trembled with need as I typed in the search bar: “dominant muscular man ruins married woman.” The video loaded. It was exactly what I needed tonight.

I want his strong hands pinning my wrists above my head while he fucks every innocent thought out of my head in deep, punishing strokes with no protection and just raw, feral Alpha claiming. The back seat of the cab feels like a sauna of my own making. Every bump in the road sends jolts of friction against my swollen clit through the thin fabric of my sundress. I’m not wearing a bra, and my nipples are so hard they ache against the soft white material. My lace panties are completely ruined—drenched with moisture that keeps leaking down my thighs no matter how tightly I press my legs together.

For a moment, Tatum was breathless, completely undone by the woman she claimed to despise. But the power dynamic shifted quickly. Tatum reached down, grabbed Sloane by the hair, and hauled her back up to a standing position. She shoved Sloane against the lockers, the metal clanging loudly. "My turn," Tatum whispered. Tatum reached into Sloane’s pants, her fingers finding the drenched center of Sloane’s pussy. She didn't tease. She drove two fingers inside with a rough, demanding motion. Sloane let out a muffled curse, her head hitting the locker behind her. Tatum worked her fingers with a brutal efficiency, rubbing the clit and pumping deep inside at the same time.

A world filled with stories that feel dangerous, emotional, addictive, messy, sexy, heartbreaking and impossible to put down. And honestly? I think this might become my favorite era as a writer yet. So please support Claiming His Bride (Sinful Collection) the same way you’ve supported Wet Dreams even before the copycats. Make sure to add it to your libraries, leave comments, scream at me when I traumatize your favorite characters, and come lose your sanity with me 😭🖤 We’re just getting started and I promise you am giving you all the best version of writing you’ve never seen. I know we started wet dreams a little messy and rough around the edges but this one this one will be the best one ye