Smiling Psychopaths Poppy Playtime

Nine years ago, Elena’s fairytale turned into a nightmare. On her eighteenth birthday, her fated mate, the future Alpha Jayden, publicly rejected her and left her for dead. She survived. She built a new life far away, finding love with a protective Alpha named Blake and raising a powerful son, Moses. She buried the past deep—until today. On her birthday, Jayden walks back into her life. He’s holding her son, smiling like he belongs. Old rage and terror surge as Elena slaps the man who destroyed her youth. But Jayden isn't here for a fight. He’s desperate. His mother is dying, and only one healer in the world can save her: Elena. Now, the woman he once tried to kill holds the power to save his family. After Jayden was chased out of the kingdom, Elena realised she made a big mistake, because Moses soon started convulsing and the only source to bring him back was his father Jayden.

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, consensual sex, dirty talks, and adult themes. Intended for readers 18+ only. Desire doesn’t look the same for everyone, and this collection celebrates every intoxicating form it takes. From stolen touches that linger too long, to late-night fantasies that refuse to stay quiet, Naughty Dripping Desires is an unapologetically sensual erotica collection filled with passion, power, and irresistible tension. Each story explores craving, connection, and the delicious loss of control that comes when boundaries blur and bodies answer before minds can catch up. This is an inclusive collection for everyone—curvy queens, chubby goddesses, men loving men, women loving women, and every beautiful way desire shows up. No judgment, just heat… and maybe a few moments where you’ll have to fan yourself and pretend you’re not smiling like you just got caught reading something very, very naughty. Enter at your own risk. Once you start, stopping won’t be easy. So, enjoyyyyyyyyyy.

Three years married to Victor, the Don, and as far as New York was concerned, we were untouchable. Until my own car was in the shop, so I took his daily driver from the garage. On the way, I activated the car's smart system and said, "Navigate home." But the screen pinpointed a place I had never seen before — a villa in the suburbs. Then, a sugary-sweet voice floated from the speakers: "Okay! Setting course for Victor and Mia's secret castle." My stomach dropped. Who was Mia? And what secret castle? Without a second thought, I dialed his number. "The home address is set to some strange place." He just laughed it off. "Oh, that. One of my guys' car broke down the other day. I let him use mine to drop someone off." "Okay, no problem," I said, smiling into the phone. I ended the call and pulled up the navigation history. That villa address was listed seventeen times, every single one on a day Victor was supposedly "out of town on business." I fired up the engine and drove.

The New Year's Day had barely started when my usually unromantic husband, Everett Grant, surprised me by booking a tour for me. The moment I settled into the bus, however, a line of text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Poor Tina! Her jerk husband booked a one-dollar tour for her, and then turns around and drops ten grand taking his mistress overseas.] I froze, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me, and kept chatting with the woman beside me as if nothing had happened. Then the messages showed up again. [Seriously? Tina's still smiling like an idiot. She has no idea this tour is really a trafficking ring. Once they get her to the island, she's done for!] [Oh, no! The bus leaves in three minutes. Is Tina actually gonna die like this? That's such a miserable way to go!] The bus had been quiet until the tour guide suddenly spoke up. "We'll be departing shortly. It's about an hour's ride. After that, we'll transfer to a boat to reach the island."

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  This book is explicitly sexual in some scenes with kinks like foreplay and spanking.Dive in homies let's see if you can handle this spice. The clicking of the door knob meant that he was in. “Did Riley call for you?" Kayla asked the guy who just entered as she scanned him under the dim light,this wasn't what she expected of a call boy,tall, muscular,thin waist,and to die for, that black hair that falls beneath the mask he wore.The messy but insanely handsome dk type with perfectly shaped jawline. “I heard my lady needs my touch" those flirtatious words got her smiling,somehow forgetting her worries as he advanced slowly towards her,inch by inch till he was a face away from her. She felt his hands going through her curves under her lingerie, missed emotions swept through her as she stared at the masked man before her. “SEX ME!" She mouthed as he let out a grin, taking her off her feet to the bed. 10 Nights is more than enough to have you yearning for more my dear readers READ IF YOU DARE

“Your mate will appear at twenty.” Nathan waited years for that moment. For one person. Mikhail. His best friend. His first love. The one he could never have. So when Nathan turns twenty and sees Mikhail walk in with a girlfriend, smiling like nothing ever mattered, he finally lets go of a love he’s held onto since childhood. He drinks. He laughs. He pretends he’s fine. Until the string appears. A burning thread wraps around his wrist—tight, inescapable. And it doesn’t lead to Mikhail. It leads somewhere else. Somewhere worse. Right beneath a half-open door. Valentino. Mikhail’s older brother. The man Nathan has always hated. The man who looks at him like he’s a problem. The man fate has chosen for him. Now bound by a string he can’t ignore—and refuses to accept—Nathan is faced with a cruel truth: What if destiny doesn’t care who you love? What if it ties you to the one person you never wanted? And what happens when the more he tries to cut the string… …the tighter it pulls?

Stanley Hamilton and I were basically Southport's favorite hate-watch couple. For Elodie—my oh-so-perfect adopted sister—he wrecked my company and had my parents thrown in prison. I, in turn, drove Elodie to her death, making him watch as she jumped off a rooftop. Our forced marriage? Just a slow ride from mutual disgust straight into mutual destruction. Then came the car explosion. Stanley, who'd hated me forever, still used his last breath to shove me out of the blast. "Vivienne Weston, one lifetime tangled with you is enough. If there's a next one, let's never meet." He touched the tattoo of Elodie's name on his neck, smiling faintly as the flames took him. After he died, I wandered through life half-dead myself until illness finished the job. When I woke up in the past, staring at two betrothal contracts, I didn't hesitate—I picked the guy everyone swore was insane. Stanley and my dad? I handed them right back to Elodie. This time, I wanted no meetings, no memories, no strings. Ever again.

When the heat wave hit, I was working at the National Weather Service and was the first to spot the climate irregularities. I warned my family to get ready ahead of time. My parents trusted me without question. They even proposed starting a "family survival fund." They told me to use the savings I'd built up since graduating to stock up on supplies, promising that they and my little sister would chip in every dollar they had too. If we were going to make it, we had to stick together as a family. I smiled. "Sure. I'll take care of the plans." That same night, I converted every penny into gold and locked it in a safe. I also went all out into building an apocalypse-proof bunker. When doomsday finally came, they showed up demanding the money we'd pooled together. "Hand over all the gold," they said coldly. "A deadweight like you is just wasting resources by staying alive." Smiling, I tossed them the safe with the gold inside, then sealed the bunker, locking them out completely. Laughing triumphantly, they opened the safe… and stared in shock at what they saw inside.

In my last life, my in-laws "died," and my so-called DINK husband, Eric, begged me to raise his sweet little "brother," Luca. Seven years flew by. That scrawny kid turned into a total cutie and blew up online—pulling in tens of thousands a month. Then one night, boom—Eric's parents came back from the dead. And with them? Tammy. Eric's first love. She clung to Eric with one hand, Luca with the other, all smug as hell. "I've been traveling for seven years. I'm tired. And wow, what a perfect son—thanks for raising him." Eric's parents didn't even pretend to care. "You couldn't give Eric a kid, but at least you were useful this once." "Sign the divorce papers. Make room for Tammy." I walked out of that law firm wrecked—and right into the path of a speeding car. Tammy was behind the wheel, smiling like she won. Next thing I knew, I woke up on the same day Eric's parents had "died."

On the very day I sold my company shares to raise money for my wife’s medical treatment, my phone flashed with a notification about a trending post. "My husband or my lover, which should I choose?" An anonymous reply shot to the top of the comments. "Why choose? I want both." What followed was a casual, shameless confession. A staged car accident right after the wedding, a fake overseas treatment plan, parents who helped maintain the lie, and millions siphoned off under the excuse of life-saving medical fees. The money was never for treatment. It funded luxury vacations, hotel suites, and a long-term affair. Someone asked if she was afraid her husband would find out. Her answer was chilling. "Why would I be afraid? He thinks he took my first time and swore to take responsibility for me forever. He doesn’t know it was just a repair surgery I did for his sake." The post ended with a vacation photo. A woman in a bikini, smiling under the sun. And on her waist, a tattoo with the letters 'NG.' The same tattoo worn by my wife.