Soaked Thong Novels & Stories

She was born a mafia heiress. Trained to lead. Destined to destroy anyone who stood in her way. But she never expected him… Fiorella D’Angelo has always been the sharpest weapon in her father’s arsenal—fierce, fearless, and raised to inherit an empire. When betrayal strikes from within, everything she believed about loyalty shatters. And the man demanding her compliance? Rocco De Luca—the most ruthless son of a rival mafia family, known for breaking rules, bones, and hearts. What starts as an arrangement built on vengeance, power plays, and buried family secrets quickly ignites into something neither of them can control. In a world soaked with blood, loyalty, and vendettas, love is the most dangerous game of all. But when enemies close in and war explodes around them, Fiorella and Rocco must decide: will they burn the world down for each other… or will it bury them both? The Mafia’s Flower is a gripping, slow-burn dark mafia romance packed with deadly obsession, tortured enemies-to-lovers tension, heart-pounding cliffhangers, and a heroine who never needs saving—but still chooses love. One empire. One queen. One man who would kill the world to protect her. Ready to enter their world?

“You want to be cleansed?” his voice was rough, dangerous. “Then let me drag every filthy sin out of you.” His hand slid higher, shoving her dress up to her hips. She whimpered when his fingers pressed against the thin lace hiding her heat already soaked through. “On your knees, begging for forgiveness, and dripping for me,” he muttered darkly. “Do you feel how wet you are? That’s not holy. That’s you wanting to be fucked.” Two fingers pushed past the lace, plunging inside her slick heat. Her moan broke in the stillness, echoing in a place that should have been sacred. Shame burned her cheeks, but her hips rocked helplessly against his hand, clenching around every thrust as if she’d been waiting for this sin all along. These are chances to watch good girls give in, bad girls take control, and men break every rule to have them. Stepbrothers, bosses, best friend’s fathers, priests, professors, dangerous strangers each story pushes the line between resistance and surrender. Dirty, addictive, and impossible to put down, this mature collection will leave you wet, aching, and hungry for more.

The day Noelle Rutherford finds out she's pregnant, she braves the rain to go to a club that Chester Gray frequents. She stands outside a private room and pats her soaked hair dry with some tissues, wanting to surprise him when his get-together ends. Through the ajar door, she hears laughter. "Chester, your wedding to Noelle is in a week. Is your surprise for her ready?" "Of course," Chester says, his usually cool voice laced with tipsiness. "I'll make it a memory she'll never forget." Noelle pauses, and her lips curve upward in a sweet smile. Throughout her three years with Chester, he has truly cherished her like a treasure and loved her with all his heart. "Ha! Do you think she'll have a meltdown and lose her mind on the big day when she finds out I've been toying with her while pretending to be you this whole time?" Someone laughed. "She'd never in her wildest dreams imagine that Chester has an identical twin brother! When she finds out her boyfriend's brother has been playing her for three years…"

He was supposed to be a fantasy. A younger man with a filthy mouth and a dangerous smile. But when Aria lied about her age, she didn’t expect Logan to show up at her door—with a hard-on, a temper, and a past soaked in blood. Aria Monroe is rich, powerful, and lonely. At thirty-eight, she’s tired of fake friends, shallow men, and pretending she doesn’t crave something real. On a whim, she uploads a younger photo to a dating app… and gets matched with Logan Reed—a cocky, ex-military heartthrob ten years her junior. Their connection? Instant. Addictive. Dangerous. But when Logan finds out she lied, he doesn’t walk away. He comes closer. He kisses her like a punishment. He fucks her like revenge. And when threats begin circling her life like vultures, Logan turns savage. He’ll kill for her. Bleed for her. Burn down her world to keep her. Even if she fights him every step of the way. Age means nothing when obsession takes over. But Aria's secrets run deeper than her lies… And Logan’s darkness? It’s just beginning.

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.

He calls himself my guardian. But I want him to call me a good girl. I moved in after my mother died. He opened the door — broad chest, deep voice, eyes that stalled when they dropped to my tits. He tried to be decent. Tried to be safe. But I’ve been wet for him since day one. He’s twice my age. Raised my half-sister. Taught her to say “Dad” like it was gospel. But I know what she really wants. I see the way she watches him. The way she watches me when I bend over the kitchen counter, tank top riding up, no bra in sight. This house is full of secrets, soaked sheets, and girls who know better. He pretends not to want it. She pretends she’s not touching herself at night. And me? I leave the door open and let them both fall apart. Because I don’t want to be loved. I want to be used. Ruined. Claimed in every room until they forget who’s the daughter, who’s the guest, and who’s in charge. He raised her. He took me in. But — who’s he going to fuck first?

Tonight Daddy said he was going out with Auntie Benita, and Mommy didn’t fight him about it. She had a handkerchief balled up in her hand, soaked through with the blood she kept coughing up. I knew Mommy was going to heaven soon. That was how Grandpa told me it would be, back when Grandma coughed up blood like this. Daddy looked at Mommy, narrowed his eyes, and his voice went cold. “Isa needs a whole family. A smart woman learns to look the other way.” Mommy didn’t shield me and argue back the way she used to. She just said, softly, “Fine. I’ll charge by the visit. Every night you spend with her is one million.” Daddy laughed and wired her the money. After that night, Daddy went out a lot, and every time, Mommy reminded him to send the money. Mommy got so thin that her cheeks caved in, but her eyes were still bright. She took me lots of places, introduced me to lots of people, and made me write my own name over and over. She said she was going to leave everything to me. I held her tight. “I don’t want your things, Mommy. I just want you.”

He was supposed to marry a woman. He ended up addicted to a man he tried to destroy. Kyren De Santos is the crown prince of a brutal mafia dynasty, filthy rich, devastatingly cold, and born to obey. His father rules with violence and expects absolute loyalty, including marrying Anna, the perfect mafia princess. But on his birthday, one drunken mistake threatens to unravel everything. Alastair, a soft-spoken waiter with too many dreams and too little love, offers Kyren a night of comfort he didn’t ask for and a connection he can’t stop craving. What begins in the shadows of a nightclub bathroom spirals into a toxic obsession. Kyren hates how much he needs Alastair. So he does what he’s been taught to do: punish what he loves. Until the night Kyren chooses his father’s approval over Alastair’s life. But monsters always come back. When Kyren returns, darker and deadlier than before, love is no longer enough. There’s blood on their hands. A wife in the picture. And a father who wants Alastair erased forever. In a world of lies, lust, and legacy… Will Kyren kill for love… or will he let it die? Dark, Obsessive and Queer. “The Devil you Made me” is a Mafia MM Romance soaked in betrayal, redemption, and a love so violent it might ruin them both.

“Call me Daddy. I tell you what to do and you fucking listen. When I order you to spread your legs, you go the widest you can, you show me the depths of your pussy. When I order you to stab your soaked, dripping pussy with three of your fingers, you look me dead in the eyes and do it. When I order you to call me daddy, you open your mouth and call me daddy, because I'm your fucking daddy, baby girl. You obey, you follow orders, and you get rewards and treats from sugar daddy, my sugar baby.” When Daddy tells you to pick up this book, listen. Obey like the depraved slut that you are. Obey with your dry pussy and watch it soak and ruin your panties, your sheets, your damn life. Default and lose your treats, rewards and your orgasm, you unsatisfied reader. I dare you to remain the same after experiencing daddy. …… Note: There's no limit. None. Dane Wright. Don't worry, he doesn't need your forgiveness or the face of disgust you'll make. He would unfortunately rather die, than leave his business partner's daughter alone.

“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —” “This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy. The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat. A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight. He seated it fully, the cool silver pressing against her deepest parts. He held it there, letting her feel the full, impossible intrusion. Her body fought it, spasming around the unyielding object, which only made the sensation more brutal, more specific. She was panting, her tears soaking the linen, her entire universe reduced to the cold metal splitting her open. “Now,” Mark said, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her. His hand remained on the handle, not moving it yet. “You will stay just like this. And you will finish your dinner.” ..... Enter a world of passion, pleasure, and desire with “Steamy Encounters."