Spicy Booktok Loungefly Novels & Stories

She said something and even lightly smacked his chest like she was trying to be flirty. He didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just stared. I looked away quickly, back at Leo, who was still explaining his vision for the spa lounge area, but I barely caught any of it. My skin was buzzing under Stephan’s gaze. My chest tight, my throat suddenly dry. God, this site is going to kill me. By the time we wrapped up the site survey, I was starving. Everyone filtered into a shaded outdoor lounge that had been set up with fans and lunch trays. Cold water, rice, grilled seafood, fruit—it actually looked decent for a temporary setup in the middle of a construction zone.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of the lounge. The Luscious Lounge was the kind of place that didn’t have a set theme. Sometimes it was decorated as an open, airy space. Other nights, it transformed into a dim, intimate setting—almost like a place meant for hookups and casual flings. Tonight, it looked even more risqué, with dim red lights and waitresses dressed in bum shorts and bras. As I stepped inside, I quickly spotted Gabriel. He was already there, sipping wine. His desperation clung to him like an unpleasant smell. I smirked, feeling a dark satisfaction.

Chapter 3 Lydia’s POV “If you want me to stop looking at you like this… tell me now,” Julian said, his voice low and rough as he stood there shirtless in the kitchen light. I took another slow sip of wine, my hand trembling just enough that the glass tipped. Red wine spilled across the counter and down the front of my silk robe, soaking through the thin fabric and making it cling to my breasts. My nipples hardened instantly from the cool wet silk. “Shit,” I breathed, setting the glass down fast.

"You think you're the one in control here?" Sloane didn't wait for an answer. She slid down the wall, dropping to her knees on the hard floor. She didn't care about the grit or the cold. She ripped Tatum’s shorts down, exposing the damp heat between her legs. Sloane dove in, her tongue lashing against Tatum’s clit with a fierce, rhythmic intensity.

The girl behind the counter had a nose ring and purple hair, and she lit up at the sight of Tyler. “Lavender iced latte, please. Oat milk,” I said. She glanced down at Tyler, who was sitting like a statue at my heel. “For you, or him?” I grinned. “Definitely me. He’s more of a peanut butter guy.” Drink in hand, I snagged a corner table near the window and let Tyler curl up beside me. He rested his head on my foot like a warm, breathing slipper. I pulled out the latest BookTok darling from my backpack—the one with the cover everyone was blushing over—and flipped to where I’d left off.

I begin to open and close drawers, looking through his shit. I stop at his desk, sit down, and look across the papers. They are all things about his fights, details on his opponent, and his meal plans and stuff. Opening a drawer, I pull out a flyer and stop. Standing from the desk, I walk back to the bed and look at it. Master Lounge. The golden letters are bright against the pitch-black flyer. I look down at the image of a woman gagged with rope around her body as she kneels. A sex-positive BDSM and swingers party.

It's official; I've lost my fucking mind. "Let's go." I took her elbow and was surprised when she didn't pull away right away. My club is called Spice; it has three levels with bar, lounge, and night club. Each floor had textured walls in differing shades of blue, from aqua to midnight blue. There were liquid floors on all three levels. The space had the capacity for three thousand and was usually packed on the weekends with lines around the block. Mouth was sure to do good here if she didn't get herself killed; there are some pretty rough customers who like to hang out in my place.

Business flirting and acquaintance, as what he always described what his real intention was. I must admit, the VIP lounge of this far is a lot better than the other prestigious bars I have explored and hopped on. It was more intimate, cozy, and very comfortable. The interiors were intricately designed in a sophisticated and elegant way, making them appear even more reliable and expensive. The beautifully crafted ceramic tiles were glistening with the reflection coming from the illumination mounted on the ceiling. The bar counters were made of glass, with a professional bartender juggling the bottles of liquors from both hands expertly and confidently. They also have Food Service Areas where

The air smelt of fryer oil, pure soda syrup, and sticky sweat. They took a booth near the back, a little cracked and sticky, but far enough from the noise. The red leather cushions wheezed as they dropped onto the seats and budged into place. Kieran sat on the inside, arms crossed, scanning the laminated menu like it held wisdom. Brock, who was near the window, leaned against the cold window, eyes glazed. Tanaka was already listing his combo out loud to no one in particular: “Burger, double patty, spicy fries, banana milkshake and no cherry." If they put a cherry on it, I swear –"

Flynn gave me rough, harsh licks from my sensitive asshole to my dripping cunt lips. He hooked my fat clit between his lips and sucked like his life depended on it. "You dirty fucker!!!! Oh my fucking god, fuckkkk...." I screamed, moaning more than the best pornstar on earth. Flynn was tongue fucking my hole, eating me out, and moaning into my pussy. Fuck... He was so loud, slurping on every inch. It was too much, my legs couldn't handle it and was trying to close, which earned me a rough slap on my thigh.