Spiderman Fingertips

Some pleasures are better read than witnessed. The yearning,the love making and the after care are better off when flipping through pages. The emotions are felt through accumulation of words and wild thoughts that would make your libido skyrocket and leave your body shaking, wanting more and more. Your fingertips bleeding, because it cannot stop flipping pages, and your eyes bawling out, because they cannot stop reading, whether it is a forbidden affair with a bride or a mafia lord who cannot just get enough of his slave. A collection of hundred stories, ten parts each and different narratives to fill up your wet dreams and warm up your skin. WARNING: This collection does not hold back on anything. Everything is raw and unfiltered from the intense lust from kissing to the mind blowing dripping orgasms gotten from impounding and fulfilling fantasies.

"I'm being f..framed," she stuttered. The fear that gripped her heart in a vice clutch was immense. "Stubborn as f*ck!" He growled as his baritone voice boomed. His obsidian eyes met her fear-filled ones and her stomach churned in raw trepidation. "I s..swear, I...I.. didn't..." Her mind was in the chaos of terror. But just being in the presence of this barbaric man had her heart lurching to her mouth. "Your lies are only fueling my rage, woman." He bellowed, causing her to flinch. She stopped breathing in sheer horror as he prowled towards her like a beast. There was madness in his eyes. He roughly grabbed her jaw, his fingertips digging into her fluffy cheeks causing her lips to pucker out. His dark gaze illicitly roved her body; the unadulterated lust in his eyes... 18+

He tilted his head. His olive eyes drank in her features. The way her eyes fluttered, her lips parted slightly in shock at his sudden change in demeanor. "I want you," He rasped, voice rough.  "Huh?" She blinked. Her eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. She was taking too much time to consume what was happening. He gripped her jaw, his fingertips digging into her cheeks firmly as he jerked her face up, her lips puckered out due to his hold. "I want you," He husked and it was like her heart ceased to beat just for a second before it began to wildly thunder in her chest. "Oh," was all she was able to say. Her plump lips formed a small 'O' and with a low growl, his lips came crashing down on hers. **** Broken Alpha Innocent girl Slow burn Love Warning: Violence. Abuse. Broken Alpha Innocent girl Slow burn Love Warning: Violence. Abuse.

#R18 She does nothing but melts at his touch, crave for every inch of his shaft. His fingertips are like magic, trailing her soft skin like ushers of the wind. It's hard to resist his touch and when he thrusts in her? She doesn't want him to stop. **** Amelia's life spiraled into misery when she got caught in the webs of slavery by the ruthless mafia Don, Alessandro DeMarco. As a punishment for trying to infiltrate his mafia organisation, he made her his slave and she was bound to work for him forever. Amelia struggled with the pain of betrayal and mistrust. Her boyfriend, who claimed to love her led her into the webs of destruction and even betrayed her when he ought to stand in for her. Amelia accepted her fate and agreed to work for the Don but as she continued to work for him as a loyal servant, she remained his assets; one bound forever to the Deadly mafia Don. What happens when love trips in? Will Alessandro be able to control his feelings for her? Will Amelia suppress the urge to keep spreading her legs for the Mafia Don as he always made her wet!

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

Two years since her last job as a nanny, Willow is lost at sea without a proper job. Being broke and living off the streets of Florida was never on her to do list and she is never planning on doing so, that's why when she received an email the next morning for an interview with Lorenzo Moretti, the richest businessman and a single father in the business world, she didn't think twice before showing up. Lorenzo is calm and quiet, too much of a professional himself, maybe that's why Willow never expected him to be a part of the mafia. Too much going on in her head, his children, her problems, his secrets and the very thick tension between them, there's just too many obstacles in the way of her profession. ****** “And you seemed busy up here, that's why I didn't want to disturb you.” I told him. He pulls me close, my hands grip the ends of his shirt to steady myself. I could feel every movement of his fingertips at the sides of my waist. I almost melted away when he placed a featherlike kiss at the base of my neck. “I would let you disturb me, Willow.”

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

I misbehaved. My knees ached from being planted on the aggressively cold floor for so long, but I would take the pain for as long as possible, if it meant gaining the Devil's forgiveness. I whimpered helplessly as the beast of a man pierced me with his cold eyes, ever so subtly patting his strong thigh twice. "D-daddy please-" My pleas were unfinished and went unheard as he continued to pick up the black paddle from his desk and roll up his sleeves. "Don't waste my time, angel." He muttered gruffly, the depth of his well matured voice making every fibre of my being to tremble. "Bend over daddy's lap and receive your punishment, princess." "Y-yes daddy." For her he'd slaughter a nation and drag many to Hell. The Devil has had his eyes on Vanessa since he met the innocent, untainted angel. His Angel. He'd do anything to keep her, to feel her impeccable skin under his impure fingertips, to kiss and stain the luscious lips of an angel with sin and to ruin her innocence and carve his name into her soul. And she's not just about to resist him. When an innocent, naive, little angel mingles with the step-father from Hell.

I was prepping the ceremonial cloak for our seventh mating anniversary. The front door suddenly banged open. My son rushed inside, tears streaming down his face. "The teacher yelled at me," he sobbed. He shoved the wrinkled drawing into my hands before burying his face in my shirt. I smoothed out the paper to see what the drama was about. It was a sketch of a faceless woman titled: The Substitute Mom. My heart stopped as I read the scribbles underneath. "Daddy said she is the backup." "She does the chores but gets no wages." "The Real Mom is responsible for being beautiful and guarding the treasury." My fingertips turned ice-cold against the paper. My mate, Ethan, had just returned from a patrol. He kissed my forehead. "What did our pup draw?" The next second, his smile froze when he saw the content. His voice tightened, and he reached out to snatch the book. "He watches too many cartoons! He's writing nonsense!" I stared at the man I had shared a den with for seven years. He looked like a stranger now. If I was the substitute. Who was this beautiful real mother? And where had my true son been all these years?