Spilled Milk

Warning: 18+ Contains explicit scenes and adult languages featuring hardcore erotica. This book is a collection of stories of steamy irresistible fun , naughty , filthy, office romances and sex with the boss. Get ready to be intrigued and feel the ultimate erotic excitement!!! **** “Before I could say another word, he bent me over the windowsill of his office and gripped the sides of my waist tightly. I responded by grinding back into him, feeling his hardness against me. “I want to fuck you with a view,” he said before thrusting into me finally. I let out a loud moan as I adjusted to his girth. He had filled me up completely, stretching me to accommodate his size. God, it felt so fucking good I immediately began to tremble. Slowly, he began to thrust in and out of me. This angle felt amazing, and I felt like I was about to come already. “I want you to tell me you want this,” he demanded in an urgent voice, as he began to increase his pace. “I want it,” I panted, barely able to string together a fully coherent sentence. “No, try again,” he urged, gripping my sides even harder. He was speaking to me in such a domineering way, I felt he could make me come just by his voice alone. It was what piqued my interest, after all, when he’d spoken to me in his low voice back at the bar. “I want it, Boss,” I moaned. He began to thrust harder. Our ruin didn’t take long after that. Soon, he pulled out of me and spilled his entire load on my back. We came at the same exact time. “God, that was amazing,” I panted, still trying to catch my breath.

“Amara Cross, are you trying to drive me insane? I agree to go to a club and find you swaying like a pro whore, throwing your ass at hungry eyes, and you are proud of it too.” His grip crushed my arms, sharp and painful. My hand slipped between my thighs, pressing hard, pain mixing with heat, and he did not notice. But when he saw my bloodshot eyes, he let out a hot, frustrated breath. “Amara, are you drunk?” I nodded, confused. Tears spilled like a flood, driven by that brutal pulse burning deep inside me. “Dean Dorian, I am very drunk.” His eyes widened. Then they darkened even more. “What nonsense are you saying, little girl? What did you take to end up like this?” I was shaking. A soft moan escaped me as my fingers pressed harder. I could not hold it in anymore. I covered my mouth, then dropped my hand, speaking to him in miserable pleasure. “Dean Dorian, touch me.” I whispered it, begging. His eyes, drowned in darkness, searched my face like a man looking for salvation. Everything stopped when his hand settled on the back of my head. He leaned in and crushed his mouth against mine, hungry and savage. ------------------- Amara Cross did not enter university looking for love. She entered to survive. A quiet scholarship student with no one behind her, carrying a fragile past, dreaming of one thing only. Safety. But on a dark night, on a road with no mercy, a man saves her. A man who was never supposed to be part of her life. Dorian Vale. The university dean. Powerful. Cold. Controlling. Dangerous. What starts as silent rescue turns into attention. Then protection. Then obsession with no rules. He knows everything. Watches her. Decides for her.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

Luke finally agreed to bind with me, urged by his mother Monica on her deathbed. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a glow on his golden-brown fur. He stood by the bed, his amber wolf eyes deep and seemingly nervous. As soon as he stepped out of the room, his expression returned to its usual calm, and he said to me coldly, "Emma, let's wait a little longer." "I need to bond with Alina first," he continued, his wolf eyes distant, his tone neutral. "Her mother is seriously ill, and I promised her." "What about your mother? She wants to witness our bonding too!" "I have to bond with Alina first. You don't need to worry about my mother’s health," he said, as he effortlessly removed the vow ring Monica had given me from my finger, then turned and walked away. His little wolf followed, its tail wagging happily, showing no sign of reluctance. But as soon as he left, his mother suddenly took a turn for the worse. By the time Monica passed away, I was the only one by her side. Weakly, she squeezed my hand and whispered, "Emma, don’t wait for him anymore. Find someone who truly loves you." Her hand fell limp, and in the quiet darkness, I made two calls. The first was to the church, changing our marking ceremony to a funeral for his mother. The second call was to my best friend. Her brother was the Alpha of another pack, with dark fur and sharp green eyes. "He once said that if I was willing, he would bond with me... Is that promise still valid?" There was a pause on the other end before a deep voice, full of natural authority, came through: "Emma, have you finally figured it out?"

How sinful it is when you start falling for your best friends older brother whom they might not like so much! There is only two things Ophelia Wants in life - One is to finish her graduation successfully so that she can finally be settled and two find Leonard. Ophelia Hamilton is your every day girl going to college and striving to achieve her dreams with a slight twist she has a past but doesn't everyone? Finally making it to Her dream college with her business major and 90% scholarship she has all her plans laid out straight. She has to keep her head down and her grades up and just has to graduate without any drama but what she doesn't know is that she is in for a huge surprise. Very first day to college all her plans of keeping Lowkey comes crashing down when she barges straight into a football Jock and spills all her latte over him, To make the matters even worse instead of being pissed the guy starts laughing and fast forwarding the story she needs crazy duo, the Russo twins. When invited to lunch with them Ophelia assumes that this is Jake's way of revenge oh her for the spilled latte but with time she connect weirdly with the two most popular people in the school and lives behind their shadow. Ophelia couldn't be happier she has 2 amazing friends, amazing grades and even though this was not as what she planned when she started her school she is gladly surprised and happy. But life doesn't always throws things at you that you expect. And so life throws at her Xaviers Russo. Xaviers Russo is the definition of danger and for someone like Ophelia he is someone she should run to the woods from.

Warning ⚠️: 🔞If you are below 18, please do not open this book as it contains high sexual content that could make your pant drip wet from pleasure.🔞 🔞Are you still going to read it? Alright then. Good luck, and don't blame me if you get h*rny while reading this piece🔞 "Strip, Amelie," His domineering voice sounds through her ears, and she slowly clenches her fists as she glares at the monster standing before her, with hatred written all over her. How could this man be so heartless? What has she ever done to deserve this from him? "Are you playing stubborn, Amelie? I hope you know the consequence of what you're doing. Who should pay for your disrespect? Your maid, or one of those poor things in the prison?" With a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips, he says to her and her heart sinks into her stomach. Hot tears pour down her cheeks as her heart tightens painfully. She can't still bring herself to take the pain of being a sex slave to the man that snatched her parents away from her, it's still like a nightmare that she's going to be stuck with him for the rest of her life. This was the same man that stabbed her father multiple times before her eyes, the man that slit her mother's throat and spilled her mother's blood on her face. How's she supposed to cope with this? "I won't have sex with you, Sebastian. Never again!" She finally summons courage and spits on his face, but she has just made the biggest mistake of her life. Will the ruthless king Sebastian spare her for this disrespect? Will someone have to pay with her life?

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."

"Fuck, you're so tight for me," Ryder growled against my ear, his hips slamming forward in a deep, punishing thrust that made my back arch off the bed. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me completely, stretching me. "Harder... please..." He pinned my wrists above my head with one large hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "You want it rough, baby? Then beg for it properly." My body trembled under him, slick and desperate. The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Please... Daddy... fuck me harder." A dark, satisfied rumble vibrated through his chest. He leaned down, teeth grazing my neck, voice low and filthy. "Good girl. Come all over Daddy's cock. Show me how much you need this.” *** On my wedding day, I caught my fiancé Dylan Voss and my step-sister Helene fucking each other in a room. Heartbroken and humiliated, I walked away from the altar. That's when Ryder Hawthorne—Dylan's powerful, ruthless stepfather—found me. He carried me to his penthouse, and in a haze of rage and need, I seduced him. We fucked like it was war: rough, and desperate. When Dylan walked in and saw me riding his stepdad—he felt betrayed and stormed out. I felt satisfied and vindicated. It was supposed to be one night. We were never supposed to see each other again. Until I desperately took a job at Hawthorne Prosperity Group to save my dying grandmother…and discovered Ryder was my new boss. One rough, forbidden encounter in his office, and he offered me to be his personal slut, in return he'd pay Gran's bills. I had no choice and accepted. Payback became obsession. My ex wants me back, but Ryder refuses to let go. Now I’m caught between revenge and surrender.

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”