Steamy Reads Novels & Stories

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

No one knew that I was a sex addict until the company's team building exercise. I had forgotten to bring my medicine along for that night and was assigned to a tent with a male colleague. I was in tears as I climaxed right before his eyes, and now that there was no turning back, my impulses spiralled further away from control…

My mother ran an adult novelty shop. One afternoon, exhausted, I crashed at the store to rest, only to end up accidentally trapped in one of the shop's new specialty beds. When our neighbor, Clarissa Hartley, stopped by to settle her bill, she somehow mistook me for the latest product... and actually started pulling off my pants.

"N-No! F-Four is too much for me! I won't be able to handle them!" In a midnight bus ride, four of my husband's work colleagues have me pinned down on a seat. Soon, I feel my legs getting wrenched apart by force. The man standing before me takes off his belt before whipping it across my perky butt heavily. "Spread your legs! Women like you are meant to give us pleasure!" After that, he tears my soaked panties off my body.

“Mhm, so tingly! My body can’t take it anymore. I really want it...” I was in a maternity store while shirtless, demonstrating how to use a breast pump. My body tingled as the soft silicone pumped on my sensitive spots. What made it worse was that it was a public demonstration. It attracted quite a few married men. They were staring at my body. Their intense gazes made me feel shy and worked up. Ridiculously, three men actually asked me to demonstrate which positions would make it easy to get their wives pregnant.

"Mr. Ziegler, I'll let you play with my body as long as you let me leave the campus." In the security office of the college, Lucy Brown, a sexy college student, sits on my lap while pleading to me to open the gate for her. I want to turn her down. After all, the campus' rules state that students aren't allowed to leave the grounds after 10:00 pm. But to my shock, Lucy takes off my pants instantly and sits on top of me.

"Please… stop pushing. I can't move." The concert crowd was packed and restless, bodies pressed tightly together. I found myself too close to the girl in front of me. She wore a short skirt that brushed against me every time the crowd surged. What caught my attention was how close we were: the faint warmth of her body through the thin fabric made my pulse quicken. For a brief moment, I thought I felt her react too, as if she sensed the same strange tension hanging between us.

"S-Stop… If you keep spreading my legs, I'll get hurt…" On the subway, three muscular guys spread my legs roughly while I try to stop them the best as I can. The man standing in front of me suddenly draws out his belt and ties my hands with it. "Stay put! Sluts like you are born to give us pleasure!" Then, he spreads my legs once again before ripping my soaked panties off my body.

“Dr. Carter… I don’t know why, but I feel a little dizzy. I think I should go back…” I had drunk some red wine in the head of surgery’s office, and, for some reason, my body started feeling unwell. “Don’t rush off,” Dr. Carter replied with an expression I could not recognize. Then, he pushed me onto the couch. “It’s not often I get a chance to get close to the prettiest nurse in the hospital.” I could not respond.

Liana Elizabeth Rose of the prestigious Rose family woke gasping—remembering everything. At first, she thought it was a dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe heaven, maybe hell, or wherever people go when life has been cruel enough to steal their breath. But the room was the same. The curtains were the same. The smooth, unscarred skin she touched was the same. As if the last five years of betrayal and humiliation had never etched themselves into her. Then the panic hit. She remembered. Every. Single. Thing. The cold metal of prison bars. Her husband Adrian’s dead, beautiful eyes accusing her of the accident. The trial. The cousin who framed her. The family who abandoned her. The little brother who no longer remembered her voice. Her death. And the cruelest truth: she wasn’t even from this world. It was a book a stupid novel her roommate had recommended. She died inside a story she didn’t write. And now, she woke up at the moment everything began to crumble. Fine. Sharpen her mind. Feed her ambition. And when the plot tried to drag her back, she’d pull harder. Then there was him—Adrian. From his point of view, the world shifted. Her scent. Her voice. Her existence. Everything about her crawled under his skin, sank into his bloodstream, coiled around his bones. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to. He only knew: if she breathed, he wanted it. If she moved, he followed. Obsession wasn’t a symptom—it was his nature. And Liana? She had rewritten herself into the one thing he could never let go of. This time, she wasn’t the victim. She wasn’t a plot device. She was the storm. And Adrian? Learning, too late, that even possession has a price.