Thick Bulge Novels & Stories

“You wear these little skirts… are you trying to seduce me?” His eyes dragged down my body. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about” Before I could finish, his hand slid up my thigh, fingers brushing beneath the edge of my skirt. My breath hitched. He shoved my panties aside and pressed two thick fingers inside me. “Ahh. . . Kelvin. .” My knees buckled against the sink as he started slow, then thrust rougher, stretching me with every push. “You like that, baby girl?” he whispered against my lips. “Yes… oh God, yes.” His mouth hovered over mine, stealing the sound of my moans before he spun me around to face the mirror. My own reflection stared back at me wide eyes, flushed cheeks while Kelvin loomed behind, his heat swallowing me whole. “Watch while I fuck you,” he growled, shoving down his zipper. The heavy length of him slammed into me in one rough stroke, knocking the air from my lungs. “F-fuck!” I cried out, gripping the sink for dear life. He yanked my hair back, forcing me to look at myself as he pounded into me. “Be my slut today.” Dripping Wet is a collection of straight-up filthy stories about raw, no-limits sex. Bodies crashing together in hard fucks. Holes stretched wide, throats used rough, sheets drenched in cum and sweat. Each one dives deep into pure hunger, cocks slamming in deep, pussies taking it hard, asses getting claimed with no mercy. All the taboo stuff you crave, laid out in brutal detail. No romance. No sweet talk. Just hard, wet, pounding sex that leaves you spent. This book isn't about love. It's about need and giving in until you're soaked.

He was hired to guard the boss’s daughter. I’m that daughter… and I’m dying to fuck my own bodyguard. His thick cock slammed into me again and again, stretching me so deep I saw stars. I was bent over the marble counter in the safe house, dress shoved up to my waist, his huge hand fisted in my hair as he fucked me like he hated how much he needed me. “What do you think your dad would do if he catches us here?” Arnold growled against my ear, voice dark and filthy, never slowing his punishing rhythm. I chuckled through a broken moan, pushing back to take him harder. “I’m his one and only princess. He won’t do a thing to me. As for you… he’ll hang you alive and watch until the last drop of your blood dries.” I smirked, trying to mask how dizzy he made me. Then he whispered fearlessly, “I know the rules, but I don’t care.” ______ My name is Dorla De Luca. I’m twenty one. I was almost kidnapped, and my mafia father decided the only way to protect his only daughter was to assign his most trusted and most dangerous bodyguard to watch me 24/7. He never expected that bodyguard to be the man I’ve been secretly craving since I was eighteen. Arnold Black Russo is thirty two, cold, lethal, and bound by a blood oath to my father. Loving him is suicide. My father would put a bullet between his eyes without blinking. Yet every stolen touch, every forbidden night, only makes the fire burn hotter. He was hired to guard me. Instead, he’s ruining me. And I never want him to stop.

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

She froze, breath caught, facing the storm in his delinquent brown eyes. He leaned over her, hands gripping the rail, boxing her in. The air was thick, too heavy to breathe. Her gaze locked on his unwilling, yet unable, to look away. The closer he leaned, the harder her heart pounded. She bit her lip, nerves twitching. No matter how far she ran, he always found her. “Why do you keep chasing me?” she asked, barely above a whisper. Her voice trembled, as if volume might shatter her. He didn’t answer. Silence roared between them. His cold and expressionless never left her face. “Do you like me?” she pressed, ignoring the disinterest in his eyes. She needed something. He gave a soft tut, then brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, twirling it lazily. The touch was light, but his closeness made her pulse race. “‘Like’ is a bit heavy, Tinkerbell,” he murmured, voice low and indifferent. The nickname slipped out like smoke, mocking, yet oddly tender. He leaned in, close enough for her to feel his heat. Close enough to unravel her. But his eyes stayed dark. Empty. She swallowed hard, unsure what hid behind them. “It’s strange,” he added, voice softer now. “But you’re the first woman I’ve ever aknowledged as a lady, Snow White.” — She was the good girl. Quiet. Overlooked. Her life, a shadow. No warmth. No safety. For a moment, she thought she’d found love, someone who saw her. Someone worth clinging to. But he broke her. When he left, he took her love and her self-worth. She hated herself after that. Then she started to rebuild. And that’s when Zachary Gonzalez appeared. Mysterious. Magnetic. Dangerous. Everything she shouldn’t want.

"Spread your fucking legs for Daddy…" The moment those growled words hit my ears, my thighs trembled, going weak at the knees. I swallowed hard, my throat dry with envy, aching to be the one spread wide and commanded by that deep, dominant voice. Heat flooded my core, soaking my panties with slick arousal, my pussy clenching desperately around nothing. Like the foolish, needy girl I was, I nudged the door open just a crack, peeking into the dim light of his bedroom to see who he was claiming on that massive bed. But shock slammed into me—Alpha Kane wasn't with anyone else. He lounged against the headboard, his massive hand wrapped around his thick, veined cock, stroking it slow and firm while his piercing eyes locked on a spread of my photos scattered across the sheets. Pictures of me in innocent poses, but the way he pumped his shaft, pre-cum beading at the tip and dripping down his length, turned them filthy in his gaze. **** I'd been just ten when rogues tore through our pack in a brutal war, slaughtering my parents and leaving me orphaned in the blood-soaked ruins. Alpha Kane Laskovic had charged in like a storm, ripping through the attackers with savage fury, saving me and the survivors. He became my guardian, my armored knight, pulling me from the ashes and raising me under his powerful protection. I was supposed to call him Dad—respectful, safe. Not Daddy, not while fantasizing about him pinning me down, growling filthy commands as he fucked me raw, claiming every inch of my body as his. But gods, I couldn't stop. The taboo hunger burned too hot, making me crave his cum flooding my womb, marking me as his forbidden little slut.

The night my father collapsed, I learned some men negotiate with money… but Noah Thorne negotiates with lives. I never planned to marry a billionaire CEO, especially not the man my father owed $50,000 to. But when the hospital demanded an $80,000 deposit before surgery, life made the choice for me. While my mother sobbed in a cold hallway, Noah’s bodyguard arrived with an offer, an arranged marriage, a contract marriage that would clear the debt and cover every medical bill. When I confronted Noah, he presented the terms without cruelty: one year, no intimacy, public appearances only, and freedom after. He believed he was offering mercy but I felt like beautifully packaged captivity. Desperation crushed pride, and I signed. Our “marriage” was a seven-minute formality, no vows, no meaning. Moving into his penthouse was like stepping into a museum built to contain silence. Publicly, we were the perfect romance. Privately, we were strangers navigating a fragile arrangement thick with unspoken tension. Complications followed us: Noah’s elegant, smug ex who treated me like a placeholder, and my own ex-boyfriend, whose sudden reappearance triggered jealousy in Noah he couldn’t hide. Arguments, silences, and late-night moments softened something between us. Slowly, painfully, the man behind the empire emerged, the lonely boy shaped by loss, abandonment, and guarded walls. We began to care. We tried to deny it. Feelings weren’t in the contract but feelings don’t read contracts. Near the end of the year, Noah pulled away. I thought he wanted freedom. He signed the release papers with steady hands and a breaking heart. I was almost gone when he whispered the truth: “Please don’t go.” We tore up the contract. A year later, we married again, this time for love, not survival. This time, I chose him

Crystal Vale learned one thing growing up: visibility was dangerous. So she disappeared—behind thick glasses, baggy clothes, and the careful art of being forgettable. No one knows she hides a secret. Beneath the plainness is a woman so stunning she could stop traffic. But she buried that woman years ago. Standing out only brought trouble. Then she saved a billionaire's grandmother, and her invisible life ended. Ethan Vale is cold, ruthless, and devastatingly handsome. He married Crystal for one reason only: his grandmother's inheritance. To him, she's a transaction. A placeholder. The invisible wife who cooks his meals, waits up at night, and loves him quietly from the shadows. He never looks at her. He never sees her. He has no idea his plain, forgettable wife is hiding the face of a goddess. For one year, she endured. For one year, she hoped. For one year, she loved him in silence, believing that maybe—just maybe—he would eventually see her. He never did. The breaking point came the night his ex walked out of his bedroom and Crystal's world shattered. That night, she finally understood the truth she'd been running from: she could love him forever, and he would never, ever see her. Turns out Crystal isn't nobody. She's Crystal Laurent. Heiress to an empire that makes the Vales look like peasants. Daughter of the most powerful family in the city. The lost girl who was stolen twenty-three years ago—and never stopped being searched for. Now Crystal has a name she never knew. A family more powerful than Ethan could ever imagine. And a decision that will shake two empires to their core. Ethan Vale threw away his invisible wife without a second glance. But Crystal Laurent? She's going to make him remember her forever. Even if it destroys them both.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock right here on this table,” he snarled, fangs grazing the frantic pulse in my throat, “and knot you so deep my daughter and every wolf in this pack will smell me dripping out of your ruined little cunt for weeks. Tell me you want that, babygirl. Beg Daddy for it.” I was shaking, slick running down my thighs, clit throbbing so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Yes… please…” His massive hand clamped around my throat, squeezing until stars burst behind my eyes. “Yes what, little human?” “Yes, Daddy,” I choked out, voice breaking. “Ruin me. Breed me. Right fucking now.” --- I never should’ve stepped foot in Ireland for my best friend’s Christmas wedding. Not when I’ve spent months on my knees in the dark, fingers buried in my pussy, moaning her father’s name like a prayer. Alpha Cassian Blackthorne. Ruthless. Feral. Old enough to be my father...twice over. The monster who makes empires kneel and wolves beg, the wolf who could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist… and the only man I want choking me with his belt while he forces every thick inch down my throat. He’s forbidden. He’s depraved. He’s looking at me now under the blood-red Christmas lights like he’s already tasted my surrender. And he has one holiday wish... To hunt me. Break me. Fuck me raw and bloody until I’m addicted to his knot. Until I’m carrying his pup and wearing his bite like a collar. This Christmas, the Alpha isn’t asking permission. He’s taking his naughty little human pet… And I’m already dripping for the day he finally snaps.

"Take me back to my family, you monster." I seethed in anger at the person in front of me now. I am not bothered at the sight of him naked before my eyes. Anger and fear had over-powered me since the moment he kidnapped me and brought me in this damn place. He chuckled and as he move closer to me cupping my face with his warm hand. "I am your family... my mate." "Stop calling me that. I am not your mate and I will never be." "Oh I can't do that. You belong here and not with those weak humans." amusement not leaving his eyes. "Humans? Of course I belong there. If there's a place I don't belong to, it's in this godamn place. Just let me go." "Oh really now? How come you don't belong here when you are... " he paused a moment. "What's that term you used again?... ah, a monster....yourself?" I was taken aback at what he said. "Me? A monster? You are making a mistake. I am not like you." Just as I about to speak again, the man changed his form. With the cracking of bones and the appearance of thick black hair in his entire body, he is once again the monster I saw earlier. I am beyond scared now but I can't do anything because both my arms are chained to the wall. His eyes were a mix of amber and black that watched me intently. Then very slowly he came forward. He looked me in the eye and with that came a voice from my head. "Really? Then explain to me why you can hear me talking now? It's one thing we werewolf can do. It's called mind-link." With that he changed into human form again with a smirk in his face. "See you later." Then he walked outside the room leaving me here petrified.

In my previous life, I practically dragged my useless childhood sweetheart to Harvard with me. My academic record was top-notch, and I spent three years tutoring him. I asked my father to donate a library to Harvard University, ensuring that they would extend an additional offer of admission to Felix. Finally—when he rejected the offer in favor of taking a gap year to go work in Australia with the girl he was infatuated with—I raised such a massive scene that I ultimately forced him to go to Harvard with me. After graduation, we got married. The natural ending. He built a tech empire and made me the wife of the richest man in the country. One regret. He died too young. Didn't leave me a single word at the end. Just went. And I — I inherited his billions, and lived comfortably all the way to eighty-eight. But when I died, I saw his soul. His eyes were blood-red. "You forced me onto this path. You took me from the only woman I ever loved. I died with regret. Pray we never meet again in the next life." ...What the fuck? He'd been in that much pain? And I was the only one — happily riding it out? Captions drifted across my vision. [Lmao — how thick is this side character's skin?] [Male lead dies young in agony, she breezes through to 88 as the richest widow in the country.] [The girl he actually loved was the one who flunked her SATs and ran off backpacking, hello???] [They both died young, missed each other, and the side character had the time of her life.] Even I felt bad. When I opened my eyes, I was back — standing in that basement he'd sworn would be his life of freedom, on the day he was supposed to reject his Harvard offer. This time, I am not stopping him from going to Australia.