Thick Lesbians Novels & Stories

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.

"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.

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.

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.

"An alliance isn't enough," I breathed slowly as I stepped directly into his path, forcing him to look at me fully. Hassan raised a thick eyebrow, his gaze dropping to my palms, then rising back to my silver eyes. "Then we have nothing left to discuss." "We do," I said, my voice dropping into a deadly, unyielding register that vibrated with absolute certainty. The slow-burn fire of revenge ignited in my soul, obliterating every ounce of fear I had left. Instead of letting him leave, I looked straight into the eyes of the monster. "Then marry me." ~ I died as the Luna who gave everything to the wrong Alpha. I loved my husband with everything I had. I believed he loved me too. Together, we united our packs, strengthened his claim as the most powerful Alpha, and built the future I thought we both wanted. The night I died, I learned the truth. His former fated mate revealed that I had only been a pawn—a temporary Luna whose only purpose was to hand over my pack. Once I had outlived my usefulness, she murdered me without mercy. But the Moon Goddess gave me another chance. I woke up days before our wedding, carrying every memory of my past life. This time, I refuse to marry the Alpha who led me to my death. I refuse to let history repeat itself. My fate is no longer his to decide. To protect my pack, I enter a contract marriage with the most feared Alpha in the werewolf world—Hassan Blackthorn. I thought my second life was about escaping my tragic ending. Instead, it leads me to a powerful Alpha I never expected... and a truth that could change everything I thought I knew about fate, love, and the price of becoming Luna.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

Three days trapped here with Kael had stripped away every pretense, leaving only the raw heat building between them. His broad, sun-bronzed chest rose with each breath, muscles shifting under scarred skin as he leaned in, his calloused hands sliding up her thighs to part them. "Cassandra," he murmured, voice low and rough like the island winds, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a hunger that mirrored the ache in her core. She felt the weight of his cock pressing against her belly, thick and insistent, already slick with need as he ground against her soaked pussy. His fingers delved lower, parting her folds with deliberate strokes that sent sparks racing through her veins, teasing her swollen clit before sinking two deep inside her tight heat. Cassandra gasped, arching into him, her breasts heavy and nipples hardening as his mouth claimed one, tongue swirling and sucking while his thumb circled her sensitive nub. The cave's chill faded against the fire of their bodies, her hips bucking as he pumped his fingers faster, her juices coating his hand and dripping down her thighs. "Kael... please," she breathed, pulling him closer, her fingers wrapping around his pulsing shaft to stroke its veined length from base to tip, feeling it throb in her grip. He groaned, the sound vibrating against her skin, and shifted to position himself between her legs, the blunt head of his cock nudging her entrance before thrusting in with one smooth, filling motion that stretched her walls and made her cry out in ecstasy. They moved together in the dim glow filtering from the cave mouth, his hips snapping with increasing urgency, each deep plunge hitting that spot inside her that made her vision blur.

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

Zesa Russo commands the boardroom with the same precision and confidence she brings to every aspect of her life. At 28, she’s the fierce CEO of Techya, a company she’s built from the ground up. Driven, unrelenting, and unapologetically bold, she’s never been one to wait for a prince charming to come sweep her off her feet—instead, she’s the force that shapes her own destiny. And her destiny has always involved him. The man who had once eluded her grasp, the one she had silently craved for years. But Zesa isn’t the kind to let love slip through her fingers. No. She's determined to make him hers, no matter what. Slowly, inevitably, she knows he’ll surrender his heart to her—just like everything else she’s ever set her sights on. ____ Levi’s mischievous gaze locks onto mine, daring, seductive, his lips curving into a slow smirk as he steps closer. “Should I stop?” His voice is velvet, deep and teasing, laced with danger. But I don’t flinch. “No,” I breathe, my pulse quickening, every nerve in my body on edge. His smirk deepens, a dark promise in his eyes as his fingers slowly trace the hem of my dress, lifting it with agonizing precision. The whisper of fabric against my skin sends shivers down my spine. His lips—warm, soft, and skilled—graze the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Levi’s hand slips beneath the fabric, fingertips brushing against my desire, teasing, drawing out a soft gasp from me. The heat between us is suffocating, yet intoxicating. “Levi…” My voice trembles as he nips gently at my thigh, his breath hot against my skin. “You’ll be the one begging me to stop,” he murmurs, the promise in his words thick, dripping with need.