Thick Thighs

🔥 TRIGGER WARNING: Explicit sexual content ahead. 18+ only. 🔥 “Fuck, this is wrong,” he snarls, sweat dripping from his collar onto my breasts as his thick, veiny cock slams into my soaked pussy, each thrust a wet, filthy slap off the office walls. I clamp down hard, every slick ridge dragging fire through me, and gasp against his stubbled throat, “That’s why it feels so good.” Exiled to a small Italian town after a sex-tape scandal torched her father’s career, Lilith Black was meant to vanish. Instead, she strides into Saint Raphael’s in a white dress and targets the one man she can’t touch. Father Damien Cross is devotion incarnate—until the confessional booth becomes her weapon. She sees the killer beneath the collar and craves him anyway. He knows she’ll ruin him, but the monster inside is already clawing free. When ghosts from his blood-soaked past resurface, Lilith must decide if Damien is worth the inferno. Some temptations are worth burning for. Some sins are too delicious to resist.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: This book contains scenes of psychological manipulation, emotional abuse, explicit content, and morally gray characters. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Not for the faint of heart. 🔞‼️ Cassandra Jenkins was blackmailed into marrying Trovian Blackwood to shield her sister from her father’s brutal brand of control. On the surface, she looks like a pawn. A delicate, obedient bride in a designer cage. But behind her silence is a woman quietly plotting. Trovian, ruthless and ice-blooded, believes Cassandra is her father's latest puppet. He wants vengeance, not vows. Every glance is a power play. Every touch is a calculated punishment. He makes her pay for sins she didn’t commit. But the more he watches her… The more he realizes that she’s hiding fire beneath her bruised loyalty. Their marriage becomes a battlefield of cruel words, broken trust, and tension so thick it borders on violence. Yet somewhere between the hate and the hurt, desire creeps in. Dark. Twisted. Addictive. When enemies from the shadows rise, Cassandra and Trovian must decide— Will they destroy each other? Or become the kind of monsters willing to burn the world down together?

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

Cocky, arrogant, and dropped dead gorgeous: That described my boss, Mr. Craft, to a T. His thick hair, cold blue eyes and strong jaw held power in a conference meeting, causing women to melt in his presence. I’ve wanted to confront him on his stubborn attitude and critical demands for employees. I’d bitten my tongue in many scenarios and held in my true feelings over a dozen times. Keeping the peace was necessary until I had enough experience under my belt to move onto bigger and better things. The only problem was; Craft Marketing was the bigger and better, and the longer I stuck it out with him, meant more opportunities would arise. I’d been the only female intern to land a job directly under him, and was also the only one who hadn’t slept with him. I knew he was promiscuous with the tall and leggy blondes that breezed into his office looking immaculate, then scurried back out with mussed hair, flushed cheeks, and unbuttoned blouses. I'd ignore the magnetic pull of chemistry and curiosity between us. Unless it came to my advantage.

In exchange for her friend's life, A ruthless billionaire asked her to play a game. A game that is far more intense than a simple crossword puzzle she solves every Sunday, a game that is more challenging than the contents of a chessboard, a game that is so intimate that she can't help falling in love with him. When her friend accidentally gets an important piece of a hard drive that belongs to that sexy billionaire, he uses her vulnerability in the game. "Play a game with me," he said in his thick British accent, "What game?" A smirk plastered over his face, "Seduction" he completes with a mischievous grin as leans against the wall, not taking his eyes off of her, A game that demands more than attraction, filled with raw desires for each other Veronica is not only tempted by that man but after one game she is lust over heels for him. Passion, desirability, temptation, and Seduction left her on the verge of finding the one. Seduction the taste of lust, COMPLETED, MATURE CONTENT, COPYRIGHTS RESERVED, This story all came from my imagination, it's my work so please don't infringe.

“I’m going to tell you what I have in mind,” he murmured. “First you’re going to strip down until you’re completely naked,” he whispered against her ear. “Then I’m going to tie you up so you’re completely powerless and subject to my every whim.” “Mmm, sounds good so far,” she murmured. “Then I’m going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it’s rosy with my marks.” She shivered uncontrollably, her mind exploding with the images he evoked. She let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth. God, she could cum with just his words. She was already aching with need. Her nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. Her clit pulsed and twitched between her legs until she clamped her thighs together to alleviate the burn. “And then I’m going to f**k your mouth. But I won’t cum. Not yet. When I’m close, I’ll flog you again until your ass is burning and you’re on fire with the need for relief. And then I’m going to f**k that ass. I’m going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won’t be gentle. Not tonight. I’m going to take you as roughly as you can stand. And then I’m going to cum all over your ass. Are you ready to be completely and utterly dominated?"

🔥 THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, POSSESSIVE ALPHA ENERGY, AND INTENSE EMOTIONAL TENSION. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED...Abandoned by her mother, bullied mercilessly at school, and thrown into a household of four dangerously attractive stepbrothers, she’s desperate to find her footing. "You look absolutely edible," Sean growled, his eyes devouring her. Mia felt a rush of heat between her thighs "Oh, you think so?" she purred, turning to face him. She reached out and traced her fingers along the ribbon that wrapped around his waist. "Well, I've been waiting for this all day. And I'm starving." Sean's smile grew into a predatory grin. "Then let us feast," he said, and in a flash, the ribbon fell away, exposing his rock-hard length. He stepped closer, and Mia felt the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered, "You're going to take every inch of us tonight, aren't you?" With Rolex’s teasing smirk and Sean’s quiet, hot stares, Mia doesn’t know where to turn—or who to trust. Every glance, every touch leaves her breathless, confused, and craving more than she should. Will Mia survive their games, or will she lose herself in a dangerous world of secrets, seduction, and forbidden desire? One house. Four brothers. Endless temptation. (STEPSERIES PART 1- STEPBROTHER'S PUNISHES ME EVERYNGHT) (STEPSERIES PART 2- STEPUNCLES' ALPHAS PUNISH ME EVERYNIGHT) This is a dark romance—dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore.

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.”

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

Victor’s private jet has barely cleared the runway when Amelia’s legs spread for the one man she’s never allowed to touch: her husband’s son. She has everything money can buy, except the brutal, filthy fucking her body craves. Ethan has the thick, merciless cock that finally gives it to her. For nineteen stolen days they turn the penthouse into their personal playground: the marble island where she screams into his mouth, the glass shower where he pins her dripping wet, the marital bed where he pumps her full night after night while Victor sleeps in ignorance thirty thousand feet away. She was a bored trophy wife. Now she’s a dripping, obsessed slut who counts the hours until her husband leaves again, because only Ethan can split her open, ruin her, and make her come so hard she forgets she ever belonged to anyone else. Nineteen days. No panties. No mercy. And when Victor comes home, she’ll greet him with Ethan’s cum still warm inside her, smiling like the perfect wife.