Urdu Novels Collection Novels & Stories

The ancient library was a tomb of forgotten knowledge, its towering shelves heavy with dust and the faint metallic tang of old paper. Freya had always preferred the night shift. The quiet wrapped around her like a lover’s cloak, letting the shy 24-year-old lose herself in books rather than people. Her pale skin glowed under the dim lamps, dark curls framing wide green eyes that hid a secret restlessness--a hunger she didn’t yet understand. But only 'Yet' Tonight, the storm outside howled against the tall windows. Lightning flashed as she carried a stack of restricted occult volumes toward the back. A presence filled the air, cold and ancient, making the hairs on her neck rise.

I was so shocked that my hand immediately flew over my mouth as my jaw dropped. That had to be the biggest plot twist I'd witnessed all year. The girl in the bed was Kayda—the class captain in mine and Lorena's class. She was every professor's pet and always acted like the holiest person on the planet, like some morality police. So imagine my shock seeing her naked, legs splayed apart, teasing her own nipples, inviting Kade to join her as her voice dripped with clear need. I was still processing her in that state when I heard the drawer Kade had been rummaging through slam shut, the noise loud in the quiet.

Chapter 5 Zara’s POV “Victor they’re getting worse” I burst out the second he shut the door behind me that evening my hands shaking as I stood in his living room still wearing the short skirt he had demanded earlier. “Mrs. Patel cornered me by the mailboxes today asking why my rent is suddenly never late while hers keeps getting notices. The guys in apartment three were laughing about how I must be sucking the landlord’s cock to stay in favor. I can’t keep sneaking over here like this every night without them figuring it out.”

Chapter 1 I sat at my desk trying hard to focus on the book in front of me, but it was a losing battle. Although Rhyme of The Ancient Mariner may be an all time classic, it was nowhere near as interesting as Miss Ross's amazing ass. Friday's were dress down days for the teachers and I lived for them. Usually on these afternoons I was treated to the sight of my favorite teacher's fine ass in a pair of fairly tight jeans.

The alternative was worse, my family ruined, me thrown to the streets. Pushing through the heavy doors, I entered a world of shadows and silk. Velvet curtains draped the walls, muffling the low hum of voices and the occasional moan echoing from hidden rooms. A woman in a sheer gown approached, her eyes appraising me like merchandise. "Mirelle Kane? Follow me. Your collector awaits." My stomach twisted. The collector. Rafe Draven. I had seen his name on the letter, a man whose reputation preceded him like a storm cloud.

“You offer curiosity instead of fear. That is a rare currency here. I am a collector of such rarities.” He stopped before her, so close she could feel the cool energy radiating from his skin. He did not touch her, but his presence was a physical weight. “I think I shall educate you, little scholar. The books in your world are lies, written by those who have never truly felt. I will teach you the old ways, the true texts are written on the flesh, in the languages of pleasure and pain. They are, I assure you, merely different dialects of the same devotion.”

He kept pounding until he finally groaned and filled me with hot, thick ropes of cum, his body shuddering against mine. After we caught our breath, I straightened my skirt, feeling his cum already starting to leak down my thighs, and gave him a wicked little smile. “I’ll take care of the rest. Don’t worry.” Later that afternoon, I found her in the quiet corner of the university library, tucked between the tall shelves of old literature books. She was pretending to read, but her face was still flushed and her hands were shaking as she turned the pages. I walked up behind her and leaned in close. “Hey… about what you saw earlier.”

Sara "Please, listen to me, Layla," I said, voice shaky as I stepped into the room. Her hands were jerking open drawers, yanking clothes from the wardrobe with quick, angry movements. T-shirts, sweaters, everything she could grab—tossed into a pile on the bed. She wasn't looking at me. "Layla—please," I said again, stepping closer. She spun around. Her eyes were red, burning. Her voice was like a slap.

My life felt biter at this moment. “When Indiyah and I were having problems… you remember?” Ace asked. I definitely did. Ace and his cuckoo wife were fighting nonstop. Truth be told, I had no idea how they made it this far. Indiyah was batshit crazy. I mean, crazy as in she once set fire to his car.

And yet I still couldn’t get through. What was the damn password? It took a lot of willpower not to slam my fist on the laptop in frustration. With each passing second, my eagerness to get to my destination intensified. In all my years on earth, I’d never seen a collection of p**n as voluminous as the one that resided on Daniel’s laptop. But the p**n alone wasn’t what had commanded my full curiosity. It was the toys that had been on a separate window beside it. My God. Never could I have imagined that any individual would have a toy collection that was that vast.