Vibrating Clit Piercing

When Claire was asked to be Ethan's after-school tutor, she was up to the task. She didn't think that it would be hard to keep her emotions at bay despite the spoiled rich boy's piercing eyes and flirty disposition, but little did she know that she was in for more trouble than it seemed.

I was a writer. I rented a place in the countryside to seek inspiration. The villagers said it was a haunted house. Twenty years ago, a mad woman murdered her daughter by piercing a needle into her skull! I did not believe it, but I got a call from a little girl that night. She said it was 2002, and her mother was trying to kill her!

"You are very wet for me. So wet. Fuck,” He grunted softly. His fingers brushed inside of my thigh, and when he moved to caress the tips around my clit, I couldn’t help the whimpers escaping from the depth of my being. “Soon, baby girl, there won’t be an inch of you that doesn’t belong to me.” ****** Without a doubt, Celia Weaver knew her parents hated her, and that had to be the only reason they treated her like dirt. She sometimes doubted if she was truly her father's. Even before she was born, her fate was already decided. She was collateral for a debt her father owed the Hamiltons, a family known for their cruelty. Her world shattered when a guard walked through the door of her father on her eighteenth birthday, ready to take her away. Bite into this dark, sinful, and delicious love story.

I received an order to feed someone's dogs at home. But when I opened the door, what greeted me wasn't a hungry pet—it was the campus belle herself. She stuck out her tongue, a glint of metal from her tongue piercing catching the light, and said, "I'm starving…"

“This is Abraham Blackwood, heir to the Blackwood empire, one of the richest families in the country." The moment I stepped ahead, he turned slowly and my breath caught in my throat. The shock of seeing him again struck me like a bolt of lightning. No… It can’t be him. But it was. Sitting there, casually sipping tea, was him—the man from the bar. The same piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression shifting from mild amusement to disbelief. His sharp blue eyes pierced through the room and locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath freeze in my throat. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The memories of the night in the bar flooded back—his arrogance, his rude comments, his piercing gaze that had felt so unsettling. I stared at Alexander, still in shock. The man sitting across from me wasn't just any stranger. He was a billionaire—an heir to a vast fortune. My brother had been friends with him for years, and their families had arranged this marriage as part of a business partnership.

" I hate you." his piercing gaze on me darkened. "Hate me all you want,that, doesn't change the fact that you belong to me." Gripping my chin, his eyes challenge me to deny it. I take a step back, his grip on my hair tightens, as his lips graze against mine "Never ever deny me your touch wife."

"Matteo, please..." I whispered. "Beg louder," he commanded, his lips brushing my ear as his free hand squeezed my breast, pinching the nipple until I gasped. "Please, Matteo. I need you." He smirked, satisfied, before sinking to his knees. His mouth replaced his fingers, his tongue parting me, slow and devastating. My hands flew into his hair, pulling, guiding, but he held me still, forcing me to endure every languid lick, every tease. When he finally sucked my clit into his mouth, I screamed, my legs trembling around his shoulders. "Come for me, piccola," he growled against my slick heat. The vibrations of his voice shattered me, pleasure ripping through me so violently I nearly collapsed, but he held me firm, drawing out every last wave until I was shaking.

“Fuck. Come for me, kitten” I grunt buring to the hilt, I stimulate her clit the way she likes. “Now!” “Mhmm… ahh! Yes daddy!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.  *** Wren had no idea what the holiday has in store for her when she decided to join her mother for it. She didn't expect to find herself alone on some remote island with Alpha Ronan, her stepfather. Without her ill mother!Ronan has always been a gentleman and she should have no reason to panic because they are alone but what if she is the dirty one who has been having weird fantasies about her own stepfather? No wonder she was dubbed ‘the weirdo’ in the pack. It all makes sense to her.What happens when they find out they are mates? And he woefully rejected her but offered for her to be his mistress during the entire holiday because he couldn't stay away either. She agreed to become his Holimate.

Sara's legs straddling Austin's lap, their lips clashed in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sound of their lips meeting was like a spark, igniting a flame that threatened to consume them. "Mmm," Sara murmured, her lips vibrating against Austin's. "I hate you," Austin growled, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sara's hands were just as busy, her fingers tracing the lines of Austin's face, her thumbs brushing against his lips. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their kissing. Their lips parted for a moment, and Austin's tongue darted out, tracing the curve of Sara's lower lip. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Sara's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the contours of Austin's chest. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. As she exposed his chest, Austin's eyes locked onto hers, a warning flashing in their depths. "You'll hate me tomorrow," he said, his voice low and rough. Sara's eyes flashed with defiance, her hands continuing to explore Austin's chest. "We don't like each other anyway," she said, her voice husky with desire.

After spending a night together, Nova never expected to see Damian again. That is, until three months later when their paths crossed once more. “You’re so wet, Nova,” he murmured against my neck, his warm breath fanning over my skin as his lips grazed me. Damian’s nose traced along my jaw before he pressed a slow, possessive kiss under my ear. His hand slid between my thighs, fingers brushing over my slick folds before teasing my clit in slow, deliberate circles. My breath hitched, and his low groan vibrated against my throat. He pushed two fingers inside me, curling them deep as his thumb kept stroking. Heat coiled in my belly, my hips grinding into his touch. I glanced down and caught the sight of his tattooed hand buried in my lacy underwear, moving with skill and hunger. I smirked through a gasp — I loved seeing him there, claiming me like that.