Wet Through Panties Novels & Stories

"Can I taste you down there?" He said and I swallowed. "I want to claim you." His words disrupted my thoughts and I inhaled in a sharp breath. "When you fell on my hands before practically falling on the floor, I knew I just had to have you." His deep voice reverberated throughout the empty room. He was sounded confident—no he was confident. "Even if it's for a night." “I want to feel your skin on fire. I want to inhale the sharp of your breath as blood rushes through your body. Tell me bunny, are you wet right now?” He asked and I inhaled sharply. He growled. She was Fire, and he wanted to consume every bit of her. It was supposed to be a one night of fun, letting go and celebrating graduation from college. That was all Emma had bargained herself for. He was Gideon, the owner of the biggest club in New York and few other countries. A typical player? No that wasn't the type of man he was, but that didn't mean he didn't mind having some fun occasionally. Or maybe more than occasionally. What then happens when the one night of fun revolves into a forever when an unnerving situation binds both parties together? Would they be able to make the best out of the situation or would it turn out to be a disaster?

You are fucking wet already,” Luca whispered against my ear, lope causing warmth to travel around me. His hand slid into my pants... A moan of pleasure escaped me but I pressed my mouth together. Adrenaline rushed within me at the thought of getting caught. Russell, my Alpha, was in the next room with Finn, and I was here getting wet for My Alpha's hybrid brother. Lia has always had this idea that she had no wolf until she had sex with Alpha Russell, the Alpha of her pack. Unfortunately, she found out that she was pregnant. She decided to hide the child. Illegitimate Royal children suffered a lot. They were mocked and called Bastard for no reason. Seven years later, a contest is organized for Alpha Russell to find his mate and, as fate would have it. She was betrothed to him. He outrightly rejected her scattering her dreams, but with this, she had caught the attention of Luca, the hidden hybrid. And he would do everything within his power to get her even though she ends up getting married to Russell, the pack Alpha.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

Celeste was forced into a chosen mating with the most brutal and feared Alpha because of an alliance between the packs even though her father had promised that she would get to select her mate. In order to get rid of the alpha, she runs away only to stumble right into her fated mate. Now torn between two wolves and the threat of starting a war if she does not return to fulfill her duty to her pack, she must make a choice between love and duty, or she could lose everything. “I just need to check something real quick…” He whispers in my ear, as I feel his fingers slide under my panties and go straight to my core, feeling around for my clit.

“Panties off. Now. Crawl onto the bed, spread those legs wide, and light every fucking rose. I want your dripping cunt glowing in the candlelight while I decide whether I’m going to edge you until you sob… or pin you down and breed you until you’re leaking me for days.” Welcome to Naughty Empire—a filthy, no-holds-barred collection of pure taboo heat. Step-daddy professors bending innocent students over lecture desks, explosive step-brother reunions where years of tension finally snaps, primal breeding scenes that leave you dripping and claimed, and every dark kink imaginable laid bare. No limits. No apologies. Just raw, pulse-pounding indulgence.

[MATURE CONTENT R18] “I want this,” I whispered, my voice shaking with need. “I’ve been saving myself for you, Gavin. Take me and make me yours.” "Jesus, Mel... you're a virgin?" I bit my lips hard, eyes glued on his as I trailed one finger down from my boobs to the middle of my stomach, past the lace of my panties, and into my core. His eyes followed the movement, his chest heaving. I lifted the finger and placed it on my tongue, swirling it around and sucking it. “I'm a virgin, Gavin, but I'm not innocent. I need you to ruin me!” ~~\\~~\\~~\\~~\\~~ Melanie Wealth has spent her whole life starving for love. Ignored by her powerful politician father, she has learned to survive in the shadows... until Gavin Thorne makes her feel seen. He’s the legendary coach of Chatham University’s hockey team, her boyfriend's coach, and her father's best friend. ​When a violent night leaves Melanie covered in blood and out of options, she flees to the only sanctuary she knows. One forbidden touch is all it takes for years of pent-up longing to explode into an unfiltered, passionate night that changes everything. ​But Gavin Thorne is keeping more than just a secret affair. ​By day, he rules the ice. By night, he’s a man with a hidden agenda and a dangerous mission that targets the very blood running through Melanie’s veins. In a world of secrets, power, and betrayal, can love survive when the mission is complete? Or was Melanie just a pawn in a game she never knew she was playing?

“You kept dancing for other men, knowing fully well that I was glaring at you. I wanted you to stop, come down from the pole and crawl to me like the slut that you are, but you didn't, did you?” His hands had pushed my panties aside, and flicking a finger through my folds, he let out a dark, primal chuckle. The fact that I couldn't see his face heightened my excitement and fear. I felt both in good measure. “So what are you going to do about it sir?” Lust had clouded my sense of reasoning and it made me bolder. “I'm going to punish you. It's only fair. Don't you think so?” Fuck. The steady rise of my chest went haywire. I had spiraled out of control, out of primal need to please this man. “Yes please, punish me.” I let out a desperate plea. “Good girl.” His deep voice rumbled, and the heavy promises of what he would do to me hung in the air. ……… I fell for my brother's best friend when I was thirteen but he rejected me, patted me on my head and said I was cute. I fell even deeper, but as I grew up and realized how embarrassing I was, my crush turned into hate, until I saw him again for the first time after eight years. He pleasured me for a whole night, and I didn't even realize who he was until the very next day, but it had already happened. Things became awkward and even though I still hated him, I couldn't resist going back for more…

James wasn't your typical writer. He gave a new meaning to Copywriting. His life wasn't great but he was doing well for himself; six figures in his bank account, and a hot neighbour that he had more than one wet dream about. His life was great until he died of course. Now he's stuck in another world with a secret mission. He's ready to spin another new meaning to copywriting.

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”