Follow
Chapters
Share
EDEN: Steamy Forbidden Pleasures  Novel Cover

EDEN: Steamy Forbidden Pleasures

⚠️ Warning: [ Smut! Smut! Smut! ahead. For audiences 18yrs and older. Readers discretion is strongly advised. Enter at your own detriment.] He leaned in again, his breath warm and intoxicating on my ear, and he gave me a deep, possessive kiss. "Now," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly promise that settled deep in my core. "Now let Daddy feed you his cock." He straightened up and, with a powerful, smooth motion, reached for the waistband of his faded grey sweatpants. He pulled them down, and as the thin fabric dropped to his ankles, I saw it. His cock. ********************** Welcome to EDEN....or in other words (Paradise): Where Pain is Pleasure👄. Desire is Control😈, and sin lingers like an afterthought. This is a collection of different erotic forbidden tales that are bound to make you drip under the covers. It's not just a book, but a need, a release.....an escape. Contains mature/raw explicit scenes, strong vulgar languages, taboo relationships layered with Bondage, Dominance, Submission, Degradation and Power play dynamics. If this is your kink, I dare you to venture into the forbidden🍏.....
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

A dark, dangerous sound...half growl, half triumph...tore from his throat. My brazenness had clearly pushed him over the edge.

In one swift, primal motion, he pulled my face closer and crashed his lips onto mine.

The kiss wasn't a gentle meeting; it was an act of possession, an urgent, lustful assault. His mouth molded roughly to mine, and he sucked possessively on my lower lip, then my upper, drawing me in as a starved man takes a meal. His tongue plunged in, thick and demanding, swirling fiercely against mine, biting teasingly as our mouths became a mess of hot breath and desperate need.

He devoured my gasp as he finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough for me to see the feral glint in his eyes. I was left gasping for air, the impact and urgency of the moment leaving me dizzy.

He smirked, a slow, sly curve of his lips that was pure predatory satisfaction, and then his eyes trailed down, assessing my lace-clad body on the table.

He didn't hesitate. With a decisive tug, he roughly removed the silk robe I'd cinched around my waist, tossing it aside. I was left exposed in the delicate, flimsy red lingerie. His large hand slid down, cupping my left breast, the thin lace of the push-up bra offering no real barrier. I could feel the heat of his palm, the slight roughening of his skin.

Then, with a sudden, rough grip that caught me by surprise, he took a fistful of the lace and ripped the bra clean apart. The sound of the tearing fabric was shockingly loud, a final surrender to this forbidden night.

My bare breasts spilled out, my nipples instantly painfully hard and pointed for his ravenous glare. Under different circumstances, I knew I should be mortified, embarrassed that my father-in-law was seeing me in this state, my nakedness on full display amid the scattered wreckage of my failed anniversary.

But there was no room for shame. Instead, what coursed through me was an undeniable, white-hot hunger. I felt like a lioness, starved for the feast. I craved every bit of him...his touch, his lips, but most of all, the sight and feel of his thick, veiny cock buried deep in my wet, pink pussy.

His hand now held my breast, his touch turning momentarily gentle, caressing the soft curve of it, feeling the texture of my skin. Then, with a return to his rougher intensity, he used his thumb and index finger to pinch on my hard nipple.

A sharp, breathless moan tore from my throat.

Immediately, his mouth descended. He worked his warm, wet mouth against my peak, latching on and sucking with powerful intent, playfully biting and flicking with his tongue, a dizzying whirlwind of sensation.

At the same time, his other hand tracked the curve of my hip and reached for my core, feeling the dampness through the thong. My eyes fluttered halfway closed, lost to the feel of his tongue on my breast. I was moaning now, arching my hips off the cold wood to meet his rhythm, a plea in my movement.

He freed one nipple with a slurp, then immediately latched onto the other, sucking and biting gently, as his fingers finally found their way to the thin strip of lace. He slid my thong to the side and dipped two large, warm fingers into my dripping pussy, finding the slick, eager entrance immediately.

He began to work his fingers deep inside me, moving them with a practiced, confident rotation. I was biting my lip, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the raw pleasure an unbearable, beautiful agony.

"Please!" I begged, the word ragged and desperate. "Fuck me already! I need to feel you stretch my core."

He let go of my nipple with a final, wet sound and leaned his face close to mine, his eyes molten and dark. He smirked, a devastatingly cruel expression.

"Not yet, Mia," he promised, his voice a low, delicious threat. "It's far too soon." He watched my face as he spoke. "I need to build this up. I'm going to completely shatter you, but you have to wait for it."

The moment he said the words, the pace and intensity of his fingers inside me rocketed. He was moving them in and out with a fierce, punishing rhythm, while his thumb worked the delicate, swollen peak of my clit.

I was bucking, squirming, my toes curling so tight they ached, my hands gripping the edge of the dining table until my knuckles were white. The only sound in the room was the heavy, quickening sound of my breath and the wet, slick sound of my pussy juice on his fingers.

"Do you enjoy that, Mia?" he asked, the question clipped and commanding.

"Yes," I gasped out, breathless.

"Do you want me to do much worse things to you?"

I couldn't speak, so I could only manage a frantic nod, my lips slightly parted, my head thrown back.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice dropping another octave. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," I whispered, the word nearly drowned out by my own moans.

"I can't hear you, Mia. Say it louder. Beg for it."

The word came unbidden, a primal, shameful plea that was purely instinctual. "Yes, Daddy! Please fuck me, Daddy!"

That was the magic word. Seeing me beg, watching me shatter under his touch, fueled him.

He clenched his fingers into a rough fist and drove it in and out of me, still brushing his thumb against my clit. It was too much. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, a burning, exquisitely painful knot deep in my belly.

I threw my head back and screamed the words, "Fuck, I'm cumming!"

His face was a mask of dark, exhilarating triumph. "Don't you dare," he commanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through my climax.

"I can't take it anymore!" I cried, my body shaking violently on the table.

Then, with a vicious snap, he snatched his fingers out of me.

The sudden emptiness, the brutal, immediate absence, left me completely shattered, a wreck of unspent tension and frustration. I lay panting on the cool wood, my body humming with a frustrated, agonizing energy.

He leaned in again, his breath warm and intoxicating on my ear, and he gave me a deep, possessive kiss. "Now," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly promise that settled deep in my core. "Now let Daddy feed you his cock."

He straightened up and, with a powerful, smooth motion, reached for the waistband of his faded grey sweatpants. He pulled them down, and as the thin fabric dropped to his ankles, I saw it.

His cock.

It was thick and veiny, already slicked at the tip with a pre-ejaculate that glistened in the soft candlelight. It was truly long, imposing....a powerful weapon of pleasure and destruction.

The sight of it sent a dizzying rush of excitement and raw terror through me. My throat constricted, and I could only gulp, my eyes wide and glued to the immense, forbidden promise now standing proudly between my spread thighs.

The waiting was over.

You may also like

Beauty In The Boy's Dorm  Novel Cover
8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?" A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes. "Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?" I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me. "The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?" Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
Chamber: An Esports Romance  Novel Cover
7.2
Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team. A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster. Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life. But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout. Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near. He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain. During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand. Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff. Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal. If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him? Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride? Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers. "He's asking if you are in love with me." Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.
Fated to My Father's Killer Novel Cover
7.4
"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!" The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls. But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak. She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father. Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate. *** Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed. She thought he was her destiny. Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders. One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes. Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming. An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk. For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed. Because the man who destroyed her life? The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands? He was her fated mate. Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him. But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade. "You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you." And when he does? He won't just cage her body. He'll claim her soul.
Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens Novel Cover
9.0
I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.
My Ex Became My Sister-in-Law Novel Cover
9.0
On the day Izabella Dobson learned she was two months pregnant, she was also diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. Sitting in the taxi, the doctor's words echoed in her ears again. "Miss Dobson, your body is weaker than most. An abortion now would accelerate the cancer. You have only three months left. Why not go home and discuss chemotherapy with your family? You're still so young..." Izabella folded the report and slipped it into a hidden compartment in her bag. She let out a soft, bitter laugh. Ever since her father pressured her into a marriage of convenience with Carson's brother, a terminally ill man, for familial obligations, she had lost her family. Her husband had long passed away, and Carson harbored a deep-seated resentment towards her. As revenge, he publicly declared he would marry her stepsister. He was eager to witness her suffering, waiting for her to express regret. Yet, little did he know that on their wedding day, Izabella, frail and serene, lay in her hospital bed with her eyes gently closing. Carson, we can finally release each other from this pain...
Orchestrated Accidents: A Heiress's Revenge Novel Cover
8.9
They told me one of them would be my husband. Seven men, groomed by my father to be part of our music empire. I only ever wanted one: Devon Valenzuela, the band's brilliant, brooding lead singer. But the night I caught him kissing his "sister," Delilah, I learned the devastating truth. The seven of them weren't rivals for my hand; they were a pack, united in a secret pact to protect her. I was just a variable in their game. They orchestrated "accidents" to keep me dependent-a near-miss in the studio, a fall from my horse that left me with a broken leg. Devon played the part of the doting fiancé perfectly, nursing me back to health. Then I overheard him confessing to another band member. "It was the only way to get her attention," he said. "The bone breaking… that was an accident. Not part of the plan." At my 21st birthday party, he humiliated me by broadcasting a video of my most private confessions of love for him to all our guests. But he didn't know I had a video of my own-one that would expose his precious Delilah and tear their entire world apart.