WET DESIRES WITH MY KINGS
"You don't know what to do? Rub it, baby," he murmured, his voice sending tingling shock straight to my already aching core.
*****
The Silas brothers, all of them want me, and all of them need me. They take me brutally, wild and possessive, filling every part of me.
Even though it hurts and leaves me sore, I love it and the craziest part? I craved it even more than they do.
Every single day, I want them stretching me, digging into me, and owning me. But I never wanted this. My father forced me to work here to raise money for my sick sister.
I tried to stay focused on the job, but the moment Vlad touched me, I felt something I had never experienced before, not even the pleasure I found on my own fingers could compare.
I lost all control. Then came Rurik, he gave me a kind of ecstasy that nearly drove me mad, making me ready to surrender my virginity to him right then and there.
But then, there is him. Cold and withdrawn, he wants me all to himself. And I love him. He was my first love, the only one I ever planned to give virginity to.
But now I realize I can't choose just one man, I want him to join the Silas brothers and own me alongside them.
Little did I know, he isn't who I thought he was. A one shocking revelation that tore me apart.
WARNING: This book contains raw adults' scenes with mature words and flesh mushing. If this is your genre, hop in with your popcorn....
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Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I opened my mouth and tried to take his length in, but he was too long. I could barely manage three or four inches. Just as I tried to pull back, his grip tightened on my hair, and before I realized what he was doing, he shoved his cock into my mouth in one rough thrust.
This was the man who had promised to be gentle.
"Yes!" he grunted, switching his right hand on my hair to his left, while his right hand came to rest on his waist.
My eyes widened and tears welled up, but the feeling of him hitting the back of my throat made my pussy quiver and throb. I felt an intense need to be fucked by him mercilessly.
"Oh Mira, you're fucking sweet!" He let out a groan of pleasure, his grip on my hair tightening with every thrust.
He paused, looking down at me with a smile before continuing. His cock throbbed in my mouth, and his own mouth hung open, an indication of just how much pleasure he was getting from fucking my face.
Both of his hands now gripped my hair, and my hands fell to his hips as he sped up the pace.
"Yes! Urrgh... Fuck! You're so sweet, Mira!" His ecstatic grunts filled the air. My wet pussy quivered again, and I moaned on his cock.
"You're so fucking sweet! I love how you take it! Yeah! Take that dick, Mira! Take it rough! Fuck it, baby!" He bit his lower lip and threw his head back, grunting loudly while I moaned on his veiny cock. My pussy tingled and throbbed.
I felt shivers I'd never felt before. Fuck! I wanted him so badly. I wanted to slide his cock inside my pussy this minute. I wanted to feel what it was like to have him dig my pussy mercilessly.
"Mira! I'm about to cum! Mira!" His body was slick with sweat now and he looked incredibly handsome and sultry, his mouth open as moans escaped that made my heart leap.
His pace suddenly quickened, his grip on my hair so tight I thought he might pull it out. The pleasure I felt increased with his, and I tightened my grip on his hips. Vlad was fucking good, fucking hot, and I was sure this wouldn't be the last time I tasted him.
"Yes!" He grunted, releasing a thick, warm liquid that splattered across my face. He then fell heavily onto the bed behind him.
My vision cleared, and I suddenly realized I'd walked into the wrong room. This was Vlad's room.
I sprang to my feet, his cum dripping down my face. The wave of lust disappeared instantly, replaced by a scorching shame. I threw the door open and ran out.
*****
~NORA~
Immediately after the call ended with Mira, and I heard Mr. Femriss's voice in the background telling her to pack her things, I knew he was up to something again. He is determined to ruin Mira's life for a past she knows nothing about, and I am going to make sure he doesn't succeed.
Even though Mira doesn't acknowledge my efforts to save her, I won't stop. Last night, she pushed me down in front of everyone, strangers stared at me in a way that made me feel so ashamed. But I won't stop trying, she is simply ignorant of what is happening to her. I must bring her to the truth so she can be free once I have the information I need.
Right now, I have to stop Mr. Femriss from taking her away. I know he's using her again to satisfy his own selfish desires.
I dressed quickly, grabbed my handbag, and was about to leave when my mother walked into the room.
"Where are you going?" she asked, looking me over from head to toe.
"Mira needs me right now, Mom. I have to go. Please," I said, trying to move past her, but she pulled me back sharply.
"I've told you to stay away from that family. Why are you trying to drag us into trouble, Nora?" my mother said, her voice growing sad.
"Mom, Mira is in trouble, and you know we're the only ones who can help her. Why are you holding back? Can't you see she's wasting away?"
"That is not your business, Nora. Stay away from the Femriss family. I want to live long enough to take care of you, to see you become who you want to be," she said, her eyes searching mine. "We can't help her. We're not rich enough."
"No, Mom. We don't need money to help her, we need evidence. Give me what you have and let me fight this myself. Just watch me win," I said, determination burning in my voice. But she said nothing. She only stared into my eyes.
The room fell silent, our breaths the only sound, until she finally spoke again.
"You're all I have left, Nora, after your father was killed. The Femriss family is evil. They always get what they want. I don't want to lose you," she cried, and it broke my heart. But I couldn't back down.
"Do they always get what they want? Then it ends with me, Mom. This time, something has to be done," I said, taking her hand.
My mother knew everything about the Femriss family I needed to save Mira and she had the evidence. She was also a victim of one of Mr. Femriss's wicked operations. I found out the truth the first day I brought Mira home after school. My mother had told me to stay away from her, and when I refused to do so without a reason, she gave me a glimpse of the truth. I have been restless ever since.
For three years, I have been begging her to give me the evidence. She had it all, but she's scared to die, scared to lose me, and scared of Mr. Femriss. But I am not scared of anyone. I believed that one day he will go down and Mira will be free.
"It hurts me to see my friend suffer when I know I can help her. To stay silent is wickedness. We're no different from the Femriss family if we keep holding back. Please, Mom," I pleaded. My mother stayed silent, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I know you're trying to protect us, but I have no peace. She is emotionally and physically abused, her dreams are shattered and her beautiful skin is scarred. And now Freya is teaching her how to drink, teaching her to be a drunk just to forget the pain she caused."
"You don't know what Femriss is capable of doing to his enemies, Nora. He is always one step ahead of anyone coming for him," she flung my hand off, turning to leave, but I held her back.
"Three years, Mother. Three years since I heard what happened to Freya, and I have not been at peace. I'm unhappy. I can't sleep, I can't even concentrate in school. If you truly care about me, you'll help Mira."
She stared at me silently, then walked toward her room. I followed her.
"I will tell you and show you all you need to know. I will give you the evidence you seek, but on one condition," my mom said as we stepped inside her room.
My heart leaped with joy. I had finally won this argument after three years. Mira would be saved. And Freya... oh, I couldn't wait to see her wither away.
"What's the condition?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before she replied. "You will not do it yourself. You will present the evidence to people who can handle it without Mr. Femriss knowing we are involved."
I wasn't sure how I'd manage that, but I nodded. I'd do anything for that information.
She moved toward her wardrobe, reached under a heap of clothes, and pulled out a tiny box and placed it on the desk. Just as she was about to open it, three masked men burst into the room. One of them struck my mother on the head with a gun, and she collapsed.
I screamed, but my voice was cut short as one of them covered my mouth and blindfolded me. I struggled, but he was too strong. My legs left the floor as he carried me out and tossed me into a car.
I kept struggling, kicking and hitting, until I heard a familiar voice.
"You stupid thing," the voice spat. A hard punch landed on my face, and everything went black.
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
7.8
The moment I saw my husband massaging his dead brother's pregnant mistress's feet, I knew my marriage was over.
He moved her into our home under the guise of "family duty," forcing me to watch as he prioritized her comfort over our vows.
The final betrayal came when she stole and deliberately broke my mother's priceless necklace.
When I slapped her for the desecration, my husband struck me across the face to defend her.
He had violated a sacred honor code by putting his hands on the daughter of another Don-an act of war.
I looked him in the eye and swore on my mother's grave that I would bring a bloody revenge upon his entire family.
Then I made one phone call to my father, and the demolition of his empire began.
7.4
I was the wife of Damien Valenti, the most ruthless mafia Don in Chicago.
But to cement his power and marry a rival family's daughter, he exiled me to the slums without a single dime.
"Stay not as my wife, Izzy, but as my whore."
That was his final ultimatum before dumping me out of his black SUV like trash.
Terrified of losing me, my five-year-old son, Angelo, secretly hid in the car to follow me.
Two days later, in a squalid Indiana motel, Angelo caught severe pneumonia.
I had no money and no doctor. In sheer desperation, I sliced my own wrist with broken glass, pressing my bleeding arm to his pale lips, begging him to drink and live.
But my little boy died in my arms.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Damien was sipping vintage champagne with his new bride, casually dismissing the life of his own flesh and blood.
The grief turned me into a monster. I spent twenty years clawing my way through the underworld to destroy his empire, only to die with a bullet in my chest.
I gave him my absolute devotion, yet he traded our family for political power without a single ounce of hesitation.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hellish neon-lit motel room.
Angelo was burning with fever and fighting for air, but he was still breathing.
This time, I wasn't the naive girl who loved Damien Valenti. I was a woman holding two decades of their darkest secrets, and my vendetta had just begun.
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.
9.3
WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION.
(BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES)
Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go.
***
"Get on your knees," Nero said.
"Excuse me-"
"You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees."
"Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."
8.1
**WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT 21+**
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My name doesn't matter. My filthy urges do. I came home from work. The bedroom door was half open. My husband was there, pounding into some woman on our bed, his c**k slamming in and out, deep and rough.
I should have screamed. Instead my p**sy clenched hard. I stood frozen, watching every thrust. My hand slipped under my skirt on its own. Fingers circled my cl*t as he f**ked her right in front of me.
He glanced over. "You like watching my c**k stretch her?" I rubbed faster.
"Don't stop," I whispered. Then I came shaking, eyes locked on him pounding her.
***
69 Dripping Fantasies is sixty-nine raw taboo stories. Wives catching husbands cheating and getting soaked instead of angry. Step-family secrets whispered in quiet. Glory holes that fill fast. Honeymoon wife swaps sparked by one dumb dare. Older rich men taking total control. Professors crossing every forbidden line. Husband's best friends sneaking in. Strangers who follow, then f**k hard. Group nights in dark clubs. Cucks cleaning up every last drop.
***
I'm on my knees. One thick c**k buried deep in my throat, making me gag. The woman behind me squeezes my t*ts until it hurts so good. Her tongue between my ass, teasing, no c**k has filled my p**sy or a*s yet. But I'm trembling, dripping, seconds from squirting everywhere. Two massive black c**ks wait their turn, and her presence makes it filthier... hotter.
I never knew I craved this so badly.
***
No soft romance. Just dirty yeses where no should be. Sixty-nine stories. Sixty-nine surrenders. Read if you're brave. These pages might leave you wet, jealous, horny... or secretly think of your own filthy fantasies when nobody's watching. Reader discretion is strongly advised.