تسجيل الدخولAmy Kenny’s grip tightens, his fingers pressing into my skin just enough to remind me who’s in charge now. The warning in his eyes sends a rush of heat straight between my thighs, a dark promise wrapped in restraint. Before I can even think, he moves. With a sharp tug, he flips me onto my stomach, his strength, effortless. A gasp slips from my lips as my cheek meets the cool satin sheets. My heart races in my ears as he pins me down, his body a solid, unyielding weight pressing against mine. I hardly get a moment to catch my breath before I feel Lestat’s hands on me—rough yet precise, pulling my wrists behind my back. The sharp click of metal breaks the tense silence as the handcuffs snap around my wrists. Kenny’s breath is hot against my ear, his voice a low growl. "Lets see if this is really what you wanted." I thought I had them where I wanted. Scratch that—they definitely had me. This collection contains highly explicit content, heavy power dynamics, age gaps, and exhibitionist themes intended for mature audiences only. Read when you're alone. Some desires aren't meant to be tamed, they demand to be seen, surrendered to, and pushed to the absolute edge. This scorching collection of short stories pulls back the curtain on the ultimate worlds of the forbidden. From the breathless tension of a massive age gap to the pulse pounding thrill of being watched, every story dives headfirst into the intoxicating realms of control, exhibitionism, voyeurism, domination, submission and deep, dark heat.
عرض المزيدAmy
The wine was sharp on my tongue, too bitter, but I didn’t care. I swallowed it down, welcoming the burning at the back my throat—anything to drown out the simmering humiliation twisting in my stomach. I hated to admit it, but my brother had been right. I could still hear my brother’s voice in my head—low, serious, warning me, “That guy’s an asshole. You’re too good for him.” Dan had always been my protector, the overbearing older brother who never let me forget it. I spent years waiting for the moment I could finally step out of his shadow, to be seen as more than just Dan’s little sister. I thought that moment would arrive when he graduated high school. I dreamed of freedom—making my own choices without my parents or teachers constantly comparing me to their golden boy, their all-star son. But then I got the scholarship, and my parents were over the moon that I’d be attending the same college as him. More years of being his little sister. More years of his overprotectiveness dictating my life. I wanted to show everyone that I could make my own decisions. That I could handle myself. And I had chosen Jake—the smooth, charming, experienced college guy who made me feel like I was more than just a tagalong to my brother’s life. But I had made a mistake. The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. I could still see it, still feel it—the moment I walked into his apartment, all excited, thinking I’d surprise him. I’d worn an outfit he always said he liked. I had even stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbed some of his favorite pastries, because I was that kind of girlfriend—the kind who paid attention, who cared. I had wanted to see him, touch him, feel his arms around me, be with him. Instead, I walked into the sound of her moaning. The realization hit me slowly, like my brain was struggling to process what my eyes were witnessing. Strawberry-blonde hair, flowing down bare back as she straddled him, their bodies fitting together like they were made for each other. His hands gripping her hips, his mouth on her throat, groaning like he couldn’t get enough. The bag of pastries had slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. And then he had turned. He hadn’t even looked guilty. Not at first. There was this flicker of something—annoyance? —before his expression smoothed into a mask of indifference. “Oh,” he had said, like I was just an unexpected guest. Oh. And then, she had turned, too—fucking Miranda, one of the girls from his Econ class. She had smirked at me, smug and unbothered, before curling her fingers into his hair, as if she wanted me to see what they were doing. I had never felt so small in my life. Even now, days later, the embarrassment burned under my skin. I had spent months with him. Giving him my time, my body, my trust. And the whole time, he had probably been sleeping with other girls, laughing behind my back. And the worst part? It all went down right before my birthday. I took another sip, gripping the glass tighter. “Okay,” my best friend’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “I swear to God. If you sit here any longer, moping on your birthday, I’m going to throw this wine directly in your face.” I shot her a glare over the rim of my glass. “I’m not moping.” Blair snorted. “Oh, really? Because from over here, you look like you’re five seconds away from writing bad poetry in your notes app.” I sighed and sank back into the couch. She wasn’t wrong. Blair had been my ride-or-die since freshman year. She had this effortless confidence that got her into VIP sections, free drinks, and out of trouble before it even started. She didn’t do heartbreak. And she sure as hell wasn’t letting me wallow in one. She studied me for a moment, then asked, “Have you even told Dan what happened?” I groaned, pressing my fingers into my temples. “No. And I’m not going to.” Blair blinked. “Are you out of your mind? Why not?” “I don’t need him going all big-brother on me and getting into a fight right before graduation,” I muttered. “Plus, if Dan found out, Kenny and Lestat would jump in and beat Jake’s ass too.” Blair glared at me. “Yeah, I am not really seeing a problem. Fuck Jake.” I sighed again, taking another sip of wine. Kenny and Lestat had been Dan’s best friends since middle school. They were practically family, and if Dan was the overprotective older brother, they were the muscle. Jake wouldn’t stand a chance. And as much as I wanted to him pummeled into the ground, I couldn’t let my brother, or his friends get dragged into trouble because of him. Blair smirked. “Well, I guess that means we have to handle your revenge in a different way.” I rubbed at my temple. “Yeah okay, I am not even sure how I’m supposed to feel right now, let alone think of getting back at him.” “You’re supposed to feel done with him.” She scooted closer, nudging my thigh. “And you’re supposed to be ready to move on.” I let out a dry laugh. “That easy, huh?" “Not easy. But necessary.” She grabbed the bottle of wine from the table, refilling my glass before topping off her own. “Do you know what the perfect revenge is?” I raised an eyebrow. “Please, enlighten me, oh grand master of relationships.” Blair’s grin was wicked. “Fucking someone better.” I choked on my sip of wine, coughing as I set my glass down. “Jesus, Blair.” She just laughed, unfazed. “I’m serious, babe. There is no better way to exorcise an ex than a mind-blowing, toe-curling, body-wrecking fuck.” Leaning in closer, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “And I know just the place.” A slow, nervous heat curled in my stomach. “Where?” Blair’s grin widened. “Fantasies.” I frowned. “Sounds like a sleazy strip club.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not a strip club. It’s a social sex club.” I stared at her, wide-eyed. “A what?” “You heard me.” She tossed back the last of her wine and set the glass down like she was sealing a deal. “It’s classy, exclusive, and the best part? Everyone there is horny and dtf.” I hesitated, picking at the seam of my leggings. “I don’t know…” Blair wasn’t having it. “Babe. It’s your twenty-first birthday. You’re officially in your wild era.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think I have a wild era.” Blair smirked. “Well, I do. And I’m about to drag you into it. I’ve been there plenty of times, its completely legit.” I hesitated, picking at the seam of my leggings. “I’ve never— I mean, I don’t do one-night stands.” “Exactly! That’s what makes this so perfect.” She turned to face me. “No messy expectations. No awkward morning after. You don’t even bring him back here. Just a hot stranger and an empty room—or maybe not so empty.” My heart raced at the thought. A complete stranger. Someone who didn’t know me, who didn’t know my brother. No strings attached. No pressure. Just touch, sensation, and release “I don’t know if I can just… walk into a sex club and do that.” Blair smirked at me. “Oh, honey. You don’t have to do anything. Just walk in with me and let the night unfold.” I bit my lip, memories of my ex flooding back. The way he had touched her. The way she had moaned for him like he belonged to her—like he had never been mine. Fuck that. I exhaled sharply. “Okay.” Blair’s eyes lit up. “Fuck yes.” I grabbed the bottle and took a long swig straight from it. “But I’m not making any promises.” She laughed, standing up and grabbing my hand, pulling me toward my bedroom. “Trust me. Once we get there, you won’t need to.”Gwen“You look nervous,” I said, letting my wine roll across my tongue before I spoke.He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well… I think I’m supposed to be cooler than dead air and fidgeting with my glass.”That laugh wasn’t cocky. It was honest. Maybe the whole tough guy thing was a jacket he wore but hadn’t broken in yet. Or maybe it was just part of the way he protected himself from the world.“You’ve got enough ink to intimidate the bouncer, you could’ve sat here looking mean and mysterious, let the room do the work for you.” I said, lips curling around my glass.“Yeah, well it's my first time at a place like this,” he admitted. Then again, a little quieter, like he was confessing. “Honestly, I was worried I was signing up for an orgy.”That earned a small smile from me. "Is that not what you were looking for?”“Not at all. My illustrious business partner and his girl dragged me here,” he said, tapping his glass against his knee. “Thought it’d be... fun. Which apparently meant ditching me a
GwenI left Emily and Jack behind with a wink and a refill. Emily gave me a look—something between "go get 'em" and "don’t do anything I wouldn’t do," which, let’s be honest, didn’t narrow things down much.Jack just raised his glass in a silent salute, already sliding a hand up Emily’s thigh.I knew they were already making plans of their own for the night.I slipped into the flow of the lounge, headed toward the bar. Heels quiet against the floor, heartbeat not so much. The music throbbed low and seductive, wrapping itself around the room in waves. The crowd shifted around me, a rolling tide of anticipation and heat.At the bar, I found an empty spot, leaned against the counter, and let my eyes scan the room. The lounge and dance floor stretched before me, framed in dim light and sin.From here, you’d never know what this place really was. If you didn’t know what to look for, it could be any high-end lounge in the city. Gorgeous people sipping cocktails. Bodies grinding on the dance
GwenI just watched. Trying to make sense of the ache under my skin. Trying to figure out who I was when no one expected me to be anything at all. When no one was looking to see if I was still the good girl. Still safe. Still small. Some kind of guilt still clung to me like smoke, holding me back, keeping my hands clean.But maybe tonight would be different.Maybe if I let myself fall, I’d finally find where I landed. Maybe Sunday brunch would sting a little less if I spent Friday night pressed to a mattress, wrapped in bruises and the scent of someone else’s sweat. Maybe I’d show up still sore. Still humming with it.And maybe—just maybe—I’d bring cream puffs so full they burst at the seams instead of those neat perfectly square little lemon bars.It had been almost a year since I’d actually been fucked—and let’s be honest, whatever Adam and I did barely qualified. Especially after what I’d seen here. Compared to the things I’d watched in this club, he may as well have been reading
GwenThe moment I stepped through the doors of Fantasies, the air shifted. It always did—like the place knew exactly what you came for and welcomed you with open arms and a wicked grin. The temperature dropped just enough to raise goosebumps, and the scent wrapped around me: leather, sweat, perfume, and something dirtier, something electric.The bass thudded deep in the walls, heavy and primal. The dance floor pulsed with bodies tangled together, drenched in colored light. Reds, purples, blues—each flash slicing through sweat-slick skin and barely-there clothing. Desire moved in waves here, thick as the music, unavoidable.Black leather couches ringed the dance floor, sleek and deliberately placed. Some held people sprawled out, drinks in hand, lips at necks. Others hosted more explicit scenes—hands, mouths, fingers disappearing beneath clothing. Watching wasn’t rude. Watching was expected.At the far side of the room, the bar stretched long and backlit, bottles glowing on mirrored sh


















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