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Yes Sir: Steamy BL Shorts You shouldn’t want it this bad. You definitely shouldn’t be leakíng just thinking about it. But when the man who controls your apartment / your job / your car keys steps too close and says “On your knees. Now.” your body betrays you before your brain can catch up. These aren’t love stories. They’re short, fílthy lessons in what happens when a younger boy forgets who’s in charge. He pins your wrists above your head. He spreads you with rough fingers first — then with something much thicker. He pucks you until your legs give out, until you’re crying into the sheets/car hood/desk, until you’re so fúll of him that every step afterward reminds you who you belong to tonight. One word unlocks everything: “Yes, Sir.” And once you say it… you don’t get to take it back. Standalone. Addictive. Filthy. You’re going to read one chapter and immediately need the next.

"You wanna gеt fuckеd likе a good girl?” I askеd, voicе low. Shе smilеd. “I’m not a good girl.” I growlеd. “No. You’rе not.” Shе gaspеd as I slammеd into hеr in onе thrust, burying mysеlf all thе way. “Damian—!” I covеrеd hеr mouth with my hand. “Bе quiеt,” I hissеd in hеr еar. “You don’t want Mommy to hеar, do you?” Hеr еyеs widеnеd. I pullеd out slow—thеn slammеd back in hard. Shе moanеd against my hand. “God, you’rе so tight,” I groanеd. “You wеrе madе for this cock.” Hеr lеgs wrappеd around mе, pulling mе dееpеr. I prеssеd my hand hardеr against hеr mouth, muffling thе sounds of hеr criеs as I thrust into hеr again and again. Thе bеd crеakеd. Hеr body shook. “Thought I wouldn’t find out you wеrе a littlе slut for mе,” I growlеd. “Kissing mе. Riding my facе. Acting so damn innocеnt.” *** Naked Pages is a compilation of thrilling, heart throbbing erotica short stories that would keep you at the edge in anticipation for more. It's loaded with forbidden romance, domineering men, naughty and sex female leads that leaves you aching for release. From forbidden trysts to irresistible strangers. Every one holds desires, buried deep in the hearts to be treated like a slave or be called daddy! And in this collection, all your nasty fantasies would be unraveled. It would be an escape to the 9th heavens while you beg and plead for more like a good girl. This erotica compilation is overflowing with scandalous scenes ! It's intended only for adults over the age of 18! And all characters are over the age of 18.

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

On the eve of her engagement, Jade Moretti thought the worst thing she would face was cold feet. She was wrong. When she walks into her fiancé’s penthouse, she finds him in bed with her step-sister. Humiliated and desperate, Jade runs to the only man who should protect her—her father. But he chooses business over blood. With her name dragged through scandal and her future destroyed overnight, Jade is forced into a world where power is the only currency that matters. That is where she meets Killian Montclair. Cold. Strategic. Untouchable. Killian doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control. And he offers Jade a deal that could save her… and ruin her. A contract marriage. No feelings. No attachment. No mistakes. But when Jade becomes a part of Killian’s life, she discovers he isn’t only fighting business rivals—he’s fighting ghosts, a ruthless ex, and a custody battle that could destroy everything he built. And the more Jade plays the role of wife… the more real it starts to feel. In a marriage built on lies and contracts, Jade must decide: Will she remain bound by an agreement… or risk her heart for a man who was never meant to love?

By the time I return home from a business trip, it is past midnight. However, my wife, Celeste Beaumont, isn't home. A man's shirt that isn't mine is lying on the couch. When I call her, she tells me that she's working late at the office. "Whose shirt is it on the couch?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. She playfully scolds, "Who else would it be? It's a gift for you, so hurry up and try it on." I skeptically put it on and immediately feel how tight and uncomfortable it is across my shoulders. "This is an L, babe. I've always worn XL." Celeste runs a clothing company. She's the one who handles all my clothes and even uses my body measurements for her menswear line. There's no way she doesn't know my size. The line goes quiet for half a second before she thoughtfully says, "It's from my new menswear collection. "I had pieces custom-made for you and Felix, so I must've grabbed the wrong piece. I'll swap it tomorrow." A beat later, her voice carries a little sob as she continues, "Babe, I've been so exhausted without you these past few days. I've missed you so much…" It's past midnight. As I listen to the undeniable weariness beneath her affectionate, playful words, my heart aches in distress. I can't help chiding myself for overthinking. However, after hanging up, realization hits me. Her brother, Felix Beaumont, and I are about the same build. He's always worn XL.

The day before our wedding, I received an expensive suit from my wife. Not long after, her young lover called me, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. My bad for mixing up your size. Please… please don't blame Sylvie." On the other end, I could hear Sylvie soothing him gently, patiently, until he calmed down. I stared at the plane ticket in my hand—a one-way trip out of the country—and calmly asked her for a divorce. Then, as if I no longer mattered, she left me with a single, cold sentence. "Just don't regret it."