Belly Trample Novels & Stories

Hi lovely Readers, here's the author. Thank you for reading to the end of this book, and a new book is about to start. Enough spoilers, read on to know what happens. Don't forget to leave your comments. XoXo. "I need to come," I tell her. "Please... yes..." "Come with me..." I drop her to her back and lower myself back in position. My belly presses to hers, and her pretty little nipples feel so sweet against my chest. "I can't..." she whispers. "I'm so... fluttery..." "You can," I tell her. "I promise you, you can." I pause. "And you will. Again, Ashley. Come for me again." I rub, back and forth, my dick pinned between my stomach and her pussy, grinding hard, taking so much fucking care not to spear that tight little cunt and fill her up with my cum. "I'm gonna come all over your sweet little pussy, Ashley." "Yes..." she whispers. "Oh God, please... please, Mr. Mancini..." "Don't call me that," I growl, and I'm on the edge, right on the fucking edge. "What shall I call you?" she asks, and I hear it in her voice, I hear she's thinking it, too. It's in the little tremor, the sweet little hint of lust. My breath is erratic, my cock pulsing as my balls tighten, ready to fucking blow. And I say it. I just fucking say it. "Call me Daddy," I growl. "You can call me Daddy."

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

I’m Bella, a plus-size fashion influencer who smiles for the camera and tells thousands of followers to love their curves. But behind closed doors? My husband Ryan tears me down every single day. He calls me fat, disgusting, and refuses to touch me. I felt worthless… until I hired Marcus, my personal trainer. In my own words, it started as innocent home workouts. Then the tension snapped. One sweaty squat session turned into the hottest kiss of my life, and suddenly I was moaning Marcus’s name while my husband was at work. Every session gets riskier and hotter. I feel truly desired for the first time in years, but the guilt and danger keep growing. My followers notice my glowing confidence. Ryan starts paying attention again. And Marcus’s wife is getting suspicious. This book is extremely explicit. Expect raw, high-heat romance scenes packed with sweat, domination, and intense pleasure. Marcus doesn’t hold back because of my weight, rough pounding from behind while I’m bent over the workout bench, passionate mirror body claiming, shower scenes, risky quickies, and long, filthy sessions filled with dirty talk, spanking, hair-pulling, choking, and multiple explosive orgasms. He worships my thick thighs, soft belly, and heavy chest in ways my husband never did. Cliffhangers will leave you breathless, close calls, near discoveries, police cases, court rooms. If you love forbidden cheating stories, dominant men, plus-size heroines finally claimed, and addictive erotic drama, then dive in. My story is messy, sweaty, and completely addictive.

The fake heiress, Jean Shore, has left a suicide note prior to taking her own life. In the note, she claims that I'm the one who killed her. In order to make me admit my crime, my parents has sent me to an institution as a human test subject. Every day, I'm forced to endure inhuman torture of all sorts. Needless to say, I'm in so much pain that I choose to secretly take some poison in order to kill myself. But my enraged older brother, Sebastian Shore, saves my life. With bloodshot eyes, he yanks me by the hair while yelling at me. "The pain that you've gone through isn't even a thousandth of the pain Jean had endured! You don't have the right to die!" I can only obey Sebastian numbly. But soon, I get sent to the restricted area. There, my belly swells with life, only for me to lose it some time later. Finally, I've learned my lesson and become docile. No matter what anyone asks me, I keep admitting that I'm a vile woman who has killed Jean. My parents burst into delighted tears. Sebastian can't wait to have me sent to the court, where I will be sentenced for my crime. He tells me, "As long as you admits your crime and go through the punishment, we'll forgive you." I say yes in an obedient manner. I know that my family wants me to be sentenced to death. But what they don't know is that I can't live long enough for the death sentence to be carried out.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

I was carrying the heir to the Gerald bloodline when my husband threw me out into the freezing rain for his 'true mate.' I thought my life was over—until the ultrasound revealed not one, but two heartbeats... and I woke up in the bed of his deadliest rival." For three years, I played the silent, obedient wife to Alpha Elec, only to be discarded the moment he secured his empire. He told me I was nothing but a replica for the woman he actually wanted—the one whos now returning to claim his side. Left to die in the streets with his secret twins growing inside me, I was rescued by the last man I ever expected to see. Alpha Pedro of the Nightfall Pack. He is ruthless, heavily tattooed, and Elecs absolute worst enemy. He should have destroyed me. Instead, the moment his skin brushed mine, a fated bond snapped into place so violently it brought the heartless Alpha to his knees. Now, I am trapped and caught in a terrifying web of primal obsession and pack politics. Pedro demands I submit to the bond, his protective jealousy igniting every time the dangerously charming Alpha Valerius visits, offering me a peaceful life in the shadows. Two powerful, lethal Alphas are ready to burn the continent to the ground just to claim my attention. But the past refuses to stay buried. When rumors of my survival—and my glowing, pregnant belly—reach the Gerald Pack, Elec's perfect new marriage crumbles. Consumed by a maddening, obsessive regret, my ex-husband is now tearing the world apart to hunt me down. He is desperate to reclaim the "barren"wife he threw away and the twin heirs he never knew existed.

The moment I find out about my pregnancy, a notification from Twitter is displayed on my phone. Apparently, it's a tweet posted by my husband, Don Romano Caliendo's childhood friend, Teresa Fiorino. "Thanks to your sperm, I get to have a child of my own during the last stage of my life." The accompanying photo is a pregnancy test that clearly states that the sperm donor is Romano. I leave a question mark in the comment section. In just half a minute, my phone begins ringing loudly. Romano's angry voice bursts from the loudspeakers immediately. I've only heard him adapt such a tone whenever he gets mad at others during family meetings. "What did you mean by that comment, Selene Gardo? Teresa is dying from cancer! All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company before she breathes her last! Don't you have any sympathy for her at all?" Before I can put down my phone, my Twitter homepage gets refreshed. This time, Teresa has uploaded another photo. It features a luxurious deluxe-style apartment, where the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the breathtaking cityscape of Brindleport at night. The caption reads, "Thank you for giving me a home so that I don't feel lonely in my final days." In a corner of the photo, Romano can be seen crouching on the floor while piecing a baby cot together. His side profile shows how focused he is on the task. As I wipe my tears from the corners of my eyes, I silently caress my flat belly, which has yet to show any changes. I'll take you far, far away from here, my dear baby.

At four months pregnant, I went to pick up my prenatal test results with my husband, Aiden Carter, who was an OB-GYN. The smile at the corner of his lips froze the moment he saw the report. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and tried to schedule an abortion. I stood there in shock. The attending physician, Dr. Marianne Cole, had just told me the baby was perfectly healthy! I tore myself free and demanded, "Why do you want me to get an abortion?!" He didn’t answer and had already scheduled the procedure. When I tried to run, he yanked my arm tighter. "There's no way we are having this child!" Clutching my belly, I hurried to call my parents, who were both OB-GYNs themselves. Dad, who had always doted on me, raised his fist, aiming straight for my stomach. Mom’s face twisted in horror, shaking her head wildly. "No, this won’t work. It can’t be like this." "Find a few men. Lock Clara Hart in with them." I didn’t understand why they were so desperate to destroy my child. All I wanted was to escape. Instead, they locked me inside a pitch-black room. When I felt the blood trickling down my legs, I knew my baby was gone. Mom came smiling to fetch me. I fought, demanding to know why they had done this to me. Without responding, she turned around and sent me straight to Ravenwood Asylum. I was tortured to death there. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I went to collect my prenatal report. Aiden looked at me, his face glowing with joy. "Baby, this is our first child. I can’t wait for the day he’s born."

His sinful hands traveled to her waist as she looked at him; her breath hitched as he traced her belly button “You are so vulnerable right now,” his gaze landed on the gunshot wound on her chest, just between her breasts. The fact that she was not wearing a bra right now was very distracting. Even with the scar she was so beautiful. “So are you,” he whispered keeping the gun in her hands. The heat of their graze did not help with the hot atmosphere of the room; this was deadly. “We can’t deceive both agencies,” her murmur was soft, unlike the sound of his harsh breathing. “We can, we will,” He looked straight into her eyes as her lips trembled. So unlikely of the girl she was. “It's a matter of two countries,” she whispered, her last straw against him, she knew she would give up if he had an answer to this. That she would let go of the lust suffocating her insides after this. “It's a matter of two hearts,” her eyes snapped to his immediately. “I can't seem to forget the little girl who took a bullet for me,” He said as her lips parted in shock. “You… knew?” she could not form more words. He could not find himself to answer anything else than a nod, he was deceiving her in the name of love. ‘Ya Allah, why do I have to do this?’ she asked her god taking her eyes away from him for a second. “It's the matter of two hearts, two bodies, two souls…” and two deceivers, the word they both so wanted to add but couldn’t. “Have me,” He whispered. “Take me,” she obliged In which she deceived him before he could deceive her

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.