Loud Moaning Novels & Stories

When we're playing cards during the holidays, my cousin, Owen Thompson, suddenly calls it boring and tells us that he wants to make a big gamble. Then, he tosses his BMW keys onto the table and asks if we're bold enough to follow up with our own bets. I know that Owen is just trying to flaunt the fact that he's bought himself a BMW. Everyone is stunned by his antics. They quickly say, "This is just a game. We're not going to bet anything else." After that, they start complimenting how amazing Owen is to be able to own a BMW at such a young age. I, on the other hand, hesitate to do so. After all, my trump cards are a set of Ks. Having gotten his ego boosted by the compliments, Owen is about to flush the deck when I put my car keys belonging to a cheaper, rundown car. Then, I mumble, "I'm going to follow up with a bet of my own." Everyone falls silent at my statement. They just stare at me in disbelief, whereas Owen widens his eyes out of shock. Almost immediately, things grow heated between us. The moment both of us place our car keys onto the betting table, our feeble relationship as cousins is quick to vanish. But I don't regret my decision. Owen is the one who has decided to bet his BMW, after all. Since he's capable of being this ruthless toward his own relatives, I might as well not give a damn about his feelings at all. Owen lets out a cold chuckle before saying, "How much do you have in that pocket of yours, huh? You really think you can scare me, chump? I have a BMW, for crying out loud! You should gather more money first before placing your bet! Don't go around scamming others with just a shitty car!"

I've always been one who doesn't express many emotions. That is, until I've married Vanessa Tate. But the happy life I look forward to living doesn't come to me. Instead, all I see is Vanessa cheating on me with other men to her heart's content. When she brings another man home for the seventh time and fills the guest room with loud moans, I walk over to the door and knock on it gently. Even my tone is soft and tender. "My bedtime is between 10:00 pm to 8:00 am the next morning. As long as you keep the noise level down and don't disturb my sleep, I can pretend that this never happened." The door is opened from the inside, and Vanessa struts out. She casts me a nonchalant glance. "Got it." Her languid voice is tinged with impatience. "I'll keep it down. You should rest in your room instead of standing in the corridor in the middle of the night." The young man, who's a new boy toy of Vanessa's, leans against the bedpost. He leaves his collar open purposefully as he says to me in a taunting manner, "You really are composed. No wonder Vanessa keeps claiming that you're the most gracious husband in the whole wide world." I merely smile wanly, not bothering to give the boy toy an ounce of my attention. After returning to the master bedroom, I take the liberty to send the photo I've just taken to my mother-in-law, Evelyn Sinclair. "Mom, I already told you that Vanessa will never be able to control her urges, and yet you refuse to believe me. "We already made it clear that you'll have to pay me 100 million dollars every time she cheats on me with a man. I hope that you can stick to your end of the bargain."

“You think I'm going to force you to take my seed?” he growled, angry at the mere insinuation of it. “I… I thought…” “Look here bambi,” he bent down to my level, gray eyes weakening me, “I am many wicked things but nothing will ever make me force a woman into my bed. In fact,” he stood up and headed towards the door before turning to look at me again, “for this, I have decided you're going to be the one to beg me to fuck your virgin cunt. I won't give you what you need until you're on your knees, desperately begging for my cock.” I nearly rolled my eyes but he was still looking at me but deep in my mind, I was sticking my tongue out to him. If he thinks I'm going to let him touch me, beg him to, he's a joker. *** Maya has survived seventeen years of being unwanted. Her birth killed her mother and her father has never failed to remind her how much he hates her existence. Rejected by her mate on her eighteenth birthday and sold to a stranger by the same evening — she has nothing left to lose. Except her pride. And Caden Rhyndar, the most feared Alpha in the West, has decided that's exactly what he wants. He won't force her to have his child or his cock. He doesn't need to. He'll just wait, while doing wicked things that leave her body begging for more, never out loud though. But surviving forced proximity to a man built like a weapon, who looks at her like she's the only thing worth conquering, that's a war Maya isn't sure her body will let her win. She swore she'd never beg. He's never lost a battle in his life.

“Let me see how much of a virgin you are. Let me know how quiet you can be when I tear your cunt apart.” And I almost called him, “Bastard!” He doesn’t need legs to break you. He doesn’t need your voice to own you. Ivan Petrov is the Don of the Bratva Sever, ruthless, calculating, and far more dangerous than the wheelchair he uses as a mask. Once a husband. Still a father. But love died with his wife. When Vanya is traded like cheap cargo to settle her father’s debts, she’s thrown into his cold, luxurious cage. A mute girl with ghosts in her eyes and fire she can’t speak. He sees her as another pawn sent to spy, another toy to shatter. He doesn’t want a wife. He wants to rip her silence apart. To force those virgin thighs wide, to make her body betray every secret she can’t voice, to watch her shatter on his cock while she claws at the truth she’s not allowed to scream. She thought marriage would be her prison. He intends to make her his favorite obsession: his fucktoy, his slut. In a world of blood-stained marble, poisoned secrets, and a Don who hides his strength like a loaded gun, one silent girl is about to learn exactly how loud her body can get when the beast decides to play. Will Vanya’s silence save her… or will Ivan drag screams she never knew she had straight from her throat? Viewer Discretion Advised 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🔞🔞 ☠️ Dark mafia romance. Intense power, forced proximity, virgin breaking, degradation, and raw explicit filth. Heavy on the heat, 10% plot. Not for the soft-hearted. Enter Ivan Petrov’s world only if you’re ready to get wrecked.

Noelle Carter thought she left her mistakes in Santorini. After catching her fiancé cheating, she escapes on a ten-day solo trip with no plans. Just space to breathe. That’s where she meets Roman. No last names. No questions. That was the deal. But Roman doesn’t feel like a mistake. He feels like clarity. They talk for hours, stay up too late, and fall into easy, consuming Sex. With him, Noelle is fearless, sharing truths she’s never spoken out loud, because it’s safe when she's never going to see him again. When she leaves, she’s lighter. A little sad, but okay. Missing him feels harmless,after all, how much damage can a memory do? She’s wrong. Days later, at an event, she sees him again. Roman Ashford. Her ex-fiancé’s estranged stepbrother. Five years abroad, now back and looking at her like he already knows everything. Because he does. Noelle wants to run. Roman doesn’t let her. He remembers Santorini. Every conversation. Every touch. Every moment she let herself unravel. And he has no intention of pretending it never happened. Within weeks, he buys her company just to keep her close. Noelle tells herself it’s too complicated. The family tension is already fragile. Getting involved would be reckless. She almost believes it. Then she misses her cycle. She's not pregnant. At a family event, Roman’s mother and Noelle’s father come face to face and it’s clear they share a past no one ever spoke about. Then someone said Roman and Noelle look… similar. What if the problem isn’t just complicated but forbidden? The truth unravels slowly, then all at once. They are not related. They never were. The reason Noelle held onto is gone. And Roman is done waiting.

" You wish it was you screaming my name, don't you? " He asked while locking me in place with his gaze. “ I don’t know what you're talking about.” I defended. I clutched the wall behind me as he moved closer with his hand on the door above my head. Our bodies were inches apart and it was getting harder to concentrate because of his bare chest that was muscular and covered with ink. " Tell me principessa, do you think of me when you trail your fingers down your stomach and between your thighs? Do you think of me as you work yourself trying to reach the brick of euphoria? Do you imagine it's my fingers as you work faster to ease the ache between your thighs? Do you scream my name as your walls clench around your digits and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you ? " " you! " I screamed, ignoring the loud thumping of my heart against my chest. " You see, I know girls like you. You've been sheltered all your life and you crave some rebellion. Tattoos, muscular, bad boy, and an Italian accent are your undoing, right? That's all it takes to have you drooling and fawning. I'm I right, principessa? " “ You know nothing about me! " I screamed and he chuckled. “ Oh, but I do. I can smell your arousal begging me to pin you to this wall and show just how much I can make your weep for me. " He whispered in my ear. She's fire and he's ice. Sicily holds many secrets but is Brianna ready for the ones Nikolai has to offer? A life of crime, gunfire, and passion is not what she signed up for. Can she handle the enigma that is Nikolai?

His mouth dropped to my neck, luscious lips skimming down until he licked the wound in my shoulder. His mark. I shivered out of raw desire. "The Alphas are outside this door. You're keeping them waiting." My voice sounded more like a moan. "They can wait." He stared at me through his long lashes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "You're liking this, aren't you?" He pulled my waist to him till I felt every ridge of his hard, strong body. His stiff rod dug into my back. "Feel that?" he pushed me closer, "Ever fucked a full-spirited Lycan on a full moon?" He mumbled into my ear and let out a chuckle that made my nipples tighten to pebbles against the soft fabric of my robe. "Right now, I will stretch you to your limits, trap my cum inside of you, while your sweet little cunt milks me again and again and again." "And you will forget everything except my name because you'll be screaming it loud enough to wake the dead." "By the time I slip out of you, you're going to be full with my seed, drenched in my scent, and want nothing more than for me to bend you over and fuck you till you can no longer walk." I turned to him, my clit throbbing, "Please." I whispered. *** Freya Spencer watched her mother die at the hands of both her father and a witch who pretended to be her mother's best friend. She was also the witch that cursed the Lycan king. Alpha Zane is the dark Lycan king of Adivaine who Freya was gambled off to. He needs to find his reborn mate to break his curse or lose his throne. What happens when he discovers that Freya is his mate?

"Saffron, I asked you a question. What happened to your dress?" Atlas asked again like he cared. Why was he calling her name like they were pals? How did he even know her name? This was the first time in seven years that they talked. Atlas isn't one to care about mere workers in the mansion, let alone commit their names to memory. So why her? Ignoring Atlas was not an option, so she parted her lips. "I–" Saffron was about to lie her way through when she caught sight of Caspian walking over. "Talk to me! Did Caspian do this to you?!" Atlas frowned and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look his way. "How did–" so this was it? Atlas orchestrated last night's incident? He set her up! Now Caspian would think she was involved with Atlas! There's no way for her to prove her innocence anymore... "Ahh!" Saffron cried out loud and moved back with her rear hitting the wall. She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the floor, bawling her eyes out. "I'm just an insignificant Chef who is only here to work, please I beg you, let me live… waaah… I want to live…!" She continued crying as she lamented sorrowfully like she was already having her last minute of life. Caspian walked past without acknowledging any of them with a mere glance. After he ambled out of the corridor, Atlas moved away and glared condescendingly at Saffron, "Don't think too highly of yourself. You've served your purpose. You were a mere pawn." ... Saffron, a Chef who wanted nothing but a simple life, ended up becoming a pawn in a life and death's game for three brothers. However, time will tell if she's a pawn, or the Queen on the chess board.

“Don’t moan too loud, angel.” Cassian’s voice was a husky whisper against Seraphina’s ear, his fingers moving deep inside her as her back arched helplessly against the wall. The air was thick, the danger sharper than the pleasure tearing through her body. Her husband was only a room away. “Be a good little slut for me,” Cassian murmured, lips brushing her throat, “or Lucian will hear you, and then he’ll know exactly who owns you.” Seraphina bit down on her lip, muffling the cry that threatened to break free. Her heart hammered in her chest - guilt, desire, fear - all colliding at once. It was madness, sin, everything she swore she’d never do… and yet she couldn’t stop. Not when Cassian’s touch felt like salvation. **** Seraphina thought she had married her dream man. Lucian Veyron, the dazzling billionaire who swept her into a fairytale romance, promised her forever. But after the vows, he became a stranger - cold, cruel, and determined to make her life miserable. Then the accident happened. Seraphina wakes in a private ward, nursed by gentle hands and soothed by a voice that calls her beautiful, a man who worships her body like she’s his only prayer. But he isn’t her husband. He’s Lucian’s identical twin - Cassian Veyron. Cassian is everything his brother isn’t - tender, protective, dangerously addictive. When she's stronger, they return home with Lucian confined to a wheelchair, Cassian moves into their mansion to help. Now Seraphina is forced to live under one roof with the husband who broke her… and the brother who makes her burn. Every glance across the dinner table is fire. Every secret touch in the hallway is temptation. Every stolen night feels like a sin she never wants to escape.

(Bxb) Eric Valence thought finding a job as an editor for a well-known author named Draven H. Malcolm was the beginning of his writing career. He had no idea that it would also be the beginning of his love story. *** "You're so clueless, it bothers me." He frowned, "What does that mean-" "You never wondered why I gave you all the best things on my floor - the closest desk, drinks from my office, my newest project. I even went to your house and picked you up to make sure you weren't late." "My portfoli-" "There are twenty three others with the same experience as yours, that was an excuse," he admitted, peering into Eric's eyes and daring him to look away. Eric didn't. Draven sighed, "The reason I got mad that day..." he paused for a moment, hesitating again but deciding to let it all out, "the reason I got mad is because I heard you kissed Jason, which I wasn't too pleased about but then seeing you and Justin together..." He never finished his sentence, and Eric raised an eyebrow, "What about Justin and I?" "I feel like you're doing this on purpose," Draven chuckled, examining Eric's confused face. "I'm not sure what you're talking about-" "I like you," Draven said clearly with his entire diaphragm, expression it as loud as he could for Eric to understand. Eric felt his throat squeeze itself shut, no oxygen coming in or out. "I like you, a lot more than I thought, Eric," he breathed. Eric was unable to believe it, shook his head and looked away for moment, before meeting his gaze again. "Why me?" he asked quietly. Draven shrugged his shoulders, eyeing Eric with adoration and admiration, "I'm not sure either, but I want you to be mine."