#forbidden lust

[wulfilaz]

Adam and Yves in the Garden of Hedon

[secretsturnstan]

Best Friends Brother Part 2

My best friends brother... my childhood crush... Chris Sturniolo. He was always around and was well aware of the effect he had on me since we were kids. I was always so nervous around him...until he caught me off guard in the kitchen at 3am. Warnings: forbidden lust, oral sex - fem!receiving, moaning, pet names, dirty talk

He looked up at me, eyes a bit softer now. "Just say the word and I'll stop..." He whispered.

I looked down at him and bit my lip. Whether I was trying to keep the words in or out? I'm not sure..

But he was.

His finger slid my panties to the side in one move and moved his lips forward to kiss my clit. My hips jerked at first, not used to the sensation but then he started using his tongue and my body turned into a pile of mush.

His one hand slid underneath my thigh and wrapped around to get a better hold on me. And the other hand kept my panties to the side while his index finger slid against my soaking entrance.

My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought my ribs were going to break. My chest rose and fell as I watched him touch me with a careful hunger. His finger played with my opening gently before slowly beginning to push inside.

As his finger disappeared inside of me slowly, his eyes flicked up to meet mine. His mouth still on me, curved upwards at the corners before going back to double down on me.

I gripped the edge of the counter and my thighs squeezed against the sides of his head. At first I felt bad, not wanting to hurt him. But as his finger hooked deeper inside of me? I stopped caring real quick.

"You're so tight sweet girl..." Chris moaned against me before his tongue swirled my swollen nub. My lips parted at the increase in pressure from his tongue mixed with the pressure of him inside of me.

A soft gasp left my lips and he let out a satisfied groan against me in return. The vibrations only causing the tight coil building in my lower body to tighten. My hips jerked forward.

"You're gonna come... aren't you?" He asked before growling against my pussy. "Come for me... I got you."

His lips sucked, his tongue swirled and flicked, and his one finger became two some time within the last few minutes.

My ears began to ring and my body began to shake. I felt like I was going to explode, but in the best way.

"Good girl... I got you... be a good girl f'me" He whispered against me.

My body was full on trembling before a wave of relief crash through me.

A moan began to fall from my mouth but mid-way Chris' hand shot up to cover it, muffling the noise. He let up just a little as he worked me through my first orgasm. Given by someone else that is...

My eyes eventually fluttered back open and I felt his fingers slide out of me and his mouth move away from my now throbbing and swollen pussy. He stood up in front of me, his hand fixing my panties simultaneously.

He smirked before leaning in and pecking my lips.

"That feel good?" He whispered as he pulled back just an inch.

I nodded, unable to speak yet.

He grinned. "Good. Cause every time you spend the night now? I'm coming to find you." He hissed.

Still catching my breath I looked up to meet his eyes.

"I fucking hope so." I whispered back.

We both knew that this was not the last time this would be happening.

[rimzaaa]

Older Than You (2)

Oneshot!

Part 1

Pairing: DBF! Hwang Inho x Fem!Reader (y/n)

Summary: One week after that night on the couch, everything between you and Inho simmers hotter beneath the surface. Stolen glances. Quiet touches. Words left unsaid. But when the tension finally snaps — and he takes you to his bed like he promised.

Warnings: Read Part 1 first for better understanding. 18+ Age gap. Power imbalance (but mutual desire & full consent). Mentions of past teasing/flirting. Steamy, suggestive scenes (not graphic, but high tension & detailed intimacy). Secret relationship dynamic. Possessive, emotionally charged male lead. Soft aftercare & emotional comfort.

Author's Note: As I promised, here is the second and final part of Older Than You. I loved writing this and hope y'all will love this too. It's one of my fav writing now!

Words Count: 3316

Tag list: Wanna get tagged in LBH fics? Lemme know in the comments.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97 @alex-17s-world @mObi4girls @maah-sama @grylian @hecticspice @manager016 @mxriesss @christmascoles @nosebeers @carolinevoight @princesscherryblossom15 @frozen-waffle @eviesmoon @startled-cats @retiredpieceofshits @ft-winnow @weakh3rokdrama @bluechaoslizzy @frontwomann @cutecat2005 @starlightlunax @alex110370000

The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of tangled breathing and a slowing heartbeat. You were still curled against him, skin sticky with sweat, hair mussed from where his fingers had been. Inho’s hand lazily traced your spine — when suddenly —

Headlights.

A car door slammed outside.

You both froze.

Then — the familiar jingle of your dad’s keys.

“Shit” you hissed, bolting upright.

Inho was already moving, grabbing for his shirt on the floor. “It’s him.”

You scrambled to your feet, wobbling slightly — sore wasn’t even the word. You felt wrecked. Bruised in places no one would see. He steadied you with one hand on your waist, the other holding out your discarded shirt.

“Here — arms up,” he murmured, pulling it over your head. His jaw was tight but his eyes were still dark with something unrepentant.

He’d just spent the last hour destroying you, and now he was helping you get dressed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The front door creaked open. You heard your dad’s voice call out:

“Inho? You here?”

Inho pressed a kiss to your temple before stepping back, slipping into his pants and smoothing his shirt. His watch was still on his wrist.

You quickly fixed your hair, face flushed and lips slightly swollen. You stepped into the doorway of the living room just in time to see your dad walking in, shrugging off his coat.

He paused when he saw you limp slightly. “Y/n? You okay?”

You forced a smile and waved a hand. “Yeah, I just—uh, hit my foot on the couch leg.”

Inho, sitting casually on the armchair now, covered a cough that was definitely a laugh and you shot him a look.

Your dad nodded. “Alright, well, I’m gonna shower real quick. Inho, wait for me — we’ll have that drink.”

“Of course,” Inho said smoothly, like he hadn’t just had you under him fifteen minutes ago.

As your dad disappeared down the hall, Inho was already up. He moved fast, sweeping you into his arms before you could protest.

“Inho—!”

“Shh, let me take you upstairs,” he whispered, carrying you bridal-style up to your room.

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re limping like I broke you,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me apologize.”

Once inside your room, he gently set you on the bed, kneeling in front of you with one hand caressing your thigh. “Was I too rough?”

You bit back a smirk. “You weren’t exactly gentle.”

He chuckled, brushing his lips along the inside of your knee. “You said not to stop.”

You flicked his forehead. “You said ‘good girl’ and my brain left the building.”

He leaned in, kissing your inner thigh, voice low and amused. “Noted.”

The door of the bathroom slammed— your dad, heading back in. Inho stood quickly, smoothing his shirt.

“I’ll go have that drink before he suspects something.”

You grabbed his wrist. “Inho.”

He turned back.

You smirked up at him. “You better not fall asleep before round two.”

That look came back in his eyes — molten, heavy.

He leaned in, whispering “You’re going to kill me.”

Then he was gone — down the stairs, smoothing every trace of sin from his face before he met your father again.

You collapsed against your pillows, heart still hammering. The taste of him still on your lips.

And you knew — this was only the beginning.

~One Week Later~

It had been exactly seven days since that night on the couch.

Seven days since you whispered how much you want him.

Since he kissed you like he’d waited a lifetime.

And even though you hadn’t slept together again, the moments in between were almost worse.

The stolen glances across the room.

The brush of his hand against your waist as he passed behind you in the kitchen.

The kiss he pressed to your neck two night before when your dad had stepped out to take a call.

And then — the photo.

You’d sent it to him last night when he was with your dad at work: a picture of that same couch, perfectly innocent… if not for the three dots you’d added under it.

He replied instantly:

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Followed by:

“I laughed so loud your dad would’ve caught me if I weren’t in my office.”

Now it was afternoon. He was stopping by to drop off something for your dad — or that was the excuse. You knew better.

You answered the door, heart already beating faster at the sight of him.

He was in a white polo shirt today, forearms flexing as he leaned slightly against the doorframe. He looked… unfair.

You didn’t even get a “hi.”

His eyes darted behind you, checking the hallway. Then, fast — too fast — he stepped in, kicked the door closed with one foot, and pressed you back against the wall with a low groan.

His mouth crashed against yours.

Hot. Starved. Desperate.

His hands slid up your waist, gripping like he was making sure you were real. Your breath caught when he rolled his hips against you — just enough pressure to tell you exactly how hard he was trying not to lose control.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath was ragged.

“I can’t do this much longer,” he muttered, his voice low and ruined. “You keep looking at me like that. Sending me pictures. Wearing those damn shorts.”

You swallowed. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear now.

“I really need you” he whispered, rough and breathless. “It’s getting harder to hold back.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes — his own full of hunger, frustration, restraint.

Inho stepped back the moment he heard your father’s voice from the living room.

“Is that you, Inho?”

He gave you one last look — jaw tight, lips still parted from the kiss — and straightened his shirt like nothing happened.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he called back, already walking past you as if he hadn’t just said he needed you.

You stood there for a second, pulse hammering in your ears, your lips still tingling from the contact. Then you followed, trying to act casual, even as your legs felt like jelly.

Inho sat across from your dad, nodding like a polite guest. You sat nearby, heart still racing.

They talked. About something work-related. Some shared memory you barely caught because you were too busy noticing the way Inho kept shifting in his seat — how his leg bounced slightly, how he kept clenching and unclenching his hand.

Your dad glanced over mid-conversation. “You alright, man? You look… restless.”

Inho let out a soft laugh, casual and smooth. “Just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

You bit your lip.

Your father nodded and got up. “I’ll get us something cold. You like that barley tea, right?”

“Yeah,” Inho replied.

You knew the moment your father turned his back.

Because Inho looked at you like a man unhinged. That same restrained heat darkening his eyes. And this time, when he leaned across the space between you, he didn’t hesitate.

His hand cupped your cheek as he kissed you again — slower, deeper. Not rushed like before.

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest.

You could hear your dad opening cabinets. Filling glasses.

But Inho didn’t pull back.

Not until the sound of the fridge door made you both jump.

You parted with a breathless gasp, cheeks flushed, trying to fix your expression as Inho leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat like nothing had happened.

You could barely look at him.

And he was smirking.

Your father returned with the drinks, handing one to Inho before settling back down beside you.

“Same old watch, huh?” your dad said casually, nodding at the silver timepiece on Inho’s wrist.

Inho glanced at it with a faint smile, thumb brushing over the scratched surface. “Yeah. You know me — I don’t change things that still work.”

Your dad laughed. “You’ve had that thing since forever. You remember that trip—?”

But Inho, without even looking at you, cut in smoothly, “Y/N likes my watch a lot.”

You choked slightly on your drink, eyes widening as your cheeks flushed with heat.

Your father didn’t notice. “Well, she’s got good taste. That thing’s practically vintage.”

“Mm,” Inho said, swirling the ice in his glass. Then, finally, he turned to glance at you — not for long, just a second too long to be innocent.

“She noticed it the first night I came over after months.”

Your heart stuttered.

You remembered it too clearly — your eyes catching on the watch, your casual comment that spiraled into something… not-so-innocent. That teasing line, “I like older things.”

Your grip on the glass tightened slightly as your father went on, oblivious.

But you knew Inho was watching you from the corner of his eye, quietly enjoying the way your face was now warm, your legs crossed a little tighter, your smile a bit more forced.

And when your dad leaned back, stretching and yawning, Inho leaned a little closer to you — so subtly no one would notice — and whispered under his breath,

“Still like it, sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer.

But the flush rising to your ears said enough.

---

The afternoon light had softened, stretching golden across the living room as your father’s phone buzzed sharply on the coffee table.

He sighed, glanced at the screen, and stood up. “Work. I have to take this.”

You nodded, and Inho rose too, dusting off his shirt. “I should get going anyway.”

Your dad, phone already to his ear, gave a distracted nod. “Y/N, sweetheart, see him off?”

“Of course,” you said, trying to sound calm.

As soon as you both reached the front door, Inho turned to face you—closer than he should’ve been. His eyes dragged over your face, unreadable but burning.

“I’ve been patient,” he murmured, voice low. “But I want to take you to my bed. Like I promised.”

Your breath caught.

He leaned in just slightly, gaze flicking down to your lips, then back up. “Tell your father you want to go out with me. Like when you were younger. Say we’re going to watch a movie or something.”

You blinked. “You think he’ll say yes?”

Inho smirked. “He always did back then.”

And he was right. You used to beg your dad to let you tag along with ‘Uncle Inho’ when you were little — ice cream runs, matinee movies, little bookstore visits. It had been innocent then. But now...

“I’ll wait in the car,” Inho said, straightening his shirt, smoothing his expression into something utterly nonchalant. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

You swallowed and nodded, cheeks flushed as you stepped back inside. Your dad was off the phone now, sipping water at the counter.

“Dad?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

You hesitated — and then smiled sweetly. “Mr Hwang asked if I wanted to go watch a movie. You know... like we used to. Just for a little while.”

Your dad’s face softened with nostalgia. “That’s nice of him. Sure, sweetheart. Just be back before it gets too late.”

“Okay,” you said, and your heart thudded against your ribs.

You turned away quickly, biting back the giddy grin tugging at your lips as you grabbed your coat.

You were going to his house.

And this time, it wouldn’t be popcorn and cartoons.

---

The ride to his house was quiet — but it wasn’t calm.

Not with his hand resting warm and firm on your thigh, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles on your skin like he owned it. Like he was claiming you, inch by inch, without saying a single word.

You didn’t speak either. The air was thick, charged. Your heartbeat lived in your throat, thudding louder every time his hand inched higher, every time his fingers gripped just a little tighter at a red light.

By the time he parked, your skin was buzzing.

The door to his home barely clicked shut behind you when it happened.

In-ho turned — and then his mouth was on yours.

He didn’t waste a second.

No teasing, no hesitation. Just heat.

His hands cupped your jaw as his lips crashed into yours with a hunger you’d only ever dreamed about. One that made your knees weaken, your fingers grabbing at the front of his shirt to stay grounded.

He stepped forward, guiding you backwards until your spine met the wall. You gasped against his mouth, and he used it — deepening the kiss, tilting your chin to taste more of you.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he breathed against your lips, voice low and ragged, “since the moment I left you on your bed.”

Your cheeks burned, but your body leaned in. Wanting more. Needing more.

He didn’t hold back. His hands moved to your hips, gripping with a quiet sort of desperation, like he’d been starved for you.

One hand slipped beneath your layers of clothing, fingertips grazing over skin he already knew too well — skin that remembered the weight of him.

He whispered your name, soft and reverent, and kissed the corner of your mouth. Then your jaw. Then down your throat, each kiss slower than the last, until you were trembling beneath him.

“You remember what I said?” he murmured, brushing his lips near your ear.

“That the next time would be in my bed.”

You nodded, breathless.

He lifted you easily — effortlessly — and you wrapped your legs around his waist without a word, your arms looping around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Carrying you through the hallway, he pressed open the door to his room and laid you down with a gentleness that contrasted the fire in his eyes.

Inho stood over you for a moment, his eyes drinking you in — like he couldn’t believe you were here, in his bed, willingly offering yourself to him. His thumb brushed your cheekbone as he leaned down, lips ghosting over yours in contrast to the hunger he showed just moments ago.

“You’re sure?” he murmured, his voice rough but soft.

You nodded, whispering, “I want you.”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, slower this time, like he meant to savor you. His hands roamed down your sides, tracing your shape through your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric.

One layer at a time — that was how he undressed you. No rush. No scramble. Just quiet reverence, like he was unwrapping something sacred.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against your collarbone, his breath warm as his lips trailed across your skin. “So damn beautiful.”

He kissed down your chest, your stomach, worshipping every inch he revealed until you were laid bare beneath him — flushed and breathless.

His fingers dragged along your thighs, spreading them just enough to settle between them, and you gasped as he leaned over you fully — his weight grounding you, anchoring you to the moment.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he said, voice like velvet laced with gravel. “With your little looks… the way you say my name…”

You whimpered when he rolled his hips, letting you feel him — hard, deliberate, and completely unashamed. His breath hitched when you arched into him.

“Say it,” he whispered against your ear. “Say it like you did last time.”

“i want you” you moaned softly, barely audible.

He growled.

His lips found yours again — rougher now, more desperate — as his hand gripped your jaw gently, thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

“No,” he rasped, “not that. Say my name.”

You swallowed hard, breath shaking. “Inho…”

“Good girl” he whispered. “That’s better.”

You felt the way his body trembled slightly — how even he was affected by this, by you.

When he finally pushed into you, it wasn’t fast or harsh. It was deep. Slow. Devastating.

He groaned against your throat, burying his face there like he was trying to stay grounded — as if the feeling of you around him was too much. And maybe it was.

Your fingers dug into his back. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist. Every movement of his hips, every breathless whisper of your name, dragged you further under — until it felt like there was no line between where he ended and you began.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he said, voice wrecked, forehead pressed to yours. “So tight. So warm. So perfect.”

He kissed you again — long and deep, a contrast to the steady rhythm that had your body unraveling beneath him.

Each thrust pulled a soft moan from your throat, and the more you gave him, the more he fell apart.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispered. “Taking all of me… like this is where you belong.”

You were breathless. Floating.

And when your body clenched around him — waves crashing hard and fast — he cursed under his breath and buried himself deeper, chasing his own release with a low, ragged groan that you felt in your bones.

He didn’t move for a long moment.

Just held you. Still buried inside, his chest pressed to yours, lips at your temple as your heartbeat slowly returned to normal.

Then, finally, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze — his eyes softer now, but still heavy with something raw.

He brushed the hair from your face, kissing your cheek.

“I’m never going to forget this” he said.

---

They stayed like that for a moment — tangled together, warm skin against warm skin, their breaths slowly syncing.

Then Inho shifted, gently pulling out and laying beside you. He said nothing at first, just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him, tucking you into the curve of his body like you belonged there.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice hoarse but tender, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, cheek pressed to his chest. “Yeah.”

His fingers traced lazy circles on your bare back, and for a moment, everything felt still — like the world outside didn’t exist.

Your eyes wandered up, and there it was again — the silver watch. Slightly scuffed, timeless, familiar. The same one that had driven you crazy just from the way it hugged his wrist.

“I really do like that watch,” you whispered, your voice soft with post-high honesty.

He chuckled, chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “Yeah? You’ve mentioned.”

“It suits you” you said, fingers reaching up to touch the cool metal. “Classic. Reliable. Kinda unfairly hot.”

That made him laugh again — a deep, quiet sound you felt more than heard.

Then, without warning, he sat up slightly, slid the watch off his wrist, and took your arm gently.

You blinked. “Wait—seriously?”

He didn’t answer. He just slid the heavy strap onto your wrist and fastened it carefully, like it was made for you.

You stared at it, eyes wide, then laughed softly. “It’s huge on me.”

“Looks better on you anyway”

He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Keep it,” he said simply, placing it in your hand. “Something to wear when I’m not around.”

You stared at it — then at him. “You’ll want it back.”

“I won’t,” he murmured “because I’ve got you now”

He pulled you closer and added

“And if I want to.....I’ll just come get it off you myself.”

You blushed, as he tucked you back against him. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Mm,” he hummed, pulling you closer. “And you’re trouble.”

You both laughed softly, tangled up in sweat and warmth and something that felt suspiciously like falling.

And as the sun dipped lower beyond the window, casting soft gold over the room, you let your eyes drift shut — wrapped in Inho’s arms, wearing his watch, and entirely, completely his.

[xinsferno]

𖥔 Liquors on the floor 𖥔

✧ Nanami Kento

❱ Sypnosis: He shows up late—tie loose, drunk, and already looking at you like he knows exactly what he came for. You let him in, like you always do, already knowing how the night will unfold. It’s raw, heated, and full of everything neither of you dares to say out loud. It’s not love. But it feels dangerously close.

❱ Content Warnings: MDNI 🔞 | Explicit sexual content | Power imbalance | Soft dom!Nanami | Submissive reader undertones | Praise & teasing | Rough oral (f receiving) | Fingering | Dirty talk | Begging | Unprotected sex | Cheating themes (Nanami is married) | Mistress!AU | Emotional manipulation | Aftercare contrasted with betrayal | Alcohol consumption | Light angst | 1.2k+ words ahead.

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

The door clinked and opened.

There he was—his necktie already loose, lazy hands dropping his bag on the floor, and the strong scent of alcohol clinging to him. He was drunk. That much was obvious. His eyes scanned the house like he was looking for something. When his gaze landed on mine, he smiled—a silly grin laced with intent.

“Drinking without me?”

I let a sly smirk curl on my lips and gestured for him to come over. His feet padded into the kitchen as he sat beside me. His eyes searched mine deeply, trying to read every hidden emotion, but I shrugged it off, reaching out to hold his face with one hand.

“You took too long, Kento. So I started without you.”

He chuckled—a soft, sweet laugh that went straight through me, igniting every part of me that craved him. I set my wine glass on the table, and my hand moved on its own, resting against his chest and slowly sliding up and down, letting him feel just how much I needed him.

A gasp left my mouth when Kento’s hand gripped my waist and pulled me closer. Instinct took over—I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him close, but not close enough for our lips to touch.

Our breathing grew heavier. The tension in the room thickened. We stared at each other, speaking without words. We both knew how this would end, yet neither of us dared to make the next move. Time ticked on, but my needy body couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed his hand and led him upstairs.

 – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ –

One thing led to another, and suddenly our lips were tangled. Clothes fell to the floor, forgotten. All that mattered was the way our bodies intertwined. Kisses trailed to the bed, fingers interlocked—not with gentleness, but with need.

The kiss turned into bites—love bites, searing hot along my neck, marking me. I hissed softly when his hands traveled down my back and unhooked my bra, leaving my chest bare as the fabric fell away.

“I haven’t even touched you down there,” he teased, “but your tits are already so perked up for me. Only for me.”

He mocked, then cupped one of my breasts, circling a finger around the pink nub, making me whimper with each stroke. His mouth found mine again, kissing me with an aching hunger, one hand still playing with my breast while the other reached the front of my thong.

“Shit…”

I cursed between kisses as his finger pressed against my clothed sex, moving slowly, teasing—knowing I hated it. His lips left mine, traveling down to suck the other breast, nipping gently, all while his fingers rubbed me faster through the damp fabric. My hands gripped the bedsheets, desperate to feel him inside me.

“I—I… can’t take this anymore. Please, I need you…”

The words tumbled from me in broken breaths, heavy with frustration. Kento looked up, his dark green eyes locking with mine. He grinned, brushing his thumb across my lips.

“What do you want exactly? Tell me—what do you want me to do to you?” He kept rubbing me, slow circles driving me insane.

“I… I want you to eat me out. Lap my pussy until I cream in that teasing mouth of yours.”

A smirk crept across his face. He kissed the corner of my lips, tongue pushing past them, our mouths battling before he pulled away—leaving a string of saliva between us, heavy with heat and need. His head lowered between my parted thighs. He gripped my thong with his teeth, slowly pulling it off, eyes gleaming, and tossed it somewhere forgotten.

“Forward as ever,” Kento muttered.

He leaned in, lips meeting my sex, inserting a finger without warning. I whimpered, body trembling as he added another finger and dove in with his tongue.

“F-fuck, Kento!”

I moaned, head tilting back, one hand pinching my nipple as pleasure surged through me. He watched my face—every gasp, every moan—as he worked me over. He added a third finger, and I arched, overwhelmed by the combined sensations.

“I—I’m c-close… S-shit…!”

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I trembled on the edge. He pounded his fingers into me and devoured my pussy like it was his last meal.

“F-fuck! I—I’m gonna cu—”

The words broke off as my body spasmed, orgasm crashing over me. I gasped, clutching the sheets, moaning his name. Kento looked up, licking his lips with a satisfied smile.

I reached for him, palming his hard length through his boxers. He groaned, the sound vibrating through me. He quickly rid himself of the last barrier between us. I bit my lip at the sight of him—thick, veiny, and eager. My hand moved to touch the tip, but he stopped me, grabbing my wrist.

“Your hands or mouth aren’t where I want to put this dick. Do you know where I want to bury it, huh?” He asked, smirking. I played along, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know… Can you show me where?” He chuckled, lining the head of his cock against my clit.

“Here…” He slapped his dick against my pussy, making me whimper.

“Inside your cunt. Buried deep. Fucking you senseless until this pussy only recognizes my cock. No one else’s—just mine.”

 – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ – -͙ –

In the dimly lit room, I inhaled the scent of us—sweat, sex, the lingering breathlessness, and the curve of a smile on my lips. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just Kento. The way his hands moved over me like I was fragile and precious. The way he held my hands above my head as he claimed me, over and over.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

His soft laugh filled the space between us. I looked at him—really looked. Those eyes stared into me like I was the only woman in the world. Like I was someone he wanted to spend every morning and night with. In his gaze, I saw the illusion of forever. The kind that made every decision feel right, even when they weren’t.

He caressed my cheek with his left hand. I closed my eyes, placing mine over his, feeling the warmth. These were the moments I’d remember: the post-pleasure affection, the whispered promises of futures that would never come.

But life isn’t as sweet as I wish it to be.

A sharp sound broke our little world—his cellphone buzzing loudly from the bedside table.

Reality hit like a slap. I was under a spell, tricked by soft touches and lies wrapped in warmth. I’d fallen for the comfort he gave so freely but never meant.

“You should answer that. Your wife might suspect something. I don’t want you getting in trouble, Kento.”

The words felt like vomit, bitter and hard to swallow. But I said them anyway. And without hesitation, the hands that once touched me like I was one-of-a-kind reached for his phone and left the room—leaving me alone in a bed that now felt cold and wrinkled with shame.

That’s when it crashed down again.

I was never that woman to him. Never the one he’d rush home to after a long day. Never the one he’d wrap his arms around at night. I was just the woman he came to when he needed to feel something. The woman who took in his stress, his chaos, his need.

And I thought I could handle it.

I told myself it was okay to just be his outlet, the one who pleasured him, knowing his heart would never belong to me. But in the end, I became everything I swore I’d never be.

And in the end, I became what I swore I never would—a fucking mistress.

[vampzip]

dry humping my knight’s thigh until i leak all over his armour and my clit is puffy from the difference in temperature: the cold steel n iron under my aching skin. put chain mail inside me, that would be so heavy on my cervix. watch how my thighs tremble away the small gasps that part my lips. don’t you ever let me marry a royal prince, none of it matters to me. make me yours from the inside and out.

[rawcunningmaster]

Kiss through the wall , Berlin 1989

[yourrosered]

In his arms (part 1)

He stepped back as she looked over, her face flushed from the drinks. She stood clumsily, and slowly made her way toward the restroom. Toward him. He smiled.

She walked confidently forward. Her fingers trailed the wall gently. She hummed along to the song as she drew closer. His heart started pounding in anticipation as she stepped closer. Closer. She started to pass him, pulling her hand in quickly to avoid touching him. She smiled as she stepped, meeting his eyes with a warm smile. He looked around. Nobody was watching. This time it was too easy.

He shoved her violently. Her head bounced off the wall, her body became weak as she gasped for breath. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up with ease he stepped quickly through the exit door. It closed as the bathroom door creaked open. They burst into the alley as her lips started to turn blue.

He looked down and loosened his steel grip. She gasped and trembled in his arms. She looked up at him. Her eyes filled with fear, her confusion was written all over her face. It was even better than he thought it would be. He smiled and laughed before slamming her again against the brick, his hands held tight to her arms. She trembled against his rough grip, her eyes shut desperately. She pushed her mind to run away.

“Oh no you don’t.” He pushed his body closer, trapping her. Suffocating her. His hands gripped her face, his cruel smile widened as she whimpered.

He gripped harder and hushed her quietly.

His breath was warm against her ear. His hand slid down to wrap around her throat, her world flickered as his grip tightened. He laughed quietly as he brushed his lips against hers, loosening his grip as he deepened the kiss. He paused for a moment, bending he whispered in her ear.

“Open your fucking eyes.”

She trembled against him. As she lifted her face her eyes met his cold stare. Her eyes widened in fear. For a moment she was frozen in time.

“This can’t be real.” He was gorgeous. His eyes shone black, glittering in amusement. His grin twisted into a beautifully demented smile. She understood the meaning behind fallen angels looking at the twisted, delighted face inches from her own. She could feel every inch of muscle that gripped her tightly. He hands tightened as she regained her breath.

“If you try to scratch or bite me I will punish you. I promise you don’t want to do that.”

He was breathless with anticipation. His breath tickled her ear as he lifted his leg and started to force his knee between her legs. Weak and disoriented she blindly pushed him away. He moved impossibly fast, his teeth sunk into her shoulder. She gasped in pain, squealing until he bit even harder. She grew silent and still. As she relaxed her legs he bit down harder, the pain screaming in her head. He slowly released his bite as his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer. His body was hard as stone and impossible to push away.

Her breathing became heavy as her body betrayed her. She tried uselessly to close her legs. He took a sharp breath in, looking down at her he was caught in her glassy eyes.

She’s so scared.

His mouth ached to taste her.

To make her squeal.

Make her beg.

He was losing control.

Her feet slipped against the wall as she tried to lift herself off of his knee.

Useless.

He started to move his leg side to side as he pushed her hips down forcefully. She moaned and shivered as he effortlessly rocked her body.

She screamed at her body to wait. To stop.

It felt so good.

Her body started to buzz and she mindlessly began to beg.

“Please please please let me go. I promise I’ll forget all about this I just want to go home.” Her voice shook so hard she could barely speak above a whisper. He drank in her words. He laughed cruelly in her ear.

“Oh aren’t you precious.” He straightened his leg and stood at his full height.

She stumbled as he dropped his knee landing unsteadily on her boots.

Her heart fluttered as she took in the sight of him.

He towered over her.

She started to shake violently, fear and awe written across her face.

The way he moved was too precise, too quick.

He stood watching her, unmoving. His body gently resting against her skin. She could feel him harden and twitch as they locked eyes.

She started to shuffle sideways, her back scraped against the brick. She moved very slowly, checking obsessively for any hint of a reaction. He stood still. She breath grew heavy as his cold gaze followed her. She could feel it. It bore into her.

She started to move a little faster as he stood and watched. A sense of relief washed over her. An unsteady victory. An escape.

The moment she left his arms she knew she would run like never before. She carefully stared at the ground in front of her, using her peripheral vision to see if he was still watching her. He wasn’t even looking at her anymore.

Freedom.

His hand tangled into her golden locks and pulled her forcefully back. She stumbled, tripping into his arms as he shoved her back against the wall.

“I’m sorry” she could barely get the words out. Her head was swimming. She felt sick. He was standing over her. She felt his breath trickle down.

She tipped her head back. She risked a glance.

He looked furious. His hands balled into fists.

They shook.

Focus.

He wanted to whip her. Tie her up. Watch her cum as tears streak down her face.

His hands twitched.

She was beautiful when she cried.

He loved how her voice trembled, how her body shook. How she gasped when he grabbed her. How she begged with her eyes. She was so expressive.

Focus.

Her eyes widened with fear. A desperate gasp of air escaped her throat. The fear overwhelmed her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

A low growl interrupted the quiet between them. She knew he wanted her to open her eyes but they refused to open.

She became dizzy with fear as he waited.

His grip became harsh as he waited for an answer.

Slowly he reached down and grabbed her legs, pushing himself between them as he lifted her up. He pushed himself closer, slowly, relishing the feeling of her weak resistance.

Inch by inch she fought him.

As he pushed past her knees she whined and pushed hard against his chest. He paused before pushing harder. Harder.

She cried out softly as he pressed into her, swallowing the sound as he bit into her shoulder.

His hands found her thong and ripped it straight off of her.

She stiffened as he touched her. She was already wet with desire. Fear.

Her body shook even harder and a small moan escaped as he forced his finger into her.

She tried to push him away, her hands pulled on his harder and more desperately as he rubbed her and pushed farther in. She tried and failed to stifle the whine in her throat.

His eyes glittered, black and unforgiving.

He lifted her, his hand reached down to undo his buttons.

She could feel how big he was, her stomach tightened feeling the hard press against her. He teased her, pushing his tip in and out.

She was dripping and flushed, his eyes admired her defeated, beautiful face. He loved the feeling of her soft skin. The smell of her perfume. He resisted the urge to take her completely right there.

He put her down and spun her to face the wall, her hands clawed at his arms for mere moments as he choked her unconscious. He calmly checked her pulse and smiled as he lifted her.

His truck was just outside of the gated alleyway, right where he planned.

…

She woke up silently. Her blinking eyes were the only movement she allowed herself.

Slowly she began to assess where she was.

She was in a house.

Apartment?

She could hear the tv in the room she was in.

There was a blue carpet pulled over a wood floor. The bed she was on was had matching blue sheets.

She was on top of him, her legs straddled around him. Her arms were folded on each side of his torso and her head laid on his chest. He laid with his knees bent, his cock hard and resting against her.

If she moved he would be inside her.

The moment that thought came to mind she felt herself pulse against him.

No.

Her body betrayed her.

She didn’t know if her heart was pounding from fear or anticipation.

She tried to slow her breath, his body was still and silent underneath her.

Maybe he didn’t notice.

Was he asleep?

Can I get out of here?

Counting numbers in her head she willed her body not to react.

Breathe.

He shifted slightly, pushing into her.

Fuck.

This time it hit her harder, her body already shaking and sweating.

She felt him take a breath. He tightened his arms, hugging her closer to his chest.

He held her still as he forced her down, the tip of his cock slowly pushing further and further in. She was dripping wet, her legs began to shake as the length of him forced its way deeper inside.

He was delirious with pleasure.

She pushed against his folded arms, failing to stop his movement.

He allowed her to pull herself forward, inching his cock out.

It felt amazing.

Almost there.

He was at the very edge as she strained to escape.

So close.

She panted as she strained, he tried to suppress his delighted smile.

She thought she could get away?

Adorable.

He grabbed her hips and pushed her down, slowly overpowering her will.

He grew harder seeing the fight in her eyes grow dim.

She began to tire.

He pulled her chest to his and sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

She sucked in as the pain washed over her.

He bit harder.

Her hands let go.

Her body went limp.

Good girl.

Without her pushing him away he began to slam himself into her, using his strength to bounce her on and off of his cock.

Her moans were involuntary, she cursed her body for reacting.

For betraying her.

For making everything feel so.

Fucking.

Good.

As she started to get close she panicked and found her strength. She pushed against him.

Such a fighter.

She gasped and flinched as he pulled her violently down once again. He smiled watching her.

She looked away in frustration as his smile grew wider. Crueler. He slammed into her again.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she moaned.

Suddenly her face twisted. Her eyes squeezed shut.

She looked desperate.

Tired.

He forced his way into her and she bucked, hands trying desperately to claw out of his suffocating embrace.

To stop his endless torture.

She couldn’t stop him. She - she -

She hasn’t given up yet.

He released her hips, his fingers trailed along her back. Dancing away from the newly formed bruises.

He grabbed her throat and threw her on her back.

He wrapped her hair around his wrist and pulled mercilessly. He laughed as she crawled following the cruel pull of the path he was forcing her down.

His laugh grew louder as he sat up. Twisting her hair even tighter he stood up. Delighted in leading.

She was in too much pain to fight as he forced her to crawl around the bed. Her hands shook, wrapped around the base of her head. Trying and failing to relieve the aching pain.

Faster and faster he pulled her. Her cries echoed loudly in the dark room.

Quickly, cruelly, he pulled her hair back towards his chest. Her head strained and she started to lose her balance. His arm snaked across her neck and squeezed painfully tight.

He loosened his grip. Smoothed her hair back. Quietly gentle.

He squeezed, almost tenderly. Almost softly.

Focus.

Bright stars danced across her vision. She grew light headed. Confused.

Her body grew heavy.

He laid her on her side.

He allowed her to breathe.

He was holding her.

She gasped and blinked as the arms drew her closer.

No…pain?

He firmly gripped her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. He stared deeply into her eyes.

His face was impossibly perfect.

Dark curls framed watchful, greedy eyes. A cruel smile graced by perfect lips. He could be a model if not for the crazed look in her eyes. The way his breath pushed past his parted lips was hungry. The eyes watching her stared. They pulled her close. They overwhelmed her.

She could see the excitement bubbling up. His expression grew manic. His eyes took in every detail. Every tear. Every quiver. Her mouth betrayed her. She pressed her lips.

Not enough. She pressed harder.

He giggled in a sharp tone, leaning in close -

too close - pressing his forehead into hers. His fingers cradled her head, pressing in, his nails pressed sharply against her skin.

His thumb pushed against the hinge of her jaw. He pushed and felt her wince.

Dragging her face up his tongue slipped past her lips. He kissed her hungrily. Angrily. His grip was too tight. His strength wrapped around her and squeezed, tightly, the fight from her body. She let go. Relaxed.

His arms -

He paused.

He was silent. Watching.

Everything within her screamed that she was in danger. That she needed to go.

Now.

He gently released her and sat up. His gaze stared down. His face was unreadable. He sat unnaturally still.

He blinked and reached for her.

A sharp panic pounded in her chest.

Fear.

She forced her breath to slow.

Her head was pounding.

His hands landed softly and caressed her hair. She blinked against the emotion welling up in her chest.

Relief?

No. No. No.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Her body ached. Her head was pounding. His fingers felt so good.

She frowned.

He smiled.

His smile grew wider as her breath slowed. Her hair felt so soft. So cute.

This was his favorite part.

She looked so peaceful in her bed.

[vintage-tigre]