HIGH VOLTAGE SEDUCTION
WARNING: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!!
This erotica collection is raw, hot, intense, and packed with deliciously filthy fucktwists that will leave you breathless.
Each story is steamy, gripping, and driven by compelling plots that pull you deep into forbidden desire.
You will find A strict 59-year-old professor bends his tempting student over his desk and growls that she's been a very bad girl.
A college student wakes up sore and dripping in her biggest rival's bed, with no memory of how many times he fucked her senseless.
Her hot stepdad has a secret camera aimed at her bed. When she catches him watching, she doesn't rage - she spreads her legs and gives him the show of his life.
A seductive woman is the only weakness of a ruthless mafia king, and he finally claims her body as his own.
She knows her sister is cheating, so she seduces her husband right in front of her - and her sister can't say a single word.
Piper's rent is overdue. Instead of paying up, she drops to her knees for the landlord while her boyfriend watches.
A spoiled, arrogant rich brat demands a private striptease. The dancer doesn't walk away - she dances for him until he completely loses control.
An assistant's boyfriend has a huge cock, but "Daddy" knows exactly how to ruin her with his tongue. She chooses Daddy.
Best friends make a wicked bet: seduce my dad. She takes the bet... and loses all control the moment he bends her over.
Chloe has been secretly masturbating to her stepbrother's photos, moaning his name as she comes. She can't hide it much longer.
A married gym coach can't stop staring at the sexy teacher. She goes all the way and lets him take her between her thighs.
Her doctor tells her she needs rest... but she's determined to prove she's strong enough to be fucked senseless on his examination table.
Every twisted fantasy and every scorching answer waits inside these pages.
Flip the pages, spread your legs... and get ready to throb.
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Chapter 4
Kelly
Thursday classes dragged, my thong soaked through lectures, I kept stealing glances at his bulge when he thought no one watched.
After classes, I followed him to his office. "Prof? Quick question?"
He nodded curtly, the office door shutting us in again. "What?"
I leaned over his desk, cleavage on full display.
"This."
I popped a button on my blouse, lace bra peeking.
Adam's apple bobbed. "Kelly..."
"Missed you." I rounded the desk, dropping to my knees between his legs. His zipper went down. *holy fuck*, 9 inches of thick, veined perfection sprang free, pre-cum beading the tip. "Let me taste you, please."
He gripped my hair, hips jerked. "No shit, yes."
I swallowed him deep, throat relaxing, tongue swirling the ridge. He fucked my mouth slow at first, groans echoing, balls tightening. We heard voices in the hall... he froze, shoving me under the desk.
Dean knocked. "Will? We have a board meeting, are you coming?"
"In a minute," he called, voice strained... my mouth on his balls, sucking softly. Dean left; he yanked me up, bending me over his desk, spanking my ass red. "Bad girl." He groaned.
"Fuck your bad girl," I begged.
Another slap, his palm stung delicious. I went under the desk again, he brought my head back to his cock, I sucked on hard, balls deep, wet. He came. I milked every drop, grinning up.
His phone rang...department head. He answered, thrusting shallow, emptying himself in my mouth, muffling my moans with his tie. "Yes... handling it."
He pulled out. "Out," he ordered, zipping up. But his hand lingered on my cheek.
Tuesday night, none of us could concentrate, I was acting like I understood an equation when he snatched my ankle, grip firm, thumb stroking my skin. "Keep your mind focused." But his free hand brushed my knee, sliding higher, his touch igniting fire within me. My breath hitched when he grazed my wetness...no panties, surprise.
"Jesus, Kelly. You're soaked."
Heat pooled between my thighs as his fingers lingered on my wet pussy, scraping my inner thigh like sandpaper on silk. I gasped sharp, nipples stabbing my dress begging for teeth on them.
"Prof... Wilson," I purred his name like a dirty secret, spreading my legs another inch wider, pussy drenched and clinging. His eyes went feral, thumb pressing firm right against my pussy. Electric jolts shot up my spine... fuck, I was dripping down my thighs.
"This isn't tutoring," he rasped, voice gravel and velvet, but he didn't pull back. No, his other hand dropped to his lap under the table, stroking that massive bulge tenting his pants.
I could see the outline straining the zipper like it wanted to burst free. My virgin pussy clenched empty, aching to feel it split me.
"Tell me to stop then," I challenged, rocking slowly into his hand, grinding my slick folds over his fingers. The friction made my clit throb, breaths coming in pants. He groaned low, primal, the sound vibrating straight to my core.
"Fuck, Kelly. You're killing me." He rose up, hauled me up by the waist, mouth crashing down on mine, this time brutal, starving. His tongue thrust deep, claiming every inch. Hands everywhere: one palming my heavy tits, fingers pinching my nipples hard enough to make me arch and moan into his kiss; the other gripping my ass, yanking me flush against him. His cock was a hard rod against my belly, so thick it made my head spin.
I ground my pussy on his muscled thigh, dress hiking up to my waist, lace scraping denim.
"Feel how wet you make me?" I whispered against his lips, nipping his bottom one. His grip tightened, fingers digging bruises I'd finger myself to later.
"Every night I rub my clit thinking of this-your hands, your mouth, that huge dick ruining me."
He growled, spinning me to face the island counter, bending me over it. Cool granite kissed my tits as he shoved my dress higher, exposing my ass.
"Jesus, Kelly," he breathed, palms kneading my ass cheeks, spreading them. A finger traced my soaked slit through panties, dipping just inside-teasing my virgin hole.
"So tight and wet." He praised me.
"For you." I grabbed his wrist. "More... please."
Two fingers now, pumping slow, thumb on my clit. I bucked, moaning loud, tits bouncing. His mouth claimed my neck, sucking down. "Tight little pussy... how are you this wet?" His cock ground against my leg, leaking at the tip.
"I'm a virgin," I gasped, clenching around him. His eyes snapped wide-shock, hunger.
He stepped back, fingers glistening. "Fuck. No. I CAN'T." He stumbled away, running hands through his hair, erection throbbing untouched.
"Will, wait..." But the door to what I guessed was his bedroom slammed. I followed, pushing in. Dim light glowing, a kingsize bed with rumpled sheets sat the middle. He stripped his shirt, backing me. He had a tattoo of a lightning bolt across his shoulder blade. Muscles rippled as he paced.
"Don't. You're untouched. I won't be your first mistake." Voice raw, but he turned, the bulge in his pants still obvious.
I dropped to my knees, crawling close, and kept my hands on his thighs. "Teach me. Please, use me." I unzipped him slowly. Saliva flooded my mouth at the sight of his thick cock.
"Kelly..." He cupped my face, thumb on my lip. I sucked it, then licked his tip, tasting salt. Moan tore from him as I took half down my throat, gagging sweet. Hands in my hair, guiding gently at first, then thrusting.
"Good girl... fuck, your mouth." Hips snapped forward, balls slapping my chin. I hummed, fingers rubbing my clit, I was close.
He pulled out suddenly, grunting. "Stop. I won't do that to you. You deserve better." He pushed me back softly, zipped up, eyes tortured. "Leave. Before I ruin you Kelly."
He looked away, tucking himself in, reality crashed. Tears pricked my eyes, rejection stung worse than fire. I fled, dress disheveled, pussy aching empty. In the elevator, fingers finished what he started, coming hard on visions of his cock. But hurt bloomed. Fine. If he won't, someone will.
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.
9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."
9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
8.7
I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.
7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.
8.0
After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field.
But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me.
Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk."
It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family.
The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him-all dismissed as "just business."
Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer.
"Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."