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.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
Kelly
"Girl, you need to be strong. Maybe he's just not ready... or he's scared of hurting you."
Mia's voice was soft in the dark, her hand rubbing slow circles on my back as I cried into my pillow.
I let out a bitter laugh. "What kind of man turns down a wet pussy when it's literally in his grip?"
Mia snorted, then burst out laughing. "Right? Unless... you think he's gay?"
We both collapsed into helpless giggles, the kind that only come when your heart is breaking and you're trying not to scream.
"Seriously, Kelly," she said, wiping her eyes, "you're overthinking this. You have no idea how many guys on this campus want you."
"You mean Jake?" I asked, remembering the way he'd looked at me the last time we met.
"Mmm... yeah." Mia purred the word like she was tasting it.
"I turned him down," I said, flipping my hair back.
"You what?" Mia sat up, eyes wide. "Kelly, Jake is the hottest guy in your class-and he's loaded. What the hell?"
"Yeah... so?" I shrugged.
"Jesus, bitch. If I had a body like yours, I would've rode that dude a long time ago. Anything over that cock-teasing professor of yours."
"Prof Will's dick is actually huge," I muttered. "Thick and..."
"Eww, stop!" Mia cut me off, covering her ears. "I do not need those visuals."
My phone lit up on the nightstand. Jake's name flashed across the screen.
Speak of the devil, I answered.
"Yo, shawty."
"What do you want, Jake?"
"There's a party at my place tonight. Come drown your sorrows with me."
I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
"Sure," I purred. "Get dressed, Mia. We're going out."
Jake's house pulsed with heavy bass. Red cups littered every surface, bodies grinding against each other in the dim light. I slammed back two tequila shots, letting the burn settle in my chest. My dress was already riding scandalously high on my thighs.
Jake found me on the dance floor, pressing up behind me with a grin. His hands gripped my hips as he ground against my ass, his hard cock unmistakable through his jeans.
I moaned softly, rolling my body against him, but my mind screamed one name: *Will*.
He pulled me into a dark corner, mouth crashing onto mine-rough, eager, nothing like the controlled fire I craved. His hands squeezed my breasts, fingers clumsy as they slipped into my panties.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned against my lips.
"I'm yours tonight," I whispered, tipsy and aching.
"Finally," Jake breathed, kissing down my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. "My room's upstairs."
"Lead the way."
His bedroom smelled like musk, cheap cologne, and stale beer. Posters covered the walls, empty cans scattered in the corner. He pushed me onto the mattress and stripped my dress off in seconds. I stood there naked, breasts bouncing, thong yanked to the side as his hands slid between my thighs.
"You're soaked already."
*Not for you.*
Jake's scent surrounded me, but it was Will's face that burned behind my eyes-his rejection playing on repeat. *Not like that, Kelly. I can't be your first.*
Jake's cock pressed against my entrance. His cock average, nothing like the thick monster I'd felt through Will's pants. He fumbled with a condom, then pushed in with one impatient thrust.
I gasped as the sharp burn tore through me. Virginity gone. Just like that.
"You're a virgin?" His eyes widened.
"Not anymore," I whispered.
He groaned and started pounding, hips slamming into mine, the bedframe banging against the wall. His cock stretched me, hitting deep with every thrust, balls slapping wetly against my ass.
"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, sweat dripping onto my breasts as he pinned my wrists above my head.
Pleasure built fast despite everything. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his back. "Harder," I demanded, nails raking down his shoulders. "Make me scream."
Jake obliged, fucking me relentlessly, one hand dropping to rub circles over my clit. Orgasm hit me like lightning... walls clenching, body arching as I cried out. He followed right after, groaning loudly as he spilled into the condom.
We lay tangled and panting. "Best pussy I've ever had," he mumbled, kissing my neck sloppily.
I forced a giggle, but guilt twisted in my gut. Will would hate this.
Later, I texted Will: *Tutoring tomorrow? I learned my lesson.*
No reply.
But I knew he'd seen the photos Jake posted of me laughing, drunk, and marked. *The campus party slut.*
The next morning, the campus buzzed with students rushing to class. I spotted Professor Wilson first leaning against a tree, coffee in hand, eyes locked on me like twin lasers.
Heat flooded my cheeks. He knew.
Jake's arm slung possessively around my shoulders as we walked past. "Hey, Prof! Kelly's my girl now. Tutoring really paid off, huh?" Jake smirked, completely oblivious.
Will's jaw tightened. His gaze dropped to the fresh hickey blooming on my neck... Jake's mark.
"Careful, Jake," he said, voice dangerously low. "Some lessons bite back."
His eyes burned with raw possession. My pussy clenched hard under my skirt, thighs growing slick. He turned away sharply, fists clenched at his sides.
*WILL*
Kelly's laugh rang across the grass bright, but fake. She sat with that meathead Jake, his arm draped possessively over her shoulder, hand sliding down to squeeze her thigh.
My cock twitched at the memory of her taste. *Idiot,* I cursed myself, nearly crushing the coffee cup in my grip.
I'd pushed her away to protect her. But seeing her marked by him? Rage burned hot in my chest.
By afternoon lecture, the air crackled with tension. She sat in the front row, legs crossed tightly, blouse dipping low enough to tease. My eyes kept drifting to her parted lips, and the soft swell of her cleavage.
"Friction generates heat," I said, voice rougher than intended, the chalk snapping in my fingers. *Our* friction.
After class, she lingered, packing slowly. When the last student left, I rounded the desk and loomed over her.
"Jake? Really?" Jealousy bled into every word as I braced my hands on either side of her, caging her in.
"He's good," she purred, breath catching as my thigh nudged between hers. "Makes me come hard."
My blood boiled.
"Meet me in my office. Four o'clock. We need to discuss your grade... and the tutoring sessions you've missed. Twice."
My office door opened at exactly 4:00 p.m. Jake hovered outside like a guard dog. "Make it quick," he snapped before the door clicked shut behind her.
Kelly leaned against my desk, tits straining against her blouse. "I missed your hands," she whispered, biting her lip.
"You reek of him," I growled, stepping closer.
She arched into me, nipples hard under the thin fabric. "Jealous? Then fuck me. Claim what's yours."
"I don't like sharing, and he's marked you already."
She leaned forward, pushing her breasts closer. "Then punish me, Professor."
"Watch it, Kelly."
But my cock was already rock-hard, tenting my pants. She uncrossed her legs, sliding her foot up my calf. Her hands nudged my inner thigh, then pressed firmly against my bulge.
I groaned, grabbing her them and yanking her against my throbbing cock. "Bad girl."
She rubbed me slowly while our eyes locked.
Tension snapped.
I gripped her chin hard, thumb brushing her lower lip, and shoved her panties aside. Two fingers plunged deep into her dripping cunt. She gasped, grinding desperately against my hand as I finger-fucked her against the desk, swallowing her moans with a brutal kiss.
Her pussy gripped me like wet silk-hot, greedy, perfect. Jake's laugh filtered through the door. I yanked my fingers out, her whine desperate and furious.
"Go back to him," I rasped, stepping away even as it tore me apart.
She glared, lips swollen, skirt rumpled. "Fuck you."
The door slammed behind her.
Alone, I punched the desk, regret choking me. She was destroying me.
You may also like
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."