Staring Brooklyn queen and jay cinco . Brooklyn queen is a a young stripper and jay decided to visit the strip club secretly and fell in love wiTh her . Does Brooklyn feel the same way ?

BDSM 18+ "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢. 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘴. "𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺." 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. "𝘐-𝘐..." "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱," 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬, "𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯?" 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬. Two obsessions. One girl.

Just as Annabeth's hands reached to grab the back of her jacket, Sonya pivoted smoothly, one arm coiling around Annabeth's waist like a whip. There was a sharp gasp-Annabeth's-and then her spine slammed against the edge of the bar, the breath knocked clean from her chest. Sonya's forearm pressed hard across her collarbone, pinning her in place with infuriating ease. "If you wanted my attention, sugar, all you had to do was ask," Sonya murmured, her voice sultry and rough, lips inches from Annabeth's. "Get off me," Annabeth snarled, squirming beneath her hold. Sonya arched a brow, leaning in even closer until her body molded against the younger woman's-thigh to thigh, hip to hip. "You're feistier than the girls next door," she whispered against the shell of Annabeth's ear, her breath hot. "Careful now, Anna. I've always had a thing for resistance." Annabeth jerked against her, face twisting in rage. "Let. Me. Go. You stink of whiskey and whores," she spat, kicking against Sonya's shin. Sonya didn't flinch. "Say please," she drawled, her voice silk and steel, utterly unbothered. "Manners go a long way in this town." "Never," Annabeth hissed.

"𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐩," 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝. "𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐳𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧. 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝. "𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞." 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐳𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐮𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝. "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥," 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝.

Marcy didn't mean to tempt a woman like her-the cold-eyed queenpin in tailored suits and dark blue hair, who moves like sin and makes murder look like foreplay. But one shift at Pearls & Vice in a rhinestone covered chest and a reckless heart, and suddenly she's on Clotilda's radar. Clotilda doesn't flirt. She claims. Now Marcy is waking up tangled in silk sheets, her name echoing like a curse and a prayer. She was supposed to be scared. Supposed to run. Instead, she's in the passenger seat, lipstick smudged, legs still shaking, whispering, "What are we burning next?" Dark romance. Hot girls. Bad decisions. And one suit-wearing lesbian who absolutely knows what she's doing. Welcome to your next obsession.

"Do you know what I do to girls who don't answer when they're spoken to?" she murmured, her voice dripping with quiet menace under the mask. "N-no," Salma breathed, her voice barely audible as she kept her eyes locked on Nerezza's dark eyes. Nerezza hummed, tilting Salma's chin up with a gloved hand, her grip firm but teasing. "I fuck the answers out of them," she whispered, each word slow and deliberate. ••••• Salma, a well known radio show host, is used to strange calls-but nothing like this. One Wednesday morning, an anonymous woman dials in live on air, her voice low, dripping with eerie amusement as she confesses to a murder. Convinced it's a twisted prank, Salma plays along, her tone teasing-until the caller whispers something only Salma could know. What starts as a disturbing coincidence spirals into a chilling obsession. Night after night, the woman calls back, turning Salma into her unwilling confidante, her chosen messenger. Each call comes with cryptic clues, taunts wrapped in silken words, a deadly puzzle Salma is forced to solve-because if she doesn't, she'll be the next victim. But fear gives way to fascination. Then obsession. As the game between them intensifies, Salma finds herself drawn to the voice on the other end of the line-a voice that knows her deepest fears, her darkest desires. The hunt for the truth becomes a tangled web of danger, passion, and something far more dangerous than death. They should be enemies. One is the hunter, the other the prey. But what happens when they fall in love? Written by: Tzipora Rosen Edited by: Lean Catherine Benton Disclaimer: Sexually explicit content Violence Strong language 🏆 #1 horror-thriller 🏆 #1 Toxic

teacher x student | wlw | age gap Emily had to take a year off from school because of her mental health, and now she's 18 and ready to start fresh. She's always been a straight-A student and plans to keep it that way by focusing on her studies this year. But then she meets the new English teacher, who she realizes she's seen before, although this time she seems different, more strict. Will Emily be able to stay focused, or will she find herself falling for the charms of her strict teacher? • Slow burn • Teacher x student • Age gap (24 years) ~Highest rankings~ #1 in lgbt #1 in womensfiction #1 in teacherstudent #1 in englishteacher #1 wlwteacherxstudent #2 in teacherspet #2 in women #2 in girlxwoman #2 in lesbian #3 in gxg #4 in wlw

This feels so wrong, I can't help but think as I'm perched on the edge of her desk, my legs spread wide as my knuckles turn white from gripping the edge so tightly as she sucks and bites at my inner thighs as I whimper. Her hands hold my thighs far apart, biting harder whenever I try to snap my legs shut, ignoring my whimpers for her to stop. I know she's used to doing this but I'm not. Especially not in a place so public as her office. People are almost constantly coming and going from it. I know she locked the door when she pinned me against it earlier and began smashing her lips against mine, slipping her tongue in to play with mine but I'm still anxious that someone will disturb us. My fingers grip into her hair as I pull her face away from my inner thighs, her eyes playfully glancing up at me as she notices the tomato-coloured flush covering my face. "What's wrong, lovely?" She teasingly whispers, her hands continuing to play with my thick thighs. "Come on, tell daddy what's wrong." "I'm not really comfortable..." I utter making her arch a beautiful brow. "Oh, I'm sure when I'm fucking you that'll be the last of your worries," she chuckles, standing up so that she can lean over me as one of her hands slithers around my waist to support me as I lean away from her. Without any warning she rubs her large bulge against me making a muffled moan leave my lips. She kisses and sucks at my neck, definitely going to leave hickeys as I try to resist. "Just relax for me, love. I promise I'll be gentle."For some reason I don't believe her, especially as her fingers begin to roughly rub my sensitive bundle of nerves with a sly smile. "Just enjoy the feeling. I'll make sure to take care of you if you pass out." *** Haelyn doesn't recall anything before she woke up in the middle of nowhere, her body in pain and feeling...different. She has no clue as to what happened to her until she finally can look at her new reflection.

She reaches for my right hand, brings it between her legs without asking, and drags my fingers through her. Once. Twice. Slow, filthy strokes that coat my skin in her slick heat. She's drenched, so wet the sound is unmistakable, and the scent of her arousal floods the room like a drug. She presses my soaked fingers to my mouth, smearing herself across my bottom lip, my tongue, the corner of my jaw, down the column of my throat until I taste nothing but her. Then she leans in, voice ragged against my ear. "Feel how easily I get this wet just thinking about owning you?" she whispers. "That's what you're walking away from if you don't rewrite the contract exactly how I want it." My knees go painfully numb, before I feel them again. She sees it. Her smile is slow, cruel, victorious. She steps back into the crimson silk, zips it with a sound like a blade sliding home, and smooths it over her hips as if she didn't just destroy me in under thirty seconds. _______________________________________________________________________________ Two powerful women. One vicious high-profile murder case. A private contract that binds them in ways ink never warned about; obedience traded for torment, defiance punished with slow, aching pleasure. Milan Moretti: an untouchable Chicago prosecutor, wealthy and feared, who rules courtrooms by day and claims craving women by night, denying release until they break and beg. She never loses. Never bends. Never obsesses... until Zara Winslow, her brilliant, defiant mirror, crashes back into her world and awakens something feral. Forced together amid media storms, extreme tension and secrets, their rivalry explodes into a binding agreement where desire is leverage, punishment is exquisite, and control slips into consuming obsession. Who will shatter first in her hands?

"I can be anything you want, my love," she mutters in my ear, her warm breath making my skin tingle and my body yearn for her to touch more of me than her gentle hug around my waist. While I do appreciate how gentle she is with me, right now I want more. I want more of her touch on my bare skin. I want her hands to explore me more than she's letting them. I know she wants more just like me, but she's holding back. "Oh, really?" I tease, wrapping her hair around one of my fingers and giving it a small tug, hoping that this will get her worked up. "Anything I want?" Alice hums, confirming her promise before peppering a few soft kisses along my neck while I consider my request. There's so much I could ask for. "Absolutely anything, my love." *** For those who never find pleasure easily, a creature who knows and can be their every desire is perfect - it's even better if the creature is the one lustful for them.