Found 5 lustful ghost Stories

She was born into a cage of blood and lies.
Selena Rossi knows two things: her mafia don father’s empire is built on corpses, and her mother’s killer walks free.
He’s the ghost in her nightmares.
Rook. Her father’s deadliest shadow. A name whispered in fear. An assassin without a face… until he’s forced into her light as her 24/7 bodyguard.
Mutual hatred is their shield.
Trapped together as bullets fly, Selena sees the flicker of pain behind his ice-cold eyes. He sees the crack in he...

Crystal. An orphan who lost her parents at a very early and tender age got the chance to be the secretary of the ruthless billionaire who's name was Red.
She disliked him and he didn't like seeing her around him but then tragedy struck. Red was attacked by someone and he went into coma at the spot. He followed his body to the hospital and when he got there, he discovered he was going to die soon.
He didn't like the fact that he was going to die without knowing who killed him and then he w...

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"Your pussy is such a slut, little one." His deep baritone echoes as he trace a wet line through my clit.
"Yes, yes." I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor.
“So…slimy with juices. My fingers ain’t even inside yet.” I swallow hard at his words, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. “Tell me, little one. How many fingers do you want inside you?”
“Two. Please give me…two, professor.” Is all I manage to say as he thrust two fingers inside me and immediately his ey...

"Your pusy is such a slut, little one." His deep baritone echoes as he trace a wet line through my clt.
"Yes, yes." I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor.
"So…slmy with juices. My fngers ain't even inside yet." I swallow hard at his words, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. "Tell me, little one. How many fngers do you want inside you?"
"Two. Please give me…two, professor." Is all I manage to say as he thust two f*ngers inside me and immediately his eyes chang...

MATURE CONTENT}
“I hate you,” I spat, my chest heaving, my voice shaking. The words burned on my tongue, but they slipped out anyway, as if saying them could hide how much my body trembled in his grip.
Isaiah smirked, that dark, wicked smile that once made me weak and now only made me furious. He leaned close, his breath hot against my ear.
“No, Church girl,” he murmured. “You don’t hate me. You hate that you still want me.”
His thumb pressed hard against my clit, slow, steady, ruthless. My ...