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Her Dirty Little Games (An Erotica Collection) Novel Cover

Her Dirty Little Games (An Erotica Collection)

Beyond polite boundaries lies a world of dangerous pleasure and raw hunger. This collection explores forbidden cravings, from a gynecologist crossing lines with a patient to a reverend's wife indulging in Sunday sins. A virgin student learns dark lessons from her lecturer, while a nanny becomes an irresistible temptation for her boss. Forget fairy tales; these stories trade soft kisses for dripping lust and unholy, provocative encounters.
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Chapter 3

I stepped out of Dr. Cole's office, my legs still trembling, my skin flushed from his touch. The air-conditioned hallway felt too cold against my overheated body, but I barely noticed.

What I did notice were the eyes.

The nurse at the station... the same one who had called me back, was staring.

Her gaze flicked down to my short skirt, then back up to my face, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Did she know?

A thrill shot through me. Had I been loud?

Well, at this point I didn't care.

With a slow, deliberate sway in my hips, I walked past her, heading for the exit.

The click of my heels echoed in the silent hallway, I was almost at the door when a voice called out behind me.

"Miss? Wait."

I turned and a different nurse I hadn't seen before was holding out a plain white envelope.

"This is for you."

I took it, my fingers brushing against hers. "Who's it from?"

She shrugged. "I was just told to give it to you."

Curious, I tucked it into my purse and left.

By the time I got home, my nerves were humming. I locked my apartment door behind me, kicked off my heels, and tore it open.

Inside was a single USB drive. No note. No explanation.

My pulse spiked.

I grabbed my laptop, my fingers trembling as I inserted the drive. A single video file popped up. I clicked play, and my heart stopped.

The screen was filled with a grainy image of me. Bent over the exam table, my skirt hiked Dr. Cole's hands gripping my hips as he fucked me from behind. My moans filled the room, loud and shameless.

"Oh my God."

My stomach twisted. Who recorded this?

The camera angle was high, like it had been hidden somewhere in the room.

I slammed my laptop shut, my breath coming in short gasps. Who the hell sent this to me?

Was it him? Did Dr. Cole record us?

Or... was it someone else?

A slow, dangerous heat curled in my stomach.

Because despite the fear, the violation... my body reacted. My thighs pressed together, wet all over again and a shiver ran down my spine. There was only one way to find out.

 I was going to ask him tonight. 

*****************

My alarm blared, jolting me from a restless sleep. I hadn't meant to doze off, but my body was still wrung out from earlier.

No time to waste. I jumped up, heading straight for the bathroom. The shower was quick, after a few minutes, I stepped out, toweled off, and faced the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my lips swollen from where l'd bitten them. I looked... wrecked.

Good.

I reached for the short red dress l'd laid out earlier and slipped it on. It was perfect, and damn revealing.

I swiped a deep red lipstick across my lips slowly, watching my reflection darken into something sinful. Perfect.

My phone buzzed on the counter and a single message popped up.

Dr. Cole: Outside.

Two words. That's all it took to send my pulse skittering.

I took a deep breath, grabbing my purse and slipping my feet into strappy heels.

One last glance in the mirror. One last chance to back out.

But the heat between my thighs said hell no.

The night air was so cold, clinging to my skin as I stepped outside. His car was packed out, the passenger door opened before I reached it.

And there he was.

Dr. Ethan Cole.

He wore a black suit, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the strong line of his throat. But his eyes-fuck, his eyes...  were pure heat, raking over me like he wanted to devour me right there on the sidewalk.

"You're late," he murmured, but the smirk on his lips said he didn't mind.

I slid into the seat beside him, the leather cool against my bare thighs. "Had to look good for you."

His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, lingering on the swell of my breasts.

A slow, wicked grin curled his mouth. "Fuck 'good.' You look ruinous." His fingers were already twitching like he couldn't keep them to himself. "This dress should be illegal."

I arched a brow, biting my lip just to watch his eyes darken. "Arrest me, then."

A growl rumbled in his chest. Then he placed his hand on me, sliding up my thigh. "Stop teasing me baby girl." 

My pulse hammered as his touch climbed higher, pushing the hem of my dress up. His palm burned against my inner thigh, inching toward where I was already wet.

"Ethan..." I gasped.

"Quiet." His fingers slipped under the lace of my panties, and I jolted.

He dragged a finger through my slickness. I whimpered, my hips lifting shamelessly into his touch.

 "I was going to wait until we get there." His free hand grabbed mine, pressing it against the hard bulge in his pants. "Look what you do to me."

God. He was so fucking hard.

"So?" I breathed, rocking against his fingers. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He chuckled and placed his lips on mine, kissing me roughly... his tongue claiming my mouth as his fingers pushed inside my pussy. I moaned and arched my back, but then, he tore his lips away with a snarl.

His eyes locked on mine as he brought his glistening fingers to my lips.

"Taste yourself," he ordered, pressing them against my tongue.

I sucked them clean, watching his jaw tighten.

"Good girl." His hand slid to the back of my neck, yanking me close. "Now move to the back and get on your knees."

His words sent a lightning strike of heat straight to my core. I didn't hesitate. I clambered over the center console, my dress riding up, my heels catching on the leather, but I didn't care.

I went on all fours. Just like he wanted.

The back seat was spacious, but I made myself small, bending forward until my ass was high in the air, my cheek pressed against the cool leather.

I heard him shift behind me, the rustle of fabric as he undid his belt, the low groan he couldn't stifle.

"Fuck," he muttered. 

"Look at you."

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