Touch me tender, Break me wild: Short, Steamy Erotica Compilations

Pleasure is a strange, holy thing. It begins where reason ends—in the quiet space between a heartbeat and a breath, where thought dissolves and instinct takes control. Humans call it many names: desire, lust, hunger, need. But stripped bare, it’s nothing more than the body remembering it was made to feel.

And now, welcome to TOUCH ME TENDER, BREAK ME WILD!!!!

DROP YOUR HOME TRAINING IN A TRASH CAN AND EXPERIENCE THIS PLEASURE, LOVES!!

STORY 1: Needing you again

~Zendaya~

"Of all people to be trapped with during a thunderstorm.. it had to be you?"

That's the first thing I say the moment lightning flashes outside my bakery window and Malachi freaking Meadows shuts the door behind him, dripping rain all over my freshly mopped floor.

He looks up from where he's shaking the water out of his hair like some sexy, smug golden retriever and says, "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what? Flooding my floor?"

"From saving your pretty ass from being electrocuted by that flickering streetlight out there," he says, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. "You should really fix that thing."

I throw him a glare so sharp, it's enough to cut glass. "I was doing fine until you barged in here looking like a wet crime scene."

He smirks. "Correction, A sexy wet crime scene. Whatever that means."

I groan infuriatingly. "God, strike him. I'm giving you the permission to do so now."

Outside, the thunder rolls like the universe is considering it.

I removed the cardigan I wore, I was starting to feel so hot. The scent of sandalwood mixed with a touch of rain-soaked air filled the bakery, and I knew one thing, it belonged to only one person— Malachi.

I sigh. He was still staring at me with that annoyingly calm expression that I hated or thought I hated. He's wearing that stupid black shirt, soaked through, clinging to muscles I definitely shouldn't be noticing. Fuck, fuck my hormones.

I clear my throat and at the same time clear any forbidden thoughts that were trying to make their way into my mind.

"You can sit by the door and wait for the rain to stop. Preferably in silence."

He raises an eyebrow. "What if it doesn't stop?"

I roll my eyes at his stupid question. "Then you can swim the fuck home."

The rain pounds harder, thunder cracking so loud the windows tremble.. and then darkness swallows everything.

"Oh, how great.." I mutter. "A very perfect way to ruin the rest of my evening. This was just what I needed. Some fucking blackout and an idiot."

"Relax, sugar," he says from somewhere near the counter.

I couldn't help but notice how low and sexy it sounded. "Oh, shit! I'm screwed if I keep this up."

A small glow cuts through the dark, and I guess the glow is from his phone.

I jump on seeing him standing so close. "That was freaking scary, Meadows. "

He didn't say anything. His face was lit by the soft blue light. His eyes look darker, and the gaze he gave me was enough to make my pussy throb. I pressed my legs together, not wanting him to know I was fighting with my own hormones. Fighting with the urge not to get my panties wet. Fucking ovulation.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, trying so hard to sound unaffected.

He takes a slow step closer, and now I could feel his breath on my face. "Because you haven't stopped glaring at me since ages.. and I really want you to stop."

My heart stumbles. "You are the reason I do. If only you hadn't cheated on me then... If only you..."

His lips crashes into mine and my eyes widens in shocked surprise.

It's not gentle. It's years of teasing, months of tension, a thousand unsaid things packed into one reckless, hungry kiss.

Before my brain loses itself, I try to hold onto it. I shove him so hard that he staggers before regaining his stand. My cold eyes lock onto his, the man that I once loved with every fiber of my being. He had shattered my trust, crushed my soul, and left me to pick up the pieces.

Three years had passed since that fucking day when I discovered his infidelity. Three damn years of pretending to be okay, of hiding the pain behind a mask of indifference and sarcasms. But the wound never healed. It only festered, a constant reminder of the lies, the deceit, the fucking heartbreak.

And now, just in the last few months, he moved into my neighbourhood, coming constantly to my bakery, the place where I poured my heart and soul into creating something beautiful. A new life. The only place where I could find solace, where I escaped the pain he caused.

Tears fall from my eyes as I find him in the dark. My body reacted before my mind could catch up. My hand swung out, connecting with his chest with a resounding thud. Hot, bitter tears streamed down my face, as the impact of his betrayal came crashing in on me all over again. I keep on hitting his chest over and over again. Three years of frustrations, three years of missing his touch. Three years of not knowing what actually happened that night.

"How could you..." I whispered, my voice trembling with rage and sorrow. “How could you do that to me?" Tears spill out of me like a fountain of gushing water. The pain was overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashed over me, threatening to consume me whole. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to find a lifeline to cling to.

He pull me towards his chest, while I still hit him. His scent filled my entire nostrils, and I have this great urge to inhale more, to fill my lungs with the scent I've missed so much.

"I'm so sorry, Zee. I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" I laughed, the sound bitter and mocking. "You're sorry? You broke me, Malacia, you fucking shattered me and..and you stand here saying you're sorry. You—"

He didn't let me finish as he, again, crash his lips into mine and I didn't know what to feel this time. Maybe.. maybe I was just too tired to continue fighting my feelings off. Or maybe I was just a little stupid to still crave him after all he did to me.

My fists unclenches slowly inside his damp shirt as I pulled him closer, tasting him for the first time in years. Every breath is a war between hate and hunger, anger and something dangerously close to want.

Lightning flashes, illuminating us for half a heartbeat. His mouth trails down to my neck, and I tilt my head back, every nerve screaming yesss when my brain keeps whispering nooo.

"I've missed this, Zee." His breath was ragged. "I've missed you so much that you can't even imagine."

I'm about to say something, but then his lips brush that spot right under my ear, and every coherent thought disintegrates. My fingers clutch at the edge of the table behind me, the scent of flour mixing with his cologne, and for a dizzy second, I swear I could melt right into him.

I need to feel him inside me, and this time the real him. Not just me dreaming, fantasizing about him fucking me full. I want his cock to fill my pussy.

My pain was trying to let me see reasons not to feel this need, this desire, but I have to have him, and not just a fake fucking cock or a vibrator.

I have to have Malachi Meadows cock deep inside my pussy.