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The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) NOT WANTING HIM
CAMILLAThe word tasted bitter on my tongue. I repeated it anyway, like a prayer, and like a curse because goddess help me, I needed it.Without it, I would’ve already fucked, fought, or flat-out murdered a certain blue-eyed bastard with veiny forearms and long fingers that looked far too skilled at wrecking a woman’s resolve.I squeezed my thighs together.No.No, no, no.This was not happening again. Not over him. Not over Rhysand, and yet my brain betrayed me.My body betrayed me. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his hands again. The way he manhandled me in the war room, the way he pressed me down like he owned me, like I wanted to be owned. The way his hips aligned with mine, grinding, hard and hot and maddening.The way he fucked me with his fingers and left me wanton.I cursed under my breath.Hell would freeze before I admitted that Rhysand, Alpha asshole of the year was the reason I couldn’t focus this morning. I couldn’t breathe without feeling the ghost of him between my
The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) PUNISHMENT
CAMILLA I hated myself.No matter how hard I tried to focus, on my training, on the Pack's growing territory disputes, even on my damn coffee, I couldn’t stop replaying the night before. Every sharp touch, every growled word from Rhysand echoed in my skull like a curse. It wasn’t supposed to happen.I wasn’t supposed to let him touch me like that. Use me like that and yet…Goddess, my body betrayed me.The way his hands had pinned me, the way I’d arched into him instead of pulling away, it made my stomach twist. I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve walked away the moment his lips crashed onto mine. But I didn’t and now I was left with a memory that was equal parts shame and unbearable heat.I scrubbed the inside of my mug with more force than necessary, standing at the Pack house kitchen sink. The ceramic clinked dangerously against the counter, but I didn’t care. Let it break. Everything else already had.Worse than my shame, though, was him. Rhysand. Acting like nothing had happ
The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) WRECKED
CAMILLA I screamed his name, body arching off the bed as he filled me, stretched me, and ruined me. My mind went white. He groaned above me, his voice raw, and reverent.He didn’t move at first.He just hovered over me, buried to the hilt, his breath hot and ragged against my neck. His arms trembled with restraint, muscles coiled tight like he was holding back a storm he barely had the leash on.But then his eyes, gods, his eyes snapped to mine. Black, wild, and ferocious, and he broke.Rhysand tore out of me almost completely, the loss sharp, jarring only to slam back in with a brutal, claiming thrust that knocked the breath from my lungs and sent a scream tearing from my throat. “Fuck!”The headboard cracked against the wall behind us, again and again, but he didn’t give a damn. He was lost. Completely gone, and unleashed.His hips snapped forward with vicious precision, every thrust deeper, rougher, and angrier as if he was trying to erase anyone who’d ever touched me. As if he
The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) BEG
CAMILLA That shattered the last thread of his restraint.He crashed into me, his mouth, his body, and his everything. It wasn’t a kiss, it was a fucking collision. Hot, angry, and wild. His teeth caught my bottom lip, his tongue claiming mine like he had every right, and maybe he did.I moaned into him, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifted me like I weighed nothing, slamming me back against the wall.His cock, thick, and hard, grinding against my soaked core through layers of fabric which made me cry out. Even clothed, it was torture; pure, filthy torture.I hated him. I did but my body wanted him. His hips ground into me like punishment, hard and relentless, the pressure dragging another breathy cry from my throat. His cock pressed right where I needed him, even through his pants, and it was maddening, not enough, but still too much to ignore.“You say you hate me,” Rhysand growled, mouth grazing my jaw, breath hot and dangerous. “But your pussy’s soaked for me. You’re
The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) I HATE YOU
CAMILLA Oh my…I found my heat, wet and throbbing and I gasped, my head tilting back as I dragged two fingers through my slick folds. My clit pulsed beneath the pads of my fingers, aching for the friction I’d denied myself all week.I circled it slowly, deliberately, then dipped lower, coating my fingers in the proof of just how badly I wanted him, still wanted him. The memory of his body against mine, the way he growled my name into my neck, the tension that snapped when he talked dirty to me…I bit my lip and moaned softly, sliding a finger inside myself, then another, imagining it was his cock instead, thick and relentless, stretching me open. My hips rolled instinctively, chasing the rhythm, the release, the echo of him.He made me furious. He made me wild, and I wanted him like sin.Forbidden… but sweet."Rhysand," his name escaped my lips involuntarily.Just saying his name made my back arch.My fingers moved faster, slick and frantic, stroking in time with the memory of his
The Den of Desires (Erotica Short Stories) YEARNING
CAMILLA I twirled the last bit of wine in my glass, leaning back against the bar and letting my eyes scan the crowd. The room was buzzing with polished smiles and forced conversations, exactly the kind of gathering I usually enjoyed. But tonight, I felt… out of place.Hayden had been by my side earlier, keeping me company with his usual charm and snide commentary. That had lasted all of twenty minutes before he spotted the Omega prince from the southern provinces, the one he’d been very not-so-subtly sneaking around with. The second their eyes met, he gave me a sheepish grin and muttered a rushed, “You understand, right?”And of course, I did. Hayden deserved a little reckless joy.But now I was alone, and I hated the way my mind kept circling back to him… to Rhysand.Another sip of wine. Cool. Useless. It did nothing to drown the memory of his voice, low, rough, and made to be whispered in dark places. The way he’d looked at me like he wanted to ruin me.My skin still tingled, l
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