ห้องสมุด
ค้นหา
หน้าหลัก / Romance / Wet Confessions / Confession No.  44: To Touch the Beast: My Sacred Fall in the Temple of Dust

แชร์

Confession No.  44: To Touch the Beast: My Sacred Fall in the Temple of Dust

ผู้เขียน: Gabriella4whyte
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-07-23 22:32:37

Confession recovered from the lost Temple of Aeyra. Bound in crimson silk and sealed with sacred wax.

They say the desert never forgets. But the dunes of Arkenash buried my shame under layers of scorched sand, swallowing the echo of my moans where no goddess dared listen.

His name was Daryth Vorn. The Beast of Istavar. The man who would unmake me.

The first time I saw him, I was in a trance, draped in sheer ceremonial veils, preparing a sacred oil bath for the goddess's blessing. The temple's dome was wide open to the heavens, letting the scent of saffron, myrrh, and anticipation fill the sacred chamber. I had not known a man's gaze until then. The acolytes whispered of lust. I knew only prophecy until he arrived.

He did not speak when he entered. He didn't have to. The temple guards fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hush in deference to his presence. I knew who he was by the iron in his stare and the heat crawling between my thighs. I knelt, head bowed, hiding the way my nipples b
อ่านหนังสือเล่มนี้ต่อได้ฟรี
สแกนรหัสเพื่อดาวน์โหลดแอป
บทที่ถูกล็อก
บทที่แล้ว บทต่อไป

บทล่าสุด

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 97: The Weekend I Shouldn’t Have Taken

    i should never have told her about Frank. Not about the way he spoke to me, not about the pull he had over me, and definitely not about the things we shared in the dark hours between midnight and dawn.It had started innocently if anything between us could ever be called innocent.We met on a dating site meant for fleeting connections, yet somehow, our conversations felt anything but fleeting. Frank had a way of speaking that slid under my guard, a way of noticing the things no one else paid attention to.He made me feel seen dangerously.Soon, our chats stretched longer, deeper. We talked about everything work, fears, fantasies, the versions of ourselves we never showed the world. The tension between us grew like something alive, humming beneath every message, every call.Then came the video calls.The late nights.The moments where silence said more than any words we dared speak.There were times when his voice alone made my breath catch, when the space between us felt thin enough t

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 96: Eve's Garden

    The Study of Sin(Eve’s POV)The first time I saw him, he was already speaking.No introduction, no greeting, just words, low and steady, cutting through the hum of restless students like a blade.“The story of the fall isn’t about punishment,” Dr. Holt said, chalk tapping the board. “It’s about awakening. The first sin was knowledge.”The lecture hall stilled. Rows of notebooks hung open, pens frozen. I’d expected another dull theology course filled with rote recitation and inherited reverence. Instead, he spoke like a man trying to reason with fire.He looked older than the photographs in the university catalogue grey threaded through his dark hair, glasses balanced low on the bridge of his nose. His posture was austere, but there was something deliberate in the way he moved, as though he knew he was being watched and didn’t trust himself to notice who was watching back.I shouldn’t have stared. But curiosity is its own prayer.He turned from the board, eyes scanning the room. When

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 95:Bite Me Once

    Part I — The OfferingAria’s POVThe mountains looked alive when the carriage began its climb veins of black rock glowing faintly red beneath the snow, as if the world itself were bleeding from an old wound.Aria Dane pressed her gloved hand against the windowpane, watching her reflection blur in the mist. The road to the citadel twisted like a scar through the forest; even the trees seemed to lean away from it. Every heartbeat sounded louder the closer they came.They called this place Valenor Keep. The heart of the vampire kingdom. The end of her freedom.When the carriage stopped, she felt it in her bones that stillness that comes before surrender. A soldier opened the door and offered his arm, but she stepped down alone. The air bit through her cloak; it smelled of frost, iron, and something faintly sweet like dying roses.Above her, the citadel rose from the cliffside spires and arches carved from obsidian stone. No light burned in its windows. The place seemed to breathe dark

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 94: The Anonymous Call

    The Voice at MidnightThe clock on her nightstand blinked 11:47 PM in quiet defiance.Rain tapped against the windowpanesoft, rhythmic, relentless filling the silence that had settled too heavily over her apartment.Lila lay in bed, one hand curled against her chest, the other hovering over her phone. The hotline number glowed faintly in her recent calls list.She shouldn’t. She’d promised herself last time was the last time.But promises made in the daylight don’t hold up at night.Her apartment felt too still like even the walls were listening. The air carried the faint hum of the city, the whisper of thunder somewhere far away, and the quick, uneven tempo of her own breath.She pressed call before her courage could disappear.A soft click.Then a voice low, calm, steady as a heartbeat.“Confession Line. You’re safe here.”Her breath hitched. “I, I know,” she said softly. “It’s me again.”A pause. Then a sound something between a sigh and a smile.“I remember your voice.”Her pulse

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 93: My Mother’s Boss

    The First EncounterThe elevator doors glided open with a soft chime, and Elena Moore stepped into the marble bright lobby of Royce Enterprises. Her heart thudded faster than her heels clicking on the floor. Everything about the place felt cold, expensive, and impossibly precise like the man who owned it.Her mother had described him countless times: Mr. Kellan Royce doesn’t tolerate mistakes. He’s brilliant, but intimidating. Always on time. Always watching.And now, Elena was standing in his world, wearing one of her mother’s tailored blazers that didn’t quite fit, clutching a folder that trembled faintly in her hands.She was only meant to fill in for a week. Just type a few memos, file some contracts, deliver coffee nothing complicated. Still, she felt the weight of eyes following her as she passed the glass offices. The employees were quiet, their conversations clipped. The whole building seemed to breathe under his authority.When she reached his floor, she hesitated outside the

  • Wet Confessions   Confession No. 92:The Mafia’s Debt

    The debt was written in numbers, but it was collected in flesh.Sofia’s father had whispered warnings all her life about men like him. Men who wore suits sharper than knives, whose shadows stretched longer than the law itself. Yet here she was, standing in the lion’s den, the scent of cigar smoke and leather thick in the air, as the mafia boss leaned back in his chair and looked her over like she was already his.“Your father is a careless man,” he said, his voice low and velvet dark. “But his greatest mistake wasn’t gambling away money. It was offering me the one thing I can’t buy.”Sofia swallowed hard, her pulse hammering. “And what’s that?”His eyes burned into hers, cold and hot at the same time. “You.”The words sank into her bones, a chain she couldn’t shake off. She hated the shiver that ran through her, hated that a part of her wondered how it would feel to be touched by hands that could both destroy and protect.This was no deal. This was a sentence.And yet, as his gaze dra

บทอื่นๆ

บางทีคุณอาจจะชอบ

สำรวจและอ่านนวนิยายดีๆ ได้ฟรี
เข้าถึงนวนิยายดีๆ จำนวนมากได้ฟรีบนแอป GoodNovel ดาวน์โหลดหนังสือที่คุณชอบและอ่านได้ทุกที่ทุกเวลา
อ่านหนังสือฟรีบนแอป
สแกนรหัสเพื่ออ่านบนแอป
DMCA.com Protection Status