All Chapters of Crave: Wicked Desires: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

“Didn’t you say you wanted my dick in your mouth?” Jason growled as he slapped his thick length across my lips, then smacked it against both cheeks with a heavy, wet thwack.“You like it, don’t you? Getting used by random men while your husband’s out working his pathetic nine-to-five?” he taunted.I nodded, shameless, desperate.“Use your words, babygirl,” he said, slapping my cheek again, this time just enough to make my breath hitch.“Yes,” I rasped, voice cracked and shaky from how much I wanted it.“You wanna feel our dicks stuffing every tight hole on your body?” Alex asked as he pulled his cock free, slowly stroking it in his fist.“Yes… please,” I begged, breath hitching as Ricky stepped in, taking Jason’s place and offering me his cock. I opened wide and welcomed it, humming the moment the thick head slid over my tongue and filled my mouth. Spit dripped down my chin as I worked him, savoring the weight and taste of him on my tongue.Their hands were everywhere—rough palms grab

“Yes… Please. Piss all over my body,” I moaned, arching my back, my ass high in the air. Jason slapped it hard, over and over, until I could barely feel the sting from the last one before another followed. I could only imagine how raw and red it looked.I gasped as Alex’s hot piss sprayed across my ass and lower back. It was filthy. Disgustingly perfect. And I fucking loved it.“Come here,” Jason growled. Like the good, cock-hungry girl I was, I obeyed. “I want to fuck that ass of yours,” he added, already stroking his thick cock as I settled between his thighs.One leg hung over the arm of the couch, the other bent next to his hip. He rubbed the head of his dick around my tight, used hole, smearing his precum like lube. Then he slowly pushed in, splitting me open inch by inch as I clung to his neck for balance.He thrust his hips up, slamming deeper inside me, then slid almost all the way out before pounding back in hard enough to make the couch shake.He moaned—deep, rough—and dropp

I shouldn’t have come out here. Not alone. Not during mating season. Not after what he did to me. But I needed the silence. The trees. The cold air biting through my hoodie. Something that didn’t smell like him or sound like him or feel like his hands still trying to hold me down in the middle of an apology. I found a clearing not far off the trail—half-dead pine trees, a slope of wet moss, and nothing but wind. Sat down on a fallen log, lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, and tugged my dick out of my jeans like I was daring the forest to stop me. “This is your fault,” I muttered to myself as I stroked slow and mean, smoke curling out from my lips. “Your dumbass idea of closure.” The forest didn’t answer. It never did, except in legends. Some locals said these woods weren’t safe during the first frost. Said something big and primal stirred once a year, hungry and rutting, and if you wandered too deep into his territory, he’d take you. Not kill. Not maul. Take you.

I woke up face down in the dirt. My back ached. My thighs burned. My ass—wrecked. The dull throb of his knot leaving me sometime in the night still pulsed low in my spine. Every part of me felt bruised, stretched, owned. And he was still there. Behind me. Pressed to my back like a furnace, cock still hard, knot swollen again, dragging along my ruined hole like he’d been waiting for me to stir so he could slip back in. “You’re awake,” he said like it meant something. I tried to roll over, but he didn’t let me. “Where do you think you’re going?” “My car,” I muttered, voice wrecked. “My clothes.” “No.” He bent over me, breath hot on my neck. “You don’t need them.” “You—fuck—you’ve had me twice already—” “And I’ll have you again.” His fingers trailed between my legs, right over the mess he made. I winced, hips twitching, still sore. “Still leaking,” he murmured, smug. “Didn’t hold it like you were supposed to.” I flinched as he pushed two fingers into me. Just l

His breath hitched ragged and loud as I leaned against him, my legs still shaky from the orgasm he’d licked out of me. He was trembling—no, shaking—his massive chest rising and falling in stuttering gasps. His clawed fingers flexed and curled like he was holding something back. “Please,” he whispered again, voice breaking. “Let me inside. I—can’t—breathe.” I nodded, too wrecked to speak. And that was all he needed. A guttural sob tore from his throat as his claws hooked into my jacket, and with one violent rip, he tore it open like it was paper. Buttons scattered across the cave floor. My shirt followed—shredded in seconds—then my bra, my jeans, my underwear. Everything was gone in a flurry of growls and clawed hands until I was naked in front of him, shivering not from cold—but from the way he looked at me. Like I was salvation and sin wrapped into one. He moved fast—faster than something that size should. One arm hooked under my thigh, lifting me like I weighed nothing. T