Todos los capítulos de Lustful Desires (Erotic Shorts): Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

“Say your word if it’s too much,” he said, breathing hard. “I need to hear you.”She choked out, “Green. So green.”That was all he needed.They moved in sync, bodies flushed, breaths ragged. Her blindfold slipped slightly, and she let out a low whimper as light crept into her world again, just enough to see his eyes watching her with pure hunger.He thrusted harder, slower and faster depending on how he felt was best for her."oh...my... god..." Jasmine whimpered."yh baby..." Theo moans out as he thrust harder and harder.He grabbed her breasts as he caressed the nipples with his thumb. The thrust was getting more deeper, faster and the clit popped out it's pinkish point which he caressed and fucked her at the same time.When the orgasm hit, she fell into it with him, gripping the ropes as her body trembled. At some point, she wanted to free herself and the next moment, she wanted to be held captive and been watched come.Theo untied her slowly afterward, kissing her wrists tenderly

The late afternoon sun was pouring lazily through the living room curtains of Theo’s apartment, filling the space with a warm golden glow. Yes, he got his own apartment.The air smelled faintly of coffee and the vanilla-scented candle Jasmine had lit earlier. Outside, the city was alive with distant honks and chatter, but in here, it was just the two of them, a little pocket of peace in the middle of everything.Theo had just come in from a quick errand, keys jingling as he tossed them onto the kitchen counter. He was still wearing his white shirt and black trousers from earlier, his hair slightly messy from the breeze outside. Jasmine was curled up on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, legs tucked under her, scrolling lazily on her phone.“Hey, future Mrs. Theo Carter,” he greeted with a grin, tossing his wallet onto the side table.She looked up at him with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “Hey yourself, future Dad.”Theo froze halfway to the fridge. “Future… what now?”

The next morning, Lena woke with the taste of restless dreams still on her tongue. She had dreamt of paintings, not hers, not even Damien’s exactly but strange, incomplete shapes bleeding into one another, shadows that felt warm when they brushed against her skin.It was ridiculous. She didn’t even know the man. Yet somehow, after a single night of reading about him, it was as though he had crawled into her head and rearranged the furniture.The kettle whistled sharply in her tiny kitchen. She poured the hot water over instant coffee and sat at the wobbly table, laptop open in front of her again. Damien’s paintings glowed from the screen like they had been waiting for her.It wasn’t just the nudity. That much she could admit now.It was the way the subjects looked like they had been seen, not glanced at, not ogled, but seen in the way that stripped away all the safe masks people wore in public.And that was the problem.If he could pull that out of other people, what would he pull out

Leah walked out of Damien Cross’s studio with her jacket wrapped tightly around her, even though the evening breeze was mild. Her steps were steady, but her mind wasn’t. It was everywhere. Every click of her heels against the pavement seemed to echo with his words...“Relax your mouth… feel your body.”Those simple instructions had slipped past her skin and burrowed inside her like seeds waiting to bloom. She had never thought a voice could follow her so closely. It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it. Calm. Slow. Like he was peeling away layers of her defenses without even raising a hand.The world outside moved as usual, cars honking, people chatting, neon lights buzzing awake but for Leah, everything was muted. The memory of Damien’s steady gaze had cast a shadow on her evening. It felt as though he hadn’t just watched her during the session, but touched her without touching her. Every time she blinked, she saw his eyes lingering on her, tracing the lines of her body in

Lena couldn’t quite explain why her hands felt clammy when she stood in front of Damien’s door the next afternoon. She had been preparing herself all morning, replaying their last session in her head like an old movie reel. The way his eyes had lingered longer than before, the way his voice seemed softer, almost careful when he explained his craft. It had left her restless, tossing in her bed, unable to chase away the feel of his invisible touch.And now, here she was, sweater clutched around her, knocking on his studio door with her heartbeat fluttering faster than it should.Damien opened the door like he always did, calm, collected, his shirt sleeves rolled up, paint already smeared faintly across his hands as though he had been working since dawn.“You’re early,” he said in that deep, steady voice.“I… couldn’t stay home,” Lena admitted, half-laughing, half-nervous.He gave her a long look, the kind that made her stomach dip, then stepped aside. “Come in.”The studio was as it alw