All Chapters of Craving Forbidden Pleasures : Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

The storm had rolled on, but the world outside the cabin was still raw from it — rain-slick earth churned into mud, broken branches strewn across the clearing, blood diluted into streaks of rust down the grass.Mara stood at the window, fists pressed against the sill, watching the two men who had just torn each other apart for her. They were shadows against a dim sky, both upright now, both breathing hard.The second Watcher leaned on a tree trunk, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling a feral, toothless smile. The first stood closer to the cabin, shoulders heaving, knife back in his hand. His face was an unreadable mask of bruises and rage.And then he turned toward her.“Inside.” His voice was low, dangerous. “Now.”Mara’s stomach clenched. Her pulse hammered in her ears. For a moment she considered staying at the window, considered refusing him outright.But she saw the way his fingers flexed around the knife. The fight had left him bloodied but not tamed.

The blade glimmered as the first Watcher dragged it slowly across the table.Not fast. Not threatening. Just enough for her to hear the scrape of steel against wood.“Proof,” he murmured, voice like gravel. “I’ve been patient, Mara. I’ve given you more rope than I should have. But you will give me what I ask for, or I will take it.”Mara’s throat worked. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt.She wanted to laugh at the irony—rope, as if he hadn’t already bound her in invisible knots.Instead she lowered her eyes, let her shoulders slump just a fraction. Not submission, not yet. But enough for him to believe she was breaking.“What do you want?” she whispered.His hand shot out, seizing her wrist. He dragged her closer until her hip pressed against the table, until the blade’s cold tip grazed her skin.“A mark,” he said. “Something only I can see. Something no man can erase.”Mara shivered, not from fear but from the sharp, strange thrill of being watched from two directions at once.B

The cabin was wreckage.Splintered wood, broken glass, blood smeared like war paint across the floorboards. Rain hissed through the gaping doorway, soaking everything in its reach.And in the center of it all, the Watchers.The first knelt, gasping, face swollen and bloodied, rage burning in his eyes. The second stood over him, chest heaving, knuckles raw, his smirk curling like the blade of a knife.But their gazes weren’t locked on each other anymore.They were fixed on her. Demanding an explanation, an answer, a solution to the dilemma which was them - her watchers. Mara stood between them, barefoot on shards of glass, her pulse rattling in her throat. The silence pressed in, heavier than the storm.The first spat blood. His voice cracked when he rasped, “Tell him, Mara. Tell him you’re mine.”The second’s grin widened, sharp and merciless. “Or tell him you’ve already left him for me.” He leaned, eyes glinting. “Either way, sweetheart, you’ll have to choose.”The walls seemed to c

The first thing Mara felt when she woke was his stare.She didn’t need to open her eyes to know. His presence pressed against her skin like a weight, heavy and invasive. When she finally dared to look, he was already there, crouched beside the mattress, his bruised face half in shadow, his storm-dark eyes locked on her.She jerked upright, heart hammering. “What—what are you doing?”“Watching you.” His voice was low, flat, as if the answer were obvious. He tilted his head slightly, like an animal testing her reaction. “You were dreaming.”Mara swallowed hard, pulse spiking. Had she whispered aloud in her sleep? Had his name slipped from her lips?“What… what did I say?” she asked carefully.His hand shot out, fingers curling around her wrist with bruising strength. He tugged her closer, his mouth brushing her ear. “Nothing. But you looked away from me. Even when your eyes were shut, you looked away.”Her stomach flipped. He was unraveling.“I wasn’t,” she whispered.“Yes, you were.” H

The cabin hadn’t stopped trembling.Every creak of wood, every groan of the wind sounded like a promise of blood. Mara sat at the table, hands folded, eyes lowered, pretending at meekness while her pulse thundered with the memory of the night before. The Second’s touch still ghosted her skin. His voice still whispered in her ear: Next time, you’ll answer.The First hadn’t spoken since.He sat across from her, hunched in the corner, a storm in human skin. His face was still bruised, a smear of dried blood marking his jaw, but it wasn’t the wounds that unsettled her. It was the silence. The way he carved lines into the wood with the tip of his knife, over and over, his eyes never leaving her.Finally, he broke.“You moved toward him.”Mara’s throat tightened. “I—”“You moved.” His voice cracked like a whip. He surged upright, knife clattering to the floor as he seized her chin. His breath was hot, sour with rage. “You thought I wouldn’t see it? You thought I wouldn’t feel you lean into