All Chapters of Tales of Desire: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

[Elara’s POV]My whole body lights up the second I smell Thorne coming, because these changes are hitting me hard now and I fucking hate how much I love every second of it. I can smell him on every inch of my skin even when he’s miles away scouting the borders, his scent mixed with mine, musk and sex and something wild that keeps my pussy aching and wet all day like I’m stuck in some endless heat, thighs slick, nipples hard, mind flashing back to how he fucked me last night until I couldn’t walk straight. It’s messing with my head, making me want things I never wanted before, making me crave the roughness, the ownership, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him sane, and right now that craving is the only thing stopping me from punching Kira in the face myself.She cornered me the second Thorne left, shoved me hard against a tree, bark digging into my back through my shirt, and got right up in my face, claws half out, eyes flashing gold with hate. “You’re a fucking c

[Camara’s POV]“Rising Designer Camara Accused of Attempted Murder – Fiancé in Hospital After Violent Altercation.” The words blurred for a second, then sharpened, and I felt my stomach drop the way it does on a fast elevator.Marcus had done this. My Marcus, the man who used to wake me up with coffee and playlists, who called me “baby girl” in that low drawl that used to make me smile, had taken a kitchen knife, sliced his own forearm deep enough to need stitches, smeared blood across the marble island, and then dialed 911 while he sobbed into the phone that I had attacked him in some unhinged rage. He even had the voicemail I’d left him two nights earlier—me furious, yelling that if he didn’t stop taking money out of Eclipse Atelier’s account I would ruin him—and the police had eaten it up like it was gospel. Attempted murder. The words still tasted like metal in my mouth.I sank onto the edge of the velvet sofa I kept for client fittings, knees pressed together, and scrolled throug

[Camara’s POV]I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest bedroom and smoothed the silk slip dress over my hips, telling myself it was just a dress, nothing more. The fabric was thin and cool against my skin, and every time I moved, it shifted and clung in ways I hadn’t noticed when I packed it. My heart was already beating too fast. I took one last breath, opened the door, and walked down the hallway to meet Jada.Jada waited at the bottom of the steps, barefoot in a loose linen shirt and shorts that showed off her long legs. She smiled when she saw me and held out her hand. I hesitated for half a second before I took it.We walked down the sandy path in silence at first, the night air salty and soft against my face. When we reached the beach, the waves were gentle, rolling in and out with a steady rhythm. Jada kicked off her sandals and stepped into the shallow water, tugging me with her. The ocean was cold at first, but after a few steps I stopped feeling it. She bent

[Camara’s POV ]I woke up tangled in Jada’s sheets, her leg hooked over mine, our bodies pressed skin to skin from the night before. After the pool we had stumbled here dripping wet, laughing and kissing, and collapsed into her bed without bothering to dry off. She had teased me mercilessly, whispering that she wanted me begging before she gave me anything more, so we just held each other and fell asleep like that, naked and warm and quiet. No more sex. Just the steady rise and fall of her breathing against my neck until I drifted off feeling safer than I had in months.Now the coffee scent drifted in from the tray she must have set on the nightstand while I was still half asleep. I opened my eyes and found her propped on one elbow, watching me with that soft, knowing smile that made my stomach flip every time.“Morning, sleepy,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead.I stretched and felt every place our bodies had touched overnight, the faint soreness between my leg

[Alex’s POV]The house party had died down upstairs around 2 a.m., but the real thing was always in the basement. Concrete floor, low ceiling, string lights that barely cut the dark, one beat-up couch, a couple of mattresses thrown on the ground, and a speaker thumping slow dirty bass. About twenty of us had migrated down here after the last round of shots. No invitations needed. Everyone knew the vibe: clothes optional, hands everywhere, say stop and it stops, otherwise keep going until someone collapses.I walked down the stairs in just boxer briefs, already half-hard from the sounds leaking up—moans, wet slaps, low curses. The air was thick with sweat, weed, and sex. First thing I saw was Tara on her knees in the middle of the room, surrounded by four guys. She had one cock in her mouth, deep-throating slow while her hands jerked the two on either side. The fourth stood behind her, fingers buried in her cunt, pumping fast enough that her thighs were shaking and slick ran down her l