Semua Bab Midnight Cravings: A Forbidden collection : Bab 331 - Bab 340

The Arcane Archives felt heavier tonight, the floating candle orbs burning a deep, sultry crimson. I arrived wearing nothing but a thin silk robe that Elias had left for me at the entrance — the fabric so sheer it barely qualified as clothing. My skin already tingled with anticipation and nerves.Elias stood waiting beside the large reading table, holding a slim, black-bound manuscript with silver edges. The title shimmered faintly: The Voyeur’s Manuscript — Confessions of Hidden Desire.“Tonight’s text requires an audience,” he said, voice low and commanding. “A single masked scholar has been granted permission to observe from the viewing alcove. The mirror is one-way enchanted — he can see and hear everything, but we cannot see him. You will read the passages aloud while I take you against the glass. The manuscript feeds on the thrill of being watched.”My stomach flipped with dark excitement and shame. “Someone will watch us?”“Someone will watch *you*,” Elias corrected, stepping

Aria’s body still trembled on the black silk sheets, aftershocks of her first orgasm rippling through her like electric currents. Her thighs were slick, her chest heaving as she stared up at Damien Vale — her boss, her tormentor, and now the man who had just finger-fucked her into oblivion with two thick digits and a wicked smirk.He loomed over her like a god of sin, shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the dark trail of hair disappearing into his unbuckled pants. His steel-gray eyes burned with raw hunger as he slowly licked her wetness from his fingers, savoring every drop like it was the finest whiskey.“Mmm,” he groaned, voice low and filthy. “So fucking sweet. Two years of watching you prance around my office in those tight little skirts, and your virgin cunt tastes even better than I imagined. You’ve been dripping for me all this time, haven’t you, little secretary?”Aria’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment and fresh arousal. She pressed her thighs

The iron gates of Blackthorn Manor creaked open like the jaws of something ancient and hungry. Rain lashed the windshield of my old car as I drove up the winding gravel path, my gloved hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles ached. I was twenty-two, cursed since birth, and tonight I was walking into the one place that might save me… or destroy me completely.The curse had ruined my life. One bare touch from my skin and the person on the receiving end was flooded with overwhelming, agonizing pleasure — so intense it could drive them to madness or leave them addicted for life. My own family had learned that the hard way. After what happened to my cousin when I was sixteen, I started wearing gloves, long sleeves, and never letting anyone get close. But the loneliness was killing me. I needed the curse gone.Blackthorn Manor loomed ahead — a gothic monstrosity of dark stone and ivy-covered towers, lightning flashing behind its spires. I killed the engine and stepped ou

The third night in Blackthorn Manor, the curse had already begun to change me.I could feel it in the way my skin tingled even when Cassian wasn’t touching me — a constant, low hum of hunger just beneath the surface. Every brush of silk against my nipples or the seam of my robe against my clit made me clench with need. The isolation was driving me mad. I hadn’t been allowed to touch myself since arriving, and the denial was becoming its own kind of ritual.When Cassian summoned me to the ritual chamber at midnight, I was already wet.The room looked different tonight. The altar had been pushed aside. In its place stood a wide, low platform covered in black velvet, surrounded by glowing runes etched into the floor. Chains with soft leather cuffs dangled from the ceiling above it. The air smelled heavier — richer with incense and the faint metallic tang of old magic.Cassian waited for me in only loose black pants, his tattooed chest bare and gleaming in the candlelight. His emerald

On the fifth night, Cassian told me we were leaving Blackthorn Manor.“The curse is reaching a critical phase,” he said as he helped me into a long, elegant black gown that hugged every curve. The fabric was thin enough that my nipples showed faintly through it, and the slit up one thigh revealed plenty of leg. “There’s a gathering of occult practitioners tonight — a neutral ground where curses and bindings are discussed. I need to observe how the curse reacts in the presence of other magic users. You will attend as my companion. No one touches you but me.”My stomach twisted with nerves and dark excitement. After four nights of intense, private rituals, the idea of being out in public while the curse burned inside me felt dangerously thrilling.The gathering was held in an abandoned cathedral on the outskirts of the city, its stained-glass windows glowing with eerie inner light. Masked figures in dark robes moved through the nave like shadows. Incense smoke curled through the air,