Todos os capítulos de LUSTFUL DESIRES [A Collection of Short sweet stories]: Capítulo 211 - Capítulo 220

~JOYCE.The car had been coughing and sputtering for the last two hours, and every time the engine hiccupped, my stomach tightened a little more.“Thiago, I swear, if this thing dies on us in the middle of nowhere, I’m walking,” my mum said from the passenger seat, already reaching for the bottle of water in the cup holder.“It’s not going to die, Billy,” my stepdad answered, voice calm even though his hands were tight on the steering wheel. “We’re almost at the next town. Just a little further.”I sat in the back, phone screen glowing against my face, trying to ignore the way the seat vibrated every time the engine struggled.“We’ve been saying ‘just a little further’ for forty minutes,” I muttered. “At this rate, the sun will be down before we even see the signboard.”Mum twisted around to look at me. “Joyce, don’t start. We’re all tired.”“I’m not starting. I’m stating facts. The car has been acting up since we left the highway. If it had just behaved, we would have passed through

I shoved his hands away with both of mine and scrambled off the bed so fast the sheet tangled around my legs. My heart was slamming against my ribs as I stumbled toward the wall switch and slapped it on. The light flooded the small room, I guess it wasn't midnight yet, because the woman clearly said there will be a light out then.My tube top was still bunched under my breasts. I yanked it up with shaking fingers, covering myself, then crossed my arms tightly over my chest. I unplugged my phone from the socket with one hand and climbed back onto the bed, sitting upright against the headboard, knees drawn up, breathing hard.Mum had not even stirred. She lay on her side facing the wall, mouth slightly open, completely unaware of the stunt her husband was pulling.Thiago was still kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He did not look startled, nor did he look guilty. He simply watched me, with a calm expression as if we had just been interrupted during a normal conversation.I stared b

********“Ahh... Thiago… fuck...”The moan tore out of me the second his fingers left the head of his cock and found my clit instead. He rubbed in rapid circles, no teasing left in the motion, and the sudden intensity made my thighs shake. I tried to stay quiet, but the sound kept spilling out of me.“That’s it,” he muttered, watching my face. “Let it go.”The pressure built too fast. My free hand clutched his shoulder while the other still stroked his cock out of pure instinct. The circling on my clit never slowed. A sharp, almost painful wave of pleasure crashed through me, and I squirted hard, the sudden gush splashing against his fingers and stomach while a raw cry left my throat.“Oh my God... Thiago...”He shifted his stance, lined the thick head of his cock against my entrance, and pushed in slowly. One of his hands stayed on my ass, guiding me, while the other kept me steady. The stretch was wild—every inch forcing a new, shaky sound out of me as he sank deeper until his hi

~ARIANNA. “Miss Arianna?” I looked up and my brain short-circuited for a second. This man was taller than I’d expected, with dark hair that looked like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times and sleeves casually pushed up his forearms. And his voice? Deep, masculine, and dangerously sexy. No, steady. I meant steady. The kind of voice that slipped beneath my skin and settled somewhere it had absolutely no business being. I pressed my thighs together, silently cursing my body for reacting so shamelessly to a man who was supposed to be nothing more than my therapist. “Yes. Hi. Liam?” “Come on in.” I followed him into the office and sat. He sat across from me. “You wrote that the sex in your relationship isn’t satisfying you anymore,” he said, “and that things feel shaky because of it. Where do you want to start?” I let out a breath. “I don’t know whose fault it is. We still have sex. It’s just… not enough. It used to feel good. Now it feels like we’re going through

I woke up to the smell of food.Tristan was already dressed, hair still damp from a shower. He gave me that soft smile he used when he thought he was being thoughtful.“Hangover soup,” he said. “You came in late. Figured you might need it.”I sat up slowly. My head wasn’t pounding as badly as I expected, but my mouth tasted like the wine and whatever Nina and I had taken. The soup was in the blue bowl I liked. He’d even cut the spring onions the way I always did.“Thanks,” I said, and it came out quieter than I meant.He sat on the edge of the bed while I ate, watching me like he was waiting to see if I’d say something about last night.I looked at him over the spoon and felt this sudden, sharp pity land in my chest.How was I supposed to tell him any of that?“You okay?” he asked. “You’ve got that look.”“What look?”“The one where you’re already somewhere else.”I forced a small smile and kept eating. “Just tired. Long night.”“Nina again?”“Yeah. We went out.”He nodded like he exp