Alle Kapitel von CRAVINGS;15 forbidden Desires : Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 30

Morning light filtered through the thin curtains of their shared flat, catching the dust motes floating above the cluttered desk. Isla stood by the kitchen counter, already dressed and ready. She wore a soft grey oversized jumper that swallowed her frame, dark jeans that were practical rather than flattering, and her round wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. A thick literature textbook was tucked under one arm, a notebook and two pens clutched in the other. Her light brown hair was pulled into a neat, low ponytail. She looked exactly like what she was — the quiet girl who sat in the front row and actually took notes.The bathroom door opened.Freya stepped out completely naked, a damp towel draped over her head as she roughly dried her dark curls. Water still clung to her collarbones and the soft curve of her breasts. She moved through the flat with the same casual confidence she always did, hips swaying, completely unbothered by the morning air on her bare skin.Isla’s eyes flic

Isla pushed through the crowd with her heart still racing and the ghost of Jake’s hands still on her skin. The bathroom door swung shut behind her. Music throbbed through the walls. Someone laughed too loudly near the stairs. None of it reached her properly. All she could feel was the hollow ache between her legs and the sharp, confusing jealousy that had been building all night.Freya was waiting near the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on her the second she appeared. The second their gazes met, Freya’s expression shifted something dark and possessive flickering across her face.“Come with me,” Freya said.She didn’t wait for an answer. She simply took Isla’s wrist and pulled her through the packed hallway, past grinding couples and spilled drinks, until they reached a quieter upstairs bathroom. Freya locked the door, then turned.For a moment neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the muffled bass from downstairs and Isla’s uneven breathing.“You let him fuck you,” F

  The next morning came too quickly. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, catching on Freya’s dark curls spread across the pillow and Isla’s arm draped possessively over her waist. They were still tangled together, naked beneath the sheet, breathing slow and synced.  A loud banging on the front door shattered the peace. Freya’s eyes flew open. “Shit.” She scrambled out of bed, grabbing the first thing she saw — one of Callum’s oversized hoodies that still smelled like him — and pulled it over her head as she rushed to the door. Isla sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, heart already racing. The banging continued. Freya opened the door just enough to block the view inside. Callum stood there, jaw tight, two of his friends lingering awkwardly behind him on the landing.

   The morning after felt different the second they stepped onto campus.    Isla walked close to Freya, closer than she ever used to, their shoulders brushing with every step. She still wore her usual jeans and oversized jumper, glasses back on her face, but something in the way she carried herself had shifted. Freya walked with her usual confidence, dark curls loose, but every few seconds her hand would find Isla’s a brief squeeze, a brush of fingers as if reminding them both that last night had been real.    They hadn’t gone far when the comments started.    A group of boys from Callum’s circle leaned against the low wall near the library steps. One of them, loud enough to be heard, said, “Shame, isn’t it? Ass like that wasted on a dry

  The box sat on the coffee table between them like an open question. Isla stared at it for a long time after Freya set it down. The slim curved toy, the small bottle of lube, the soft blindfold. Her pulse had already started its slow, heavy climb the kind that settled low in her belly and made every small shift of her body feel deliberate. She could still feel the ghost of Freya’s arm around her from earlier, the public defence in the courtyard, the quiet way Freya had held her on the sofa. All of it had left her warm and restless in a way that refused to settle. Freya didn’t push. She simply waited, one hand resting lightly on Isla’s thigh, thumb stroking in slow, absent circles that only made the ache sharper. “I want to try,” Isla said finally, voice quieter than she meant it to be. Freya’s eyes darkened, but her smile stayed soft. &ld