Todos os capítulos de Darkest Cravings (90 Types Of Lust): Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, Sarah,” I muttered against her ear, slowly rocking my hips against her ass from behind.She had pushed me away countless times before. The fact that she had let me stay this close for more than three minutes only made the heat in my blood burn hotter.“Uncle Ugle… please… give up…” Her voice came out as a shaky whisper, half moan, nothing like the sharp rebukes I was used to.“I know my nephew has been denying you for a while now,” I said, low and rough. “Why keep hesitating?”My hands slid over her hips. When she stayed silent, I turned her to face me.Her breathing quickened as she stared up at me. I leaned in, eyes locked on hers, until my mouth hovered just above her lips.I didn’t kiss her right away. I let the moment stretch, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine, the way her fingers had curled into the fabric of my shirt instead of pushing me back.“Tell me to stop,” I murmured, voice rough. “Say it clearly and I’ll

The rain was still hammering the windows in a steady, heavy sheet when I felt my cock start to thicken again inside her. Mirabel was still on her back beneath me, legs bent high, her virgin cunt stretched wide around me and already overflowing with the first load I’d pumped into her. Cum leaked out around my shaft in slow, sticky trails every time I shifted. I stayed buried deep and leaned down, shoving the wet dress higher until both of her soft, full breasts were completely bare. The cold air and the rough handling had made her nipples tight and dark. I closed my mouth over the left one without warning and sucked hard. Mirabel’s back arched off the couch with a sharp, broken cry. “Lucas…ah…” I sucked stronger, tongue flicking the stiff peak while I drew on it, then switched to the right breast and did the same, teeth grazing just enough to make her jolt. Her cunt fluttered hard around my cock at the dual sensation. I kept sucking, wet and greedy, leaving her nipples shiny and

I had answered a hundred summons in my long existence. Most were desperate men reeking of blood and ambition, or women who wanted power more than they wanted to live. Clara was different from the first second her blood hit the circle.She stood in the center of her penthouse like she owned the night itself in a dark silk robe, bare feet, a silver pistol still warm on the glass table behind her. She was twenty-eight, but looked younger. Head of the Rossi family since her father was gunned down two years ago. The city whispered her name with equal parts fear and reluctant respect. She had called me because three of her capos had already tried to sell her out to the Albanians, and she was done trusting anything with a human heartbeat.I appeared in a wash of sulfur and cold air, already half-dressed in the way my kind preferred; dark trousers, no shirt, the faint shimmer of power still clinging to my skin. Her eyes, sharp, dark and exhausted met mine without flinching.“You’re smaller

We already had the rule carved into the wall between us.Best friends who fucked. Nothing more. No sleepovers that turned into mornings. No soft words after. Just this raw, secret, and supposed to stay clean.Stecy was on her knees in the middle of my living room floor, naked except for the thin black collar she’d bought herself last month and never explained. The leather sat flush against her throat, a quiet dare. My cock was already in her mouth, thick and wet from the way she’d been working me for the last ten minutes, slow and filthy, like she was trying to memorize the exact weight of me on her tongue.I kept one hand in her hair, not pulling yet, just resting there so I could feel every bob of her head. She looked up at me through her lashes, blue eyes glassy, spit shining on her chin. The sound of her swallowing around me was obscenely wet. Every time the head of my cock nudged the back of her throat she made a soft, broken little noise that vibrated straight into my balls.“Fu

The soft glow of the desk lamp was the only light in my office that evening. Outside, the university grounds had fallen quiet under a light spring rain. I sat longer than necessary, staring at the unmarked essays, knowing the real reason I hadn’t left was the soft knock that came at half past seven.I knew it was her before I opened the door.Elara stood in the hallway, rain droplets still clinging to the ends of her dark hair, a thin cardigan pulled tight around her shoulders. She looked at me the way she always did in seminars, curious and a little breathless, as if she were about to say something important and then thought better of it.“Professor Hale,” she said softly. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I wanted to talk about the final paper. The one on Woolf. I think I’ve finally understood what you meant about the spaces between the sentences.”I should have told her to come back during office hours or kept the door open. Instead I stepped aside and let her in, closing the door with