A Forbidden Taste Of You Romane & Geschichten

“I… I’m not sure.” “May I taste it again?” I swallowed hard. Adrian’s eyes deepened, a blue so intense it seemed to burn through me, a haze of heat simmering behind it. It rattled my already unsteady breath. “You… want to try again?”

“But I don’t miss who I was when it controlled me.” He nods, like that’s exactly the answer he expected. Outside, the city wakes slowly. Someone laughs. A door slams. Life, unfiltered. I take a sip of coffee and let the warmth settle. For a long time, I thought forbidden meant wrong. Now I know better. Forbidden meant unexplored. Unacknowledged. Powerful enough to change me. And it did. Not by breaking me. By teaching me that desire doesn’t need permission to exist, only honesty.

0016 ~Aria~ The music found me before anything else did. It seeped through the walls of the VIP section like something alive, slow and deliberate, all low bass and breathless melody. The kind of music that didn't ask permission, it simply demanded. Demanded movement, demanded proximity, demanded the kind of surrender that made sensible women do very unsensible things. I set my tequila glass down with careful precision. I'd had exactly one and a half glasses. Enough to loosen the edges of my restraint without blurring my intention. Because what I was about to do required absolute clarity. Required me to know exactly what I was doing, why I was doing it, and who I was doing it for.

- sorry to disappoint you but there is no special story behind that. Forbidden Pleasure aka the perfect place to get shady with your partner gave me unholy ideas the moment we stepped inside. I wanted to give Dalton a call so he could come here and we get a little frisky in public. The lights here are so dim, no one will ever know if I crawl under the table and give him head. Or have him finger fuck me under the table. My breathing labored as my imagination ran wild.

So far, I love the books he had chosen for me. “I have to go sir Theon. Enjoy your breakfast!” So, finally he left me alone. So, I grabbed the novel book I read entitled “The Bitch and The Player”. So far, it was one of my favourite novels because the story was really interesting where two villains fell in love each other. I was thrilled turning the pages, and each chapter was cliff-hanger. I read the part where the lead characters kissed. Then, I asked myself if how does it feel like kissing, especially kissing a girl you like.

I can do this "Two years ago, I had a terrible night. The worse experience but it was also the best night of my life. I'll tell you everything." -TWO YEARS AGO. Brandon's tongue drove into my mouth, I sat livid as he deepened the kiss. As I expected, he tasted only like alcohol. There's the good metallic taste you get, the kind that makes you want to take your clothes off in an instant then there's the bad kind, the one that makes you want to puke, you feel dirty and it's simply gross. That's this kind. Yup. The bad one. His hands slid down from bare back up to my waist, he pulled me closer.

He knew that he needed to replenish his strength, and the rogue's blood was the perfect source. The metallic and acidic taste of the rogue's blood hit Liam's tongue like a fiery bolt of lightning, sending shivers down his spine. It was a taste he was all too familiar with, the taste of death and desperation, of pure animal instinct. It was like an elixir, a potent potion that gave him life and strength, filling him with raw energy and power. He drank deeply, savoring every drop, feeling his wounds heal and his body renewing itself. The taste was intense, and overwhelming, but also strangely addictive, like a drug that he couldn't resist.

He pushed in deep, making her taste herself on his shaft, groaning when her tongue flicked against him. “Yeah,” he rasped, fist tight in her hair, guiding her head as she sucked him down. “Taste what you did to me.” She gagged when he drove deeper, tears stinging her eyes, spit slicking her chin. He held her there for a moment, cock buried in her throat, before dragging her back by the hair—strings of saliva glistening between her lips and his shaft. “Messy little thing,” he growled, shoving back in. “You love it, don’t you? Getting filled up, then choking on the taste of yourself.”

he purred, “cum for me.” I threw back my head as a cry erupted from my lips. My blood was tingling. My head was singing. This was so so good. My vision was hazy as I pinned my eyes on Desmond. "You've never fucked me like this, baby. I want to see you pump that cock for me.” Desmond swallowed hard, one hand drifting down to palm his aching erection through his pants. I smirked at the movement. “Yes, that's it.” He whipped his engorged cock from its restraints and I gagged at the beauty of it.

I swallow it like candy and wonder what his seed must taste like, all thick with Original Sin and licorice damnation. It is something I have refused to ever let pass my esophagus. Something I refuse to even see. Tasting him like that would be the point of no return, and make my damnation come round full circle. Better to lay down next to Death than to sleep eternally with him. His kiss is utter destruction, but his vittles are arcane, his innards forbidden fruit one must not touch nor taste. To see the Angel of Death exposed as God made him would mean oblivion. My Tam Lin and I may tease at deeper lusts, but we never set the kettle to boil. Instead, the dregs of wine blossom in the noonday I