Crave Book Review Novels & Stories

I want to take a moment to appreciate my beautiful readers for getting this far. This book is gonna be hot, mind-blowing, dark, intense and fiery. Buckle up.. the story's just beginning. 🔥🔥💞 leave your reviews, and sweet gems... and prepare for this sweet ride.

Lust ties us between lies we can't unfold, dragging us deeper into uncontrollable webs. Something irresistible, that makes us question why pleasure might just be an illusion. If pleasure was an illusion, why was this so strong that she felt it badly?

"I'm gonna wreck you." I grinned, shameless and breathless. "Promises, promises." And then he was on me again, climbing over me, his mouth everywhere my chest, my throat, the slope of my hip, worshipping and ravenous all at once. His hands roamed, dragging nails, squeezing, grabbing like he was afraid I'd vanish if he didn't hold me hard enough. I arched up to meet every touch, shameless and soaking wet, lost in the way he said my name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

When I reached her hips, I hooked my fingers in her underwear and pulled it off slowly, revealing her completely. She was glistening, already so ready for me. But I wanted to taste her first, wanted to make her fall apart before I took her. I settled between her legs and looked up at her. Her eyes were hazy with alcohol and need, her lips parted, her chest heaving with anticipation. “Watch me,” I commanded, and lowered my mouth to her. The first taste of her made my wolf howl. She was sweet and tangy and absolutely perfect. I explored her with my tongue, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan, what made her hips buck against my face.

“My body jerks like it's attempting to save itself, but I continue pushing and that triggers something and my brain goes foggy. My throat swallows, and it goes further. That is the point at which the astonishing frenzy thing occurs when I can't relax. My body heaves to save itself, yet I push it more profound and my throat gets generally delicious, similar to as having a climax. Then there's no restriction, I can take every last bit of it, and it gets me so energized I nearly get off. You ought to attempt it.” He gazed at her in dismay. “No,” he said, “I shouldn't. Is there something wrong with you?” “I have to strongly disagree if something is wrong,” she said. “For what reason do you need

TRIGGER WARNING!! This book contains explicit, non-consensual sexual content, revenge rape, intense humiliation, degradation, forced orgasm, bully-victim power reversal, and other extreme dark themes. It is written for readers who actively seek out this type of taboo erotica. If any of those things will upset or harm you, please close the book now. No part of this story should ever be replicated in real life.

Then a short flat laugh broke from my mouth, my head tilting back like he just said the funniest shit. “Of course not. I’m heading to the club.” His fingers flexed once, then he let go and I walked out, cane tapping against the floor. He knew. I knew they all fucking knew but it didn’t matter. Not when the itch was back. Not when I craved her more than they did. The drive through the city was a blur of lights and rain-slicked streets. I gripped the wheel, knuckles white, mind already on her. I parked the SUV away from her street then walked to the shitty apartment building in the rundown part of town, where the streets smelled like garbage and piss. It wasn’t fit for her, but she held on to

I screamed, body rigid and slick with sweat, but he craved more. He withdrew, lips trailing kisses up my torso, ripping off my bra to free my stiff nipples. He latched onto one, sucking greedily, pulling fresh moans from me. One hand kneaded my breast; the other gripped his cock, stroking its throbbing length, tracing veins as pre-cum beaded. But he stopped me, seizing my wrist with a growl: 'Not yet, Cherry.' His voice was rough—he wasn't done.

“I’m admitting it.” The words landed in her chest like heat. She set the glass down because her hands had started to shake. The marks on her arms looked like a language she was only now learning to read. Part of her wanted to stand up, put on a dress, go back to the version of herself that could still pretend this was a dangerous affair she would outgrow. The larger part of her stayed on the mattress, thighs loose, body still open from the afternoon, and did not move. “So we name it,” she said quietly. “The craving. Not the game. The thing that doesn’t shut off when the scene ends.”

“Don’t—” “I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do,” he cut in, voice rough but steady. “But I see it in your face, Tyler. In your body.” His gaze dragged down me, slow, searing. “You’re craving me, even now. You’ve been ruined for anyone else. And you hate me for it.” My fists clenched. I hated how my throat closed, how heat coiled in my gut. I hated that he was right. “I don’t—”