Craving Manwha Novels & Stories

He licked with his hot tongue the chocolate he had put there until there was nothing left. She watched what the young man was doing, which gave her proof of how much he wanted her and her body. How intense his cravings were for her, which she knew was the same as how she felt for him,. "It's heaven, and it's wonderful," she said between her slow breathing when she saw Jason repeatedly rubbing the tip of her breast with his scorching tongue. Then suddenly, the young man stopped what he was doing and quickly claimed her lips. That kiss was so passionate, and Jenny felt like she would be out of breath if the man didn't let go of her mouth, so she just did it.

I wanted more, sucking and swirling on the digits, drinking in her juices until nothing was left. “I want more.” I breathed heavily, buzzing with elation while the craving turned into an abyss. “Let me have a taste of that gorgeous pussy.” A taste isn’t enough; I wanted a feast.

But the shine wore off fast—ripped away the day I came home and found her riding Finn on my bed. Whatever I’d felt before that moment died clean. So no, I don’t understand the appeal. I don’t understand the idea of chasing someone who’s made it very clear they don’t want you the same way you want them. I crave something else entirely. I want someone who comes unhinged at the thought of me. Someone who spirals when I touch them. Who trembles under my stare. I want madness. Possession. I want devotion. And lately, when I think of those things, it’s her face I see.

I’m not strong enough to do that. I pull my hands back, and that’s when I see them: my nails, longer, sharper, glinting like claws under the kitchen light. A scream tears out of me, raw and desperate, and the hum surges, a wave that makes my knees buckle. I hit the floor, my vision swimming, and all I can think is Tyler’s voice: You’re not what you think you are. What am I? What am I?

“…Please tell me you’re not about to drink pickle juice with chocolate milk.” I turned slowly, guilty as a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It’s called cravings. Don’t judge me.” He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His T-shirt clung to him in all the unfair ways, and his hair stuck up like he’d been in a bar fight with his pillow. He scratched the side of his beard, blinking blearily. “That’s not cravings, Amelia. That’s a cry for help.” I rolled my eyes, twisting the pickle jar open with a satisfying pop. “Go back to bed, caveman. You’re useless to me right now.”

Why was I suddenly craving him? "Craving him?" I laughed hard at my thoughts. I was craving someone I had just met hours earlier? This must be madness. I continued preparing the Takoyaki to get my mind off him. It worked for a while but after, I couldn't resist it. The Takoyaki was finally done, and my mouth watered. The cravings I had initially came crawling back. The cravings that woke me up from bed, the cravings that made me skip work and go to the store to get the ingredients. The cravings that made me meet Zac.

That thought made Aura startle for a few seconds. 'Is this what they call a craving?' Aura wondered unconsciously while rubbing her stomach, still flat, showing no signs of pregnancy except for the frequent morning nausea in recent times. "Alright. I'll buy it now. Contact me if you want something else." "Hmm, thank you." Axel had no difficulty finding Aura's order because dak-juk is a common breakfast in Korea, just like in Indonesia.

He was really going to pretend yesterday didn't exist and go straight back to teaching me how to seduce his brother. And I was going to let him. Because what else could I do? Storm out? Scream at him? Demand he admit he felt something? Yeah, no. I had humiliated myself enough for one week, thanks. "Anticipation," I repeated numbly. "Desire isn't about the act," he said, pacing like a professor giving a lecture. "It's about the waiting. The wanting. Once you have something, the mystery is gone. To control Arthur, you have to make him wait until he's ready to crawl for it."

"That kiss makes a lot for me. No, it actually means to world to me. You see, I've never been this coward my whole life. The first time I saw you, I have already had the urge to taste your lips. Because who wouldn't lust after that red lips of yours, right? Before then, I have been wondering how would it feel like to actually kiss you. How would it taste like when I got to touch your lips using mine. I have been craving for the lips of yours for quite a time now, and now that I have already had a taste of it, how could I ever regret it? It is what I have been craving for." I felt his finger on my lips while he stared at it. "The moment I tasted this, I lost my mind..." he whispered. I stared

“I’ll make you feel good, I’ll make you want me even more. Every day, then every hour…I’ll make sure just a touch gets you excited and wet…I’ll make sure you know that you belong to me, every part of you; including here.” One of his fingers probed into her and her walls caved around it immediately; tight and warm…a place his c*ck wanted to be. She whimpered, the sound tugging at his string of control, clawing away at his resilience. Was this craving he felt humanely possible? Could somebody really want another this much? He'd never been one to really care about a woman’s pleasure, but he cared about hers. The sinful things running through his head were definitely coming from the devil.