Craving Manwha

Explicit Romance | BDSM Themes | Read With Headphones and Holy Water right beside you.🔞‼️⚠️ (This begins heavily from chapter 40.) ***** Rhydian’s middle finger plunged deep into my slick core. “Rimming you feels so good, little Wolf?” I writhed, my core clenching around his finger, craving more. “Your scent… one of a kind.” Astarian growled, slowly adding his finger. My head fell off the mattress’ edge, eyes locking onto the opposite mirror. My toes curled, leaving me trembling as ecstasy built inside me from the penetration of both fingers. “As… Asta—” My voice trembled. “Walls have ears in the palace.” Tavian groaned, easing his cock into my mouth with sweat smearing the skin. “You’re our little slut.” ~~~~~ Twenty years ago, the three Alpha kings slaughtered my Omega clan. But the Moon Goddess cursed their unborn sons by binding them to a single fated mate they were to claim before their twentieth birthday, or die. I am that mate. But— Rhydian Frost despises me on sight, even as the bond screams at him to get closer. Tavian Ashborne seduces me like it is a game, not realizing I am the one playing him. Astarian Grey offers devotion that could break my carefully guarded heart. I have powers they do not know Omegas possess—I can make them beg, take their forms, and bring alphas to their knees. My plan was perfect until the mate bond made it complicated—the three of them are my mates. The closer I get to revenge, the harder it becomes to remember why I need it. Because intimacy is a weapon that cuts both ways, and destroying their fathers might mean destroying myself and the young alphas. This is an Omega’s reckoning.

She moaned softly beneath him, her body arching, craving his touch, even as her mind screamed that this was wrong. “Please, stop. I don’t want this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. Aurora, eldest daughter of the Alpha of North Pack, was in the one place she should never be—entangled with her sworn enemy, Alpha Hunter, the ruthless Alpha of the Dark blood pack. She tried to rise, her instincts screaming for escape, but Hunter pinned her down with ease. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto hers as he growled, “Did I say you could leave?” His gaze was as dangerous as it was captivating, and his hands roamed over her body, igniting sensations she couldn’t control. Her body betrayed her, writhing under his touch. Hunter leaned closer, his lips hovering just a breath away. Aurora turned her head sharply, refusing him, her heart pounding in defiance. He caught her chin with a firm grip, forcing her to face him. “I’m warning you,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing. “Don’t you dare defy me.” His strong arms enveloped her as she struggled against him, her voice rising in desperation. “This is wrong! Stop it! We can’t do this. You’re my enemy—my pack’s enemy!” A dark chuckle escaped his lips, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered arrogantly, “Oh, my sweet little Aurora. Have you forgotten? You’re my mate.” His laughter echoed through the room, a mix of menace and triumph. Aurora’s breath hitched as his words sank in, each one more impossible than the last. What will happen when enemies turned into destined mates and rejection is not an option?

CASTELLO DI CARTE MAFIA CHRONICLES, BOOK 1 [Also known as PRECARIOUS: THE GAME OF HEARTS] 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 When my mother's declining health forced me to reconsider my career options, my boss steered me in an unexpected direction. The was simple: get in, get the information, and get the out. Except, it wasn't that easy. Especially when my target was the most nefarious man alive in New York. The closer I got to him, the more I saw sides of him I never expected. He burned me with his scorching touch, demanding and eager gazes. He was determined to have me at all costs. One might think he would stop at that, but—devil, help me—he needed more. More than I was ready to give. There was a reason I never wanted to the Underworld. When my past came crashing onto my doorstep, every lie unravelled, but nothing prepared me for the worst. The truth about the connection between the man I desired and my dead sister. 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒 We all know what they say about sweet things: when consumed excessively, they turn from savoury to bitter. That was what she was. A poor excuse for a sweet I wanted to devour. I wanted to make her suffer with the same intensity. She deserved it. And so did her scheming sister. Only, I didn’t know the latter was dead, and I might be the one at fault. But did that stop me from craving her? , no. My desire to have her magnified. She became mine the moment she walked into my life with those hauntingly blue eyes. She could give me the one thing I never had in life: happiness. But being the master at ruining everything, how could I ever be the man she wanted me to be?

I spent a year starving for a man who wouldn't touch me. Then his father and brother decided to feast. Rob called me a slut when I begged him to fuck me. Made me feel worthless for craving his hands on my body. Then he let another woman suck his cock right in front of me—and told me she did it better. I should have left. But I followed him to his family's private island in Italy instead. That's where I met them. Victor Marchetti. Rob's father. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and a body built for sin. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. When his hand touched the small of my back, I felt it between my thighs. Dante. The older brother. Dark, dangerous, and built like he could break me apart with his bare hands. One look from those black eyes and I was wet. One word from that deep voice and I was ready to drop to my knees. I tried to resist. Tried to remember I had a boyfriend sleeping down the hall. But they hunted me. Cornered me. Made me admit what my body had been screaming for. When they finally took me—both of them, at the same time, claiming every hole, every sound, every desperate whimper—I understood what I'd been missing. Victor's hand around my throat while Dante buried himself so deep I couldn't breathe. Two men who didn't just want me. They needed me. Owned me. Ruined me for anyone else. Rob made me beg for scraps. His father and brother made me scream their names.

I was the girl no one noticed. Until I opened File Case No. 0001. Azrael Atlas St. Claire. They call him “The Architect.” A ghost. A cold-blooded killer. A man so dangerous the FBI can’t touch. His death would shatter the economy. Rival syndicates would burn the city to kill him. He has no weakness. Then he found me. He appeared in my archive and vanished without a trace. The next morning, gifts started appearing on my nightstand. First, a bullet coated in dried blood. Second, ten fingers belonging to the man who touched me. He watched. Followed. Stalked my every move. Then one night, he came through my window. He took what he wanted while I floated in haze. I woke up sore, terrified…and craving for more—needing for more. The FBI saw a fracture in me, and decided to weaponize it. They wired me. Made me their spy with a promised I’d be safe if I helped them cage the monster. Yet, at the first sign of blood, they ran. Leaved me in chaos. He stayed. Now, I lived in his world. My mother thinks the lawyer at her table is a kind stranger. She didn’t feel his hand between my thighs underneath. She doesn’t know he’s been sculpting my life for years, long before we ever met. The FBI wants me to betray him. His enemies want me dead for revenge. But the monster who stole my life? He’s the only one who ever truly saw me. And I’m starting to wonder if that makes me just as dangerous as him. They say there’s a line between the victim and the villain. I don’t think I’m on the right side anymore.

She left cash on his pillow. He's been hunting her for eighteen years. Now they're neighbors—and she's carrying his baby. Evelyn Hart's revenge plan was simple: hire the hottest escort money could buy, have one night of mind-blowing sex, and finally forget her cheating ex-husband exists. What she got instead: Sebastian Creed. Six-foot-four of sinful perfection who made her body sing in ways she didn't know were possible. She left ten thousand dollars on the bed and ran before dawn, convinced she'd never see him again. Six weeks later, reality hits like a freight train. The "escort" is actually a billionaire. He owns the mansion next door. He's been obsessively searching for her since the night he saved her from a car crash when she was fourteen. Oh, and she's pregnant with twins the doctors said she could never have. Sebastian isn't just her neighbor—he's her stalker, her savior, and apparently, her fated mate. Because plot twist: he's a werewolf. And the supernatural bond between them is turning her inconvenient attraction into a soul-deep craving that's impossible to fight. Now he's breaking into her house at 3 a.m., showing up uninvited to her OB appointments, and making it very clear that the one night she paid for was just the beginning of forever. But their twisted love story is about to get deadlier. Sebastian's dying father wants him to claim a werewolf throne. His ex-husband wants her land for a billion-dollar deal. Werewolf royalty wants her dead for contaminating the bloodline. And Evelyn? She just wants to survive pregnancy, figure out how to be a queen in a world that thinks she's prey, and maybe—maybe—learn to trust the alpha who's been obsessed with her since she was a teenager.

"Betrayal is a sin, flower," He murmured near my ears, his arctic orbs whisking the warmth of my flesh against his. A course of harrowing singeing fire drifted down my body from the swell of my breasts to my heated core. My nerves screaming with torturous touch of his skin against mine, I couldn’t think for he had me confine in his arms. Brutally, he swept his tongue under the rim of my ear whilst my breath hitched and my tears become uncontrollable. The blood seeped through the cut I gifted him with as he inflated every bit of my scent I had to offer. His filthy tongue leapt across my lower lip with hellish slowness. The bond tempted me to submit to him. "I do not yearn to hear your cries, Katarina. Worship me with your moans." He commanded and I closed my eyes tightly not wishing to swim in those ocean pools of his. Their intimidating tone of his made me want to submit fully to him, to hand over the reins of my soul in his fists. Tears streamed down my face. "F-Forgive me, Xerxes." I stammer softly unable to face his wrath for I knew he was just playing with me, toying with my emotions before he punish me for deeds I've done. Xerxes cruelly grasped my wrists whilst locking them above my head so he could fully discern my naked flesh. "Forgive you?" He mocked, his eyes holding mine into a captivating grip as he licked his lips. "You let another male touch what belonged to me, tell me, flower, why must you test me like this.” I gulped unable to meet his gaze. He chuckled dryly. “Spread your legs, Katarina. The nectar I’m craving is between your legs.”

WARNING ‼️ This book delves into mature and explicit themes, including graphic sexual content, taboo relationships such as forbidden affairs and sibling rivalry-fueled obsession. The characters aren't all perfect and sunshine! Tread carefully if these elements unsettle you, reader discretion is strongly advised. (18+) **** I’ve craved Soren my entire fucking life. My sister knew it—knew he was my obsession, my filthy secret. But Cassidy’s always stolen everything from me. Dad’s favoritism and even the spotlight in college. And then she framed me for something heinous, painted me as an aggressive jealous junkie, and ruined me. As if that's not enough, she walked down the aisle with him. Now she wears his ring. She carries his children. She parades the perfect life right in front of me. And I’m supposed to smile. Pretend it doesn’t shred me apart every time I see him touch her. But one night… one reckless, drunk scorching night after being fired…We had a nightstand. He doesn’t remember—but I do. God, I do. And I can’t stop craving more. Cassidy thinks she’s clever, dragging me back into her perfect little life, humiliating me, then hiring me to nanny her kids. She thinks I’m weak. But sharing a roof with Soren is pure inferno, his gaze burns trails over my curves, hatred simmering beneath raw lust. We shatter every boundary: stolen gropes in shadowed corners, frantic fucks against walls, his cock slamming into me in forbidden spots where anyone could catch us…. I know it’s depraved to lust after a taken man. Sick to yearn for your sister’s husband. Utterly taboo. But I don’t give a damn. Because for once in my life, I want to take everything from her. Even if it destroys us all. .

“Oh daddy… I am going to c*m Daddy... I am going to c*m ” her eyes rolled backward as she felt her orgasm wrecking through her. “Yes, princess! You are going to c*m, but you are going to do that while staring into my eyes, so stare at me while you c*m so hotly on my fingers. Nuella’s eye rolled forward and she bit on her lower lips trying to keep her gaze on him, her nails digging into his arms and her body quivering uncontrollably. “Good girl… Now c*m for Daddy. Grace Daddy’s fingers with your beautiful c*m,” “Argghh… thank you, Daddy.Thank you.” Nuella’s back arched and her toes curled as she came hard on his finger, her body spamming uncontrollably as she tried to remain daddy’s good girl by keeping her eyes on his. “Good girl.. Daddy loves how you c*m.Keep c*mming.” he urged plumping his hands in and out of her pussy, her body quivering underneath him. Devine pulled his fingers out of her pussy, with her eyes holding onto his, he moved his finger to his lips and slowly began to glide on her juice. “So tasty..” He mummed hotly, s*cking hotly on it, while Nuella remained still, her p**sy craving more of his touch. Bad of her to crave the wrongest sin in the world, but he was the one who made her heart leap and her p**sy tingle at mare sight. Mr Devine El Lorenzo was her father's youngest friend and the renowned mafia viper, but her body yerned for his touch. Once, she got a taste of him, now she was back on his bed pleading for another, taking his command and being Daddy’s Good Girl.

Before the contract was even signed, the client's representative casually said he was craving pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't hesitate. I texted my fiancé, Nigel Cross, and asked him to stand in line and grab some. He came back with the box, all proud of himself. The client took one bite, and within seconds, his face went red. Hives bloomed across his neck. He shot to his feet, furious, and called the whole deal off on the spot. Then he turned around and handed the million-dollar order to Olivia Field, the intern who had rushed to grab him allergy meds. Three months of grinding work were gone just like that. I stood there, my throat tight, trying not to fall apart. Nigel squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft as he said, "It was just bad luck. Don't beat yourself up." I nodded weakly, drained of energy. But the second I stepped away, I heard him laughing in the break room with his friend. "That guy's seriously allergic to mango. Good thing I added mango syrup to the pancakes. Olivia's about to score a huge year-end bonus. Enough for a down payment on her new apartment." His friend hesitated. "Melissa hasn't slept in a month over that deal. She was working while she was sick. She needed that money for her mom's surgery—" Nigel waved him off, already annoyed. "She has me. Isn't that enough? Olivia earned this." My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Bad luck? Yeah, right. Nigel had planned every second of it. And now, he thought he could smooth it over by marrying me someday, toss me a few cheap words, and I would just swallow it. I was done with that disgusting man.