Craving Manwha Novels & Stories

"I will crawl inside your mind, your body, your soul, until you crave nothing else but my touch. I'II ruin you kitten, no other man would want you after I'm done." I swallowed hard. For some weird reasons I couldn't breathe anymore. What did he mean by he'll ruin me? And what was that electricity dancing round every inch of my body? Good lord. Don't tell me it was desire. It had to be hatred. Yes it was hatred, pure undiluted hatred.

‘When my husband lays on top of me, and his dick sinks in, I thank the lord that humans can’t read my mind because all I see and all I crave is his brother. That was the part where I should have shut the laptop, instead, I slowly sank to the floor and read even more. ‘My husband fucked like he was afraid to break me, but that was what I wanted, to be broken. To be used, choked, slapped and tossed around like a little slut, and every time I picture my fantasy coming true, hazel eyes look down at me. Arms strong enough to knock the life out of me squeezed my neck just enough for me to see stars.

I couldn’t leave my room that day. Not after the close call. I stayed curled under the covers, body still throbbing from Mason’s tongue, mind replaying every filthy word and the dangerous hunger in his eyes. The ache between my legs refused to fade. I wanted him. Needed him. The forbidden pull had become unbearable. By morning, the craving consumed me completely. I slipped downstairs in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts that barely covered my ass, the fabric riding up with every step. The house was quiet. I poured myself a hot cup of coffee, the steam rising like my own restless heat.

"Best I've ever had." And then the heat followed, the exhilaration. The memory of his hand in my hair and the way he'd groaned my name, the way he'd looked at me like I was the only person in the world. I touched my lips, still tasting him. My body responded before my mind could stop it. I reached down, palming myself through my boxers, and letting the fantasy take over. Grant pushing me against the wall, his hands on my hips and taking what I'd been offering for years. I came with a shudder, biting my fist to keep quiet, and then lay there in the aftermath, breathing hard, hating myself for how good it felt.

AMARA'S P.O.V The mirror doesn’t lie. It just reflects a truth I wish I could escape. I stare at the woman in white staring back at me... a stranger in lace and diamonds. My reflection looks beautiful, like something out of a glossy bridal magazine. Perfectly curled lashes, lips painted in deep red, hair pinned back into an elegant bun that exposes the vulnerable curve of my neck. A glittering tiara rests heavy on my head, weighing me down like a crown of chains.

He took my hand and began caressing it before putting my head on his shoulder and whispering into my ear, "Stay." That was my last straw, which I couldn’t ignore. It would be impossible if I pretended like I was clueless, not knowing he was trying to seduce me, which I find myself loving. I crave him. Michael has never made me feel this way without having to touch me. Seth clearly saw me that day and didn’t care for the world what I was doing, screaming his name in that manner. He knows I wanted him, and he is clearly tempting me. Seth's warm hands fondled the back of my neck repeatedly, while his lips grazed the side of my neck. “Should I go ahead?” His warm breath oozed from his mouth to m

I want to be forever trapped in the cage of this man's love who is now sitting in front of me and looking at me as if I am the most precious thing in the world. *****

Lucas, the swimming team captain and the school's biggest playboy, texted. As a response to his text, I roll my eyes and inquire, "Oh, really, when did you have time to think about me when you're busy as usual being a womanizer?" I knew very well last night that he didn't leave without a girl under his arm. Lucas changes girlfriends, just like the days in the calendar. No one has ever seen him with the same girl for two days. And there's a rumor going around school that he loves sex so much that he cannot go without it for a week. He's no different from a vampire who craves blood, but rather a man-whore who enjoys sleeping around with different females.

The washing machine shook under us. Her pussy clenched around my cock, sucking me in with every thrust. It felt different this time, riskier, knowing people were home. That made it hotter. My obsession with her was getting worse. I thought about her constantly, her smell, the way she challenged me, the sounds she made when she came. “Tell me how much you need this dick,” I growled against her neck, biting down as I slammed into her. She gasped, pushing back to meet me. “I need it. I fucking crave it now. Every time you look at me I get wet. This is so wrong but I don’t care anymore. Don’t stop, please.”

The word lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken promises, teasing and tantalizing. His lips searched for hers in hunger, in craving. They brushed against each other. The soft, fleeting touch teased a rising tempest of want. Her hum, a soft, melodious vibration, caressed his senses, stoking the embers of desire, making him yearn for more. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, the soft, enticing curves of her body made him crave for her more and more. "What are you wearing by the way?" Manik’s husky whisper danced across his lips, a teasing wind stirring embers.