Craving Novel Novels & Stories

I needed to taste her, even if it had consequences like a forbidden fruit. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, beckoning me to meet them. I thought I was going to drown. I needed to hear her whimper, moan, or something. I grazed her lips with mine, forgetting why I was doing all of that to her in the first place. It was to tease her and not the other way around. But that had changed; it was now about me, her, and my craving.

Hey, Sweethearts! While wait for Lucy and Ralph's chapter that I'll be releasing this evening, which will be the last bonus chapter that'll close SIN entirely; I just want to let you know that Arabella's story is out!! I know some of you wanted to see her development, and now you have it. Her book is out, and it's titled CRAVE. You can go under my author's icon to see it or simply search for it. CRAVE is a new journey, so it'll be needing all of your support. There are only three chapters available now, so do add to your library, spare some votes for the new one and do leave a review on your thoughts of her story. They'll all be well appreciated.

She had poisoned herself and it was not only the alcohol's fault, but also the constant stress and exhaustion that had been accumulating for a long time. As she passed by the bookshelves, she decided to take some book to read. She was delighted with Matthew's collection. There were all the books written by Clive Cussler, one of her favourite writers, as well as a lot of books by Michael Crichton and Duncan Falconer. What surprised her more was to see all of John Grishams' novels.

his kisses full of a strange kind of hunger that's making me lose control. Why am I feeling this now? Does it means I have been secretly craving for this moment? His hands grabs my boobs and squeezes them softly...his fingers fondling with my nipples. My body is suddenly itching me to feel his touch...I'm having a kind of craving I thought I wouldn't have for anyone with his touch. He stops kissing me and stands up...I frown because I suddenly miss him...his touch. My boobs and body are all craving for his touch...I want him to touch me now!

“She’s dragging it out of me. Every time I smell her, it’s like setting a match to everything I’ve buried.” “You love her.” I stopped. The word felt like a bullet lodged between my ribs. I turned back slowly. “Don’t say that.” “It’s true, though, isn’t it?” “No.” I walked up to him, jaw tight. “You’re wrong. I don’t love her. I crave her. There’s a difference.” “Craving doesn’t make you hesitate in the middle of a feeding. Craving doesn’t make you run after her to stop her from escaping and then carry her unconscious body home. Craving doesn’t make you rage at yourself after.”

~YVONNE' S POV~ The hospital bed was too white, too clean. Like they had scrubbed away every trace of what had happened, leaving me in this hygienic room that smelled like disinfectant and loss. I sat cross-legged on the bed, biting my nails down to nothing, scrolling through my phone with shaking hands. I don't know why I opened I*******m. Self-destruction, maybe, or the need to make it real. 'BREAKING: Klein Heir Proposes to Sinclair Heiress in Lavish Gala'

Kyra is his obsession, his punishment, and his prey. Steven Blackwood doesn’t love he dominates, he torments, he claims. Resistance brings pain; surrender brings chaos. Trapped in his mansion, surrounded by fear, jealousy, and the shadowed eyes of those who serve him, she must navigate a world where innocence is weakness and temptation is unavoidable. Every moment in his grasp threatens to break her, and survival is not escape, it is submission to a man who bends desire and fear into a power only he understands. In the hands of a devil who refuses to be denied, she may lose everything…even herself.

Waking up frustrated over being needy for a man, who seemed to purposely dangle what I want in my face without giving it to me already set a nasty tone for my day. Then coming up to see that not a single read or view on the book I published sent me spiraling. I thought it was a masterpiece. I read that book so many times and every time I did, I edited it till it was near perfection. The external validation I got made it seem like I would become a top author the very second my book was up, and now…

I whimpered, trying to type the next sentence. He chuckled darkly and thrust up slowly, grinding deep. “That’s the point. Read what you have so far. Out loud.” I moaned softly as he rocked me on his cock. “The… symbolism in the novel represents… ahh… the struggle between desire and morality…” “Wrong,” he interrupted, thrusting harder. “Symbolism doesn’t ‘represent the struggle.’ Be more precise. Fix it.” I gasped, trying to correct the sentence while his thick cock stretched me open. “The symbolism… illustrates the internal conflict between…”

But my instincts slowly took ahold of me as I smelt his blood fill the air. I licked my lips with anticipation, the savory smells invading my brain and any rational thoughts I had, left. As if I was being controlled, I felt myself rise from the chair I was sitting in and slowly walked around the table like a predator stalking it's pray. Drake sat still, his forearm resting on the table. My eyes trained on the blood that slowly seeped out of the wound, rivulets spilling on to the table as it dripped. For some bizarre reason I just wanted to taste it. It was a constant repeating thought in my head. Just lick it Aria, taste him. He offered it to you, so why not take advantage of this moment. I