Craving The Wrong Man Novels & Stories

I ask, because it’s suddenly obvious that she is. “Of course, I am!” She yells, her voice cracking with frustration. “I just wanted to have one good, normal time, but nothing ever goes well for me! It's so annoying! It's like I'm dying soon, aren't I? Why can't my last days just be fun and less trouble? Why can't I just choose to have one shot of vodka and not immediately vomit in a club pool? Why can't anything just be easy for once?”

He was a dangerous addiction, a poison I couldn't stop craving. A sudden, fierce need coursed through me, a raw, primal desire that I hadn't felt in weeks. My hands trembled as I undid my pants, my erection a solid, aching thing. I hadn’t been this hard in a long time. Not with the beautiful women I had slept with. Not even with Isabella, whose innocence and beauty had left me cold and unresponsive. Only Adrian. Only the thought of him, of his lips on mine, the feel of his body against mine, the taste of smoke and him on my tongue.

“Come back anytime you need to be properly fucked, little slut.” I stayed with James for another hour, cuddling and fucking once more, gentler this time. When I finally left, my legs were shaky, my pussy and ass sore, and my body marked with faint bruises and love bites I’d have to hide. That night Jaden called from Chicago. “How’s my beautiful wife?” I smiled, lying in our bed with James’s and Richard’s cum still inside me. “Missing you… but I’m good. Really good.” The affair had just reached a whole new level. One cock wasn’t enough anymore. Now I craved both father and son. The danger, the filth, the sheer wrongness of it all — it consumed me.

‘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.

The powerful older man stood with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, dark hair catching the light, sharp green eyes devouring every curve beneath my thin summer dress. Heat flooded between my thighs instantly. I was already wet, just from the way he stared. After my grandmother’s death left me drowning in medical bills, this job was supposed to be my salvation. But the second I saw Sebastian, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to ruin me. I wasn’t some shy, innocent girl, I was a wild thing who craved cock like air, always aching for the next dirty thrill. I gripped the handle of my old suitcase tighter, biting my lip as a fresh pulse of arousal throbbed through

The glow from the torches cast erotic shadows, my vision is hazy, and my mind is clouded with lust. I gyrate my hips seeking out friction to subdue the craving between my legs. I need to be filled; I need my thirst quenched. “Crimson,” I call out for my mate, craving his touch. Needing only his touch. For a brief second the haze clears from my mind, and it dawns on me what is happening. I am the feast. I am the claiming. It’s not what I want but I’m powerless to stop it. The wine, the music, my heat…

"I won't play matchmaker. I just really want you to find someone too. Someone you can be with, like the way I'm with Chris." "You don't have to do that. I'm fine like this," she lied through her teeth. **** Midnight cravings were crazy. They were like demons possessing their victims, making them lose all sense of logicality, till their thirst was fully satisfied, their hunger satiated. Only then, would they leave, watching their victims stare in awe at the empty wrappers of devouring destruction they had caused. Enemies of dieting. Those crazy spirits! Anyways, Ivy was possessed and she knew it, because why else would she be going through the kitchen, looking for chocolates at 2:07 am?

My face twisted in frustration. I wanted se.x. Desperately. No point in sugarcoating it. I’d neglected my needs for so long that they had boiled over into full-blown, maddening frustration. It wasn’t just se.x I craved—I wanted everything. The soft, sweet moments. The lazy mornings wrapped in someone's arms. The feeling of falling asleep after being thoroughly wrecked by passion. And just beyond this door was a man who could give me all of that. But that man was sleeping—soundly, ignorantly, infuriatingly sleeping.

she asked him confusingly. "Because I want you to call for me, to look for me, to crave for me." he said huskily like seducing her just by his voice. "B-but isn't it wrong to crave for a-another man besides your own h-husband." she asked him nervously liking her lips. "There is nothing wrong, Sugar. Sometimes you should be selfish for yourself. You should follow what you want not your marriage. There's nothing wrong in following your own desires." he said manipulating her.

Rara fidgeted with her hands, her head hazy as blood rushed through her veins violently. She yearned to immerse herself in his very being, to get lost in his moments of vulnerability. Yearning for a taste of abandon, she wished to be consumed by the intoxication of his scented exhales. Her whole being trembled at the mere thought. Never before had she desired something with such fervor, this man being her ultimate craving. It felt morally wrong, yet she longed to embrace her inner rebel. All for him.