Novel & Cerita Dark Love Stories

“Daddy, please fuck me.” He pushed me back onto the bed, towering over me like a god of sin. Lust swirled in his dark and dangerous eyes. Yes, this look—this was how I had imagined Dave in my darkest dreams. He wanted to devour me just as much as I wanted to be ruined by him.

She smiled brightly before kissing him beneath the moonlight. And this time— There was no hiding. No shame. No fear of society. Only love. The kind that survives cruelty. The kind that heals loneliness. The kind that finally gives two broken people a place to belong. Together. Forever.

My love, he called me his love, in her drowsy state, she realized that he was still hard, he didn’t release. “you’re, you’re still hard”, she whispered. “tomorrow, love, when you have the strength”. She nodded, she barely has the strength for that anyway, but she felt bad that she had an orgasm and he didn’t. “perhaps, I should” …. Lucien groaned, “go to sleep, Princess or I will tie you to the bed and start all over again”, he warned. Dianne closed her eyes tightly, no not a chance. “I’m sleeping; I’m sleeping”. She said.

Hello Forbidden Love Stories Readers and Fans. I like to know what kind of story or tales would you like in this book next. I was thinking to go back to our starting days of the FLS sensual short stories of 1-3 chapters. If you agree, Like this chapter and leave comments and your opinions. I have many amazing full of lust and love short stories ready to go live for you guys. These are all my personal favorite premium short stories which I have been saving for days and it is time this gold comes to light to meet the readers.

That’s why his darkness lured me in, because my darkness wanted to be freed. There was no denying anymore that I love him, I love him beyond anything you can possibly imagine. I wish I could run back, and tell him that but it would be of no use. As he said, he could never love me. And now, he hated me. How funny that my darkness is what makes him hate me, while it’s his darkness that makes me love him. Yes, how funny. To be Continued......

ANASTASIA'S POV Hi, my name is Anastasia Black, let me tell you a little about myself. My parents died during a war between them and another mafia but, I don't remember anything since I was very young when it happened. 34 I grew up on the streets without any food or shelter. Until one day this 16-year-old boy came and started teaching me street fighting. After a while we got pretty close, I had soon fallen in love with him. He taught me how to fight, so I could protect myself, we both got matching tattoos as a sign of our friendship but, suddenly the next day he disappeared. 23

I decided they deserved to know the full truth. Taking a deep breath, I told them about my dream love and how Marc could pass as his doppelganger. I shared how it didn’t feel wrong to have sex with Marc because I’d been having a relationship with a man who looked identical to him in my dreams for quite some time. When they asked if I continued with my “Marc” dreams even after I slept with Roger and I confessed I did, they gave a simultaneous low whistle and then went perfectly silent. What does one say after hearing such a crazy story?

he asked cautiously, not sure if he wanted to entertain Clara's accusations. Clara leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I've noticed how close they've become lately. They spend so much time together, having late-night conversations in the kitchen, and now this... betrayal," she whispered, her words carefully calculated to sow doubt in Lucas's mind. Lucas's eyes narrowed as he considered Clara's words. He couldn't deny that Dorian and Camilla had grown closer recently, but he had always believed it was due to their shared experiences and their friendship. He had never suspected anything more sinister.

Is that what is called LOVE? ***

I hate that it still feels like home, I try to hold onto the anger. I try to remember my sister. My brother. My mother. But my body betrays me, my resistance weakens and my movements slow. The fight in my wrists turns into trembling instead of pushing. His kiss softens slightly. Not possession now or dominance, but something rawer, something breaking. My breathing shifts. And despite everything — Despite the war, the lies, the blood, the threat — I melt. Just a little. Because I still love him. And that is the most dangerous thing of all.