Desire And Decorum 3 Novels & Stories

The kind of proximity that made the air thicken, that pulled memories and desire to the surface whether either of them wanted it or not. “You don’t get to dictate relevance,” he said quietly. “You walked away.” “And you chose comfort over fire,” she replied. “Don’t rewrite that.” The room might as well not have existed. For one breathless second, it was just them, hate sharp as hunger, desire coiled tight beneath years of restraint. Anyone with eyes could see it. Anyone with sense could feel it. The chairwoman slammed her palm lightly against the table. “Enough!” Both of them turned.

She was every bit an elegant lady. Her lines were superb, pleasing, and aesthetic to the eye. Her upper and lower porches, though stretching all the way across her front, were quite dainty. Two wooden, upside down cathedral arches, bumped against each other in the middle, and run the full length of the bottom edge of the upper porch—looking much like the demure, graceful sweep of lowered lashes.

"Why are you doing this?" A slow smile spread across his lips, dark and knowing, and it made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to admit. He leaned in closer, so close that his breath brushed against my skin. "What do I want?" he repeated, as if tasting the words. "I want you to stop pretending, bella." "Pretending?" I spat back, anger and fear mingling in my chest like a storm ready to explode. "Pretending that I don’t despise you? That I don’t hate myself for—"

He jerks his head up, lips swollen, eyes wide and troubled. “I want you so badly,” he grits out, gaze drifting down my body, darkening with every inch it examines. “Then have me,” I insist, gripping his dark strands, tugging me a little. The morality of this is questionable. I’m a married woman who has another mate, and yet I only want him. And I want him now. He shakes his head, leaning up until he is on his knees. “Not here. Not like this.” The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing the strong planes of his chest. I want to run my hands down them, down every inch of him.

That girl's face fell, but then she spoke with a fake smile. "Ok. I'm just hoping that we can meet in the near future. " She flutters her eyebrows seductively. I don’t like girls who wish beyond their position. I wish I could slap her, but she has a pretty face. I didn't want to ruin her future chance to seduce another wealthy man. Besides, she is human and I... "Alpha, we have to leave. It’s already late. " "Ya, I know. Get the car ready. "

Chapter 75 Her baby father DESIRE’S MAKE UP STORE, PENNSYLVANIA Desire gasped in delight as her eyes wandered around the space. "Oh, my gracious God, Chloe. I love what you have done with this place so far and to think you aren't even done yet. I can't wait to see the finished space." She squealed like a child at a candy shop unable to contain her excitement.

he murmured, not standing from the bed but not looking away either, “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t stop pretending that this is nothing.” She did not look away. She did not move nor breathe. And in that moment—a burning, fragile moment—their desire stood naked between them, undeniable and dangerously close to breaking. Not touching. But wanting. God, wanting. And wanting, she realized, was far more powerful than she had ever expected.

More Intense. More intimate. More Sexual. As though the club itself understood who was worthy of ascending further into Master Steele’s world. According to Master Damian, the third floor had been designed personally by Steele over several years, every detail obsessively curated to embody luxury, power, seduction, and control without ever becoming vulgar. Unlike the main dungeon below, which pulsed with energy and spectacle, the upper floor carried something slower. More dangerous. Arousal wrapped in elegance.

“No, thank you. What could you offer anyway?” “The best of what you deserve,” My response was immediate, not hesitating, not showing unnecessary emotions. “For the décor, I would go with black and garbage-themed? It would perfectly encapsulate the essence of your relationship and your ugly character traits. Does that sound good?”

I was leaning on his desk, my chest pressing forward, heat pooling low in my core. “Yes…” I stammered, my eyes locked on his lips. The way they moved, made my body ache to close the distance, to grab his head and taste him, hard and messy. “Shit!” I moaned before I could stop it, squeezing my thighs together, trying to hold back the flood of need hitting me all at once. “So… for tomorrow, you’re in charge of the decorations. You can ask your team to help you,” he said again, pulling me closer even though he didn’t touch me. Every word hitting me like fire straight to my core.