Desire And Decorum Novels & Stories

It made him want to crash through it and just— Just what? Desire was one hell of an aphrodisiac when someone else was feeling it for you, he thought heavily. One unguarded look, the tempting thought of those anxious fingers touching his body, the sensual promise her lush parted mouth had offered him when he kissed her…All it would take was a loosening of his self-control and the conflagration would happen and they might both gain some relief. Shame he had to hold back. "Your manners," he responded finally. "It is usual to thank the guy that bought you dinner."

"I can't learn because I always want more and more of you every time. Now let's go before I end up undressing you." Her words ignited a fire of desire within me, but I knew I had to control my desire. With great effort, I pulled away, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "Let's... let's go," I replied, my voice strained with restraint as I tried to quell the rising desire.

He scanned the table like a king inspecting peasants and decided in under sixty seconds that most of us were idiots. “Mr. Beaumont,” he said, voice gravelly, “I don’t have patience for young guns chasing trends. I want stability. Real stability.” Before I could respond, Rosa leaned forward slightly, calm as ever. “Mr. Creston, I went through the projections you sent,” she said smoothly, sliding a folder across the polished table. “You’re not looking for flashy returns. You’re protecting what your father built. That kind of legacy deserves respect, not some PowerPoint full of buzzwords.”

Jimmy straightened up, turning his gaze back to Susan, his expression serious. "Don't I deserve an explanation for this?" he questioned, his eyes searching hers as she let out a deep sigh. Moments later, Jimmy and Susan moved from the dining table to the cozy upstairs parlor, leaving the rest to enjoy the festivities, including the little girl, as he awaited Susan's words.

We were in the big conference room, whiteboards covered in notes, laptops open, takeout containers scattered across the table. We’d been going back and forth for an hour about the closing line of the TV spot. “It’s too much,” I said for the third time, leaning back in my chair. “It’s going to come off desperate.” “It’s supposed to feel desperate,” he shot back, not looking up from his screen. “That’s the point. Desire isn’t polite.” “Desire also isn’t alienating half the audience.” He finally looked at me, eyes tired but sharp. “You think sex sells by being polite?”

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. “You disgust me,” she finally articulated, the words delivered with the clinical precision of a scalpel. “You built this entire structure—our influence, our name, our success—on the foundation of total control and absolute discretion. And you are throwing it all away for some juvenile, forbidden fantasy with a student? You are compromising our entire network for sentiment?”

“I know what it looks like when a woman’s needs aren’t being met. I know what it feels like to be wanted… really wanted. You deserve that. Not some empty goodnight kisses and polite promises that are never met.” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. “You deserve to be devoured.” My breath caught. “You should’ve seen your face earlier,” he continued, circling me like I was prey. “The way you looked at me. Like you wanted me to ruin you right there. You were dripping, weren’t you?” He moved in closer, his bare chest now inches from me. “Are you dripping now?” “Knox…” I whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.

But seeing her, so vulnerable yet alluring, had ignited a spark that wouldn't be easily extinguished. As he left the room, the heavy silence hung in the air. Deimon knew this wasn't over. The unspoken desire simmered between them, a potent undercurrent that threatened to erupt at any moment. But he also knew that true intimacy thrived on trust and understanding. He needed to let her heal, to create a safe space where their desires could blossom without the shadow of fear.

The selfish bastard inside me was fueled with the need to claim the girl that I’ve all these years silently and recklessly considered mine. The Devil is a title and reputation I’ve very much earned. When a Devil wants something, he takes it. And I’ve ignored my own wants and needs long enough. It’s time I give in to the urge to drive Kasey to the edge of madness and show her the darker sides to be found in pleasure. The ones carefully mixed with an appropriate measure of pain. “Take your clothes off. Let me see you.” Her nostrils flare, the spark of defiance igniting in her eyes urging her to fight me on this, but tonight, I won’t be relinquishing any of my control.

Shame burns hotter than desire and I know I should be ashamed and pray for forgiveness but desire keeps crawling back. I press my damp thighs together, willing myself to focus on the sermon, but my mind betrays me, replaying the thought of him without his cassock over and over. My fingers brush lightly against my legs beneath my skirt. A shiver runs through me, the shame making it all feel electric. I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking. "Flee from sexual immorality....so that ye may not perish"