Desire Eyes Novels & Stories

My eyes travelled all the way up her body from her toes to her face – fucking perfect. I think my lustful stares were to intense , as she suddenly looked my way. Her eyes latched on to my own. I licked my lips , sending her a message of exactly what I want. Her eyes stir with a hint of mischief and storms with lust and desire. Message received! She bats her eyes at me in acceptance – attempting to look innocent or attempting to look cute , however she horribly failed.

Dicken was watching me with his captivating eyes from up close, as if he would drown me within the bottomless ocean that was his gaze, even as I saw my own reflection in his eyes. My own gaze was ablaze with raging desire, for I was utterly obsessed and dependent on the man before me. My eyes utterly bared the trust, passion, and every sentiment I wanted to hide, but those feelings were at once violent and endless, and it felt as if they would burst out of my body and surged towards Dicken’s body, urgently wanting to melt into him.

If not, he wouldn't hesitate to delete all Philips without caring whether they belong to one or hundreds of Philips. With satisfaction after deleting the contact, he turned back around only to see Joyce so intimately close. She was practically hugging him, trying to retrieve her phone which he held up with a hand above his head. He was silent and studied her face which was creasing in a frown. His eyes strayed to those lips that parted and closed more often than usual as a result of the struggle. He felt the sudden but strong urge to taste those again. He became thirsty of a sudden and those luscious twins seemed to be the perfect water to quench his thirst.

He already owned me, my body, my soul, and my heart. He approached, his gaze intense, his eyes a deep, captivating blue. The setting sun cast long shadows, highlighting his sculpted features, a testament to his physical prowess. I felt his hand unclasping my bra, his touch a gentle yet forceful command. I bit my lip, my body reacting to his touch, my senses on high alert. His gaze lowered, his eyes fixed on my breasts, his jaws clenching with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Fuck!" he cursed, his voice a low growl.

I squeezed the base hard, staving it off, gasping against his lips. “Not yet,” I panted against his mouth, my head thrown back. “Not yet—Enzo, please—” He growled, gripping my ass, spreading me wide, fucking up into me so hard the world blurred, my vision going hot around the edges. My hands clawed at him—his hair, his shoulders—anything I could hold on to. “Look at me, Tate. I want to see you,” he growled and my breath stuttered as I looked down, our mouths hovering inches apart, breaths mingling, eyes locked so tight it felt like we’d been stitched together.

But he took hold of each of her hands and removed them from the covering of her chest. “My God, you’re beautiful!” he uttered as its eyes trailed over her body. “K-Kenneth, don’t…” she croaked as she tried to hold on to sanity. Seeing the raw desire on his face, Candy knew he was unstoppable. His head descended and his mouth found her nipple. He touched it with the tip of his tongue, withdrew, did it again. Candy trembled as the blissful ache of desire kindled low in her abdomen. Its burning lips engulfed his whole being. He suckled her, nibbled her, teased the sensitive nubs with his tongue.

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?”

A woman like that would never look at me more than once. Speaking of eyes, she had beautiful eyes. I admired those who had brown eyes a lot. It was my favorite tone; it reminded me of an autumn afternoon, with leaves falling to the ground. And the kind of brown in that woman's eyes was unique. A burnt tone, but slightly pulled to the gold. It was almost Jessy, almost yellowish, but it was still brown. It was still brown dry leaf color, and matched perfectly with the dark and outlined eyebrows.

Would his eyes burn with molten desire the way it burned for me whenever he looked at me? Tears burned my eyes, tears of jealousy, confusion and my constant companion, rage. I didn’t want him to go to some other woman who could give him what I refused to give. I didn’t want him to kiss other women. I wanted his kisses. I didn’t want the desire in his eyes for anyone else, but only for me. I could still feel his weight on top of me, the sensations of his finger and tongue inside me.

I love the way she’s begging for more with those eyes of hers. I trace my index finger over her wet folds, and Elena moans, the sound music to my ears. “So fucking wet, baby. You want me that badly, huh?”Elena looks up at me through her lashes, her desire on display for me. I slip a finger into her, another moan escaping her lips, her eyes falling closed. “No,” I tell her. “None of that. Look at me, Elena.” Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed. She’s fucking beautiful.