Desire Gentleman Novels & Stories

He asked with a raised brow, his tone steady and commanding. “Do you perhaps have to be so direct with your request? Maybe if you acted more like a gentleman, a woman might just give in to your request,” I replied . He let out a small scoff, tilting his head as he said, “Except I am not a gentleman, and I am not good with persuasion. I simply offer what needs to be offered in order to get exactly what I need.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing before asking, “What would it take for you to give me exactly what I truly desire?”

“You keep calling me yours, but I’m not.” “You will be.” “Why?” I asked. “Why me? What is it about me that makes you so sure you can just… own me?” He took a step closer, his eyes soft but too focused. “Because when I saw you, I saw the fire in you and the wildness, and I knew right then, that I couldn’t let you go.” “That’s not love,” I said flatly. “I never said it was,” he replied. “Love is fickle. People fall in and out of it, but desire? Claiming something beautiful and keeping it, that’s real.”

I said, the script feeling dangerously real. “It’s not kindness,” he corrected, his voice dipping back into that rough, hungry register. “It’s desire. I look at you, Emma, and I think about how soft you must be. How sweet you must taste.” His head dipped, his breath hot against my ear. “I think about bending you over this beam and finding out for myself.” A gasp escaped me, sharp and real. The game was melting, the fire spreading. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” I whispered, the protest weak.

She grabbed the Chipotle bag from me eating away. "No eating on the job Ms. Yu." Snapped a man with a heavy British accent. I looked up seeing a handsome man who looked in his early twenties. He had dirty curly messy blonde hair sharp features and bright hazel eyes. "Andrei, I'm starving right now—" "I am Mr. Swansea to you, and I don't give a damn if you are hungry. The ice ball is in two days and I don't have time for this." He grabbed the Chipotle and throws it in the garbage can, then marched off.

The assistant, clad in a dark suit and sporting dark shades, placed a coffee order on his behalf as they settled in. As Caitlin approached to serve him, the handsome young man glanced up and found himself immediately struck by her natural beauty. Unable to tear his gaze away, he was entranced by her allure, his admiration quickly turning into a more carnal desire. Consumed by a lustful yearning to possess her as he had with other women, he instructed his assistant, Darian, to gather information about her.

He raised his brows while I stared back, wondering what he was talking about. "Think what?" I repeated. "About men being gentlemen means they have an ulterior motive," he responded, and I dropped the glass cup on the table. "It's common among men! They read women like a book, studying them long enough to realise they love being pampered and cared for, and only a gentleman can pull that through, and so they have to act like someone they are not just so they can get what they want," my voice filled with spite and disgust despite trying to hide it.

Desiree Dean had the same concerns as Adam, and I did. He excused us, and we went into the room. We found a handsome, brawny-looking young man about Adam's age waiting for us. The instant we entered, he stood up out of respect, and Adam nodded at him to sit. We sat on a chair opposite him. A table was between us. The man had been served juice, and he seemed to be savouring the refreshing taste. It was obvious he hadn't had good food in a while.

It was desire, in its purest, most demanding form. Jerry’s hand started to caress my body at the same time that I imagined it. It had been very long since anyone last touched me like that, and I couldn’t help but to yearn for the pleasantness that came with it. Jerry gave me that as his palms cupped my butt and fondled them.

Damian Desmond struggled to hold back his laughter and took his wife's hand, leading her inside. Edward looked after their retreating figures, still wearing a puzzled and incomprehensible expression. Seeing this, a gentleman beside him, who had been trying to suppress his laughter, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Young Master Edward, what Mrs. Desmond meant is for you not to have any wishful thinking about Mr. Desmond." Wishful thinking about Damian Desmond? What does that mean? Edward blinked his eyes. "It means not to compete with him for the affections of that lady," the gentleman shook his head. Wasn't Edward always proud of his intelligence? How could a simple statement like this r

He was being a gentleman, but there's a part of me that knows there's hardly anything gentlemanly about this man. If I'm being completely and totally honest, maybe that's what I want. A man who not only takes care of me, but sees me as an equal. too. As someone he can take to bed and treat me like I'm an object, but still respect me. Maybe that's what I want – a little adventure and a whole lot of fun. The question remains, is Trick the man to take me on the ride? ****