Desire Novels & Stories

My chest tightened until it felt like my ribs might crack from the pressure. I dragged in a sharp inhale through my nose and pressed my fingers hard against my temples, nails digging into skin. Get her out of your head. But it was useless. Completely, devastatingly useless. Because it wasn't just desire anymore. Lust, I could handle. Lust was simple, primal, something that could be satisfied and forgotten. But this—this was something else entirely. Something far more dangerous than want, more terrifying than need.

This time he even explained what he meant. "What? Is he asking me if I want to get laid? Is he out of his mind?" I thought. I nodded to say no. But deep down I wanted to do it. A carnal desire which only few could resist. He ordered one of his men. "Untie him."

I moaned softly in pleasure and desire . Crap! I fucking have desires for him. His one hand pulling my hairs softly gave him more access to my neck and cleavage . His other hand went under my skirt up to my bare thigh. I gasped when his fingers touched the sensitive skin between my legs . His feather like touch made my clit craving more . He started drawing circles over the thin material of my slit . His mouth never left my neck . Sucking and licking . His finger went inside me . My walls tighten around his two fingers . He started slowly in and out . Making me moan loud.

Have you ever sunk deep into the depth of desire as your heart wished for you to drown while your mind told you to fight against the waves? When I look at Deimos I am always caught by desire's net. Desire to touch. A desire for a taste. Desire to possess. With each passing day, it overtakes me inch by inch sinking its fangs deep within me sucking my will to fight.

Being the other woman felt like whoring even though I wasn't sleeping with him; it felt wrong. We finished breakfast, and James and I went upstairs to get ready. The moment we stepped into the bedroom. He pulled me into his arms and embraced me. Hugging me tightly, he crashed his lips against mine and began to kiss me desperately. My body was betraying me, and I did not know what to do. He travelled to my neck and grazed his teeth against where a mark should be. Sucking the skin, I moaned and felt wetness pool between my legs. My body wanted him. My wolf craved him. I pressed my thigh together to control myself while I moaned. This was unfair. He was skilful, and I was untouched; how the fuc

Sanam's throat was getting dry on his advancing moves. "Do you know for last few days how much I was yearning for you and to spend time with you?" Saying in a husky voice his eyes were fixed on her shivering lips. He moved his face closer to her and stopped merely an inch from her. "For your intimacy..... To feel your touch." Both hearts were beating wildly and both can feel their heavy breathing blowing and feeling on the face of each other. "Asfand I....."

“Your neck did.” I reach up instinctively, brushing my fingers over the bond mark. The crescent shape is warmer than usual, faintly raised, as though the magic itself remembers too. Amber sips her tea. “It doesn’t mean anything, unless you let it.” “I didn’t mean to—” I pause, frowning. “It wasn’t planned.” She shrugs. “Desire isn’t weakness. It’s a part of being whole. Wolves without desire? They’re not strong. They’re starving.”

“She will.” I watched her pace now. She touched the edge of the window frame, as if testing it for weakness. Her fingers were delicate, but not soft. They were the hands of someone who fought, someone who lived through pain. I liked that about her. I liked that she didn’t cower and I liked that she still hated me. Desire was never about affection, it was about possession. Love fades, I’ve seen it fade in centuries past, burn bright and die out just as quickly, but obsession… that stays. When I want something, I keep it. That’s the only truth that matters.

I feel alive, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that resonates within me like a delicate song. Illuminated by the intensity of their gazes, I feel my body swell with desire. Each kiss, each caress transports me into a synchronized dance of pleasure and intimacy. I sense the hidden intentions behind their gestures, the tenderness mingled with urgency. My body becomes a battlefield between what I think I want and what I ardently desire. When I feel the warmth of their hands enveloping me, this desire transforms into necessity. I long for this connection, this communion of souls.

It was also a genuine question, asked in a genuine way, and Aren had spent enough time across this table from Lyric to know the difference. “Desire is want with weight,” Aren said slowly. “It’s not just moving toward something. It’s the feeling of being pulled. The awareness of distance between where you are and where you want to be, and the way that distance sits in your body.” “Sits in your body,” Lyric repeated. “In your chest. Your hands. The back of your throat. It’s physical even when it’s not about something physical.” Lyric was very still. “I feel something like that,” they said. “I wasn’t sure what to call it.”