Desire Untamed Novels & Stories

It could not be love, it was too early for that, but it was much more than horny. Even if my body reacted to her sighs, even if my cock throbbed in her pants before she even opened her mouth to do anything. It was something beyond carnal desire. Carefully, I removed Jessy's clothes, as if she were a doll. All the time, until she was naked, she just watched me with caution and a grimace, after that, when the cold air of the night entered through her half-open window and her nipples immediately bristled, she watched me with something like shame.

‘Not animals. Now, she’d had enough of academics—there was too much of that in her own head. What she wanted was the beast. She wanted untamed and unleashed. And Duke’s coarse oaths and guttural moans and the way his powerful body quivered at her touch not only met those needs with deadly-serious promise, they were ramping up her own excitement in a positive feedback loop of tornadic proportions.

His eyes reveal what he truly wants. And he wants me ... or maybe not? I don't know anymore. I don’t want to assume. Assumptions will only lead to disappointments. I can feel the intensity and electricity between us. A fire that will burn wildly if we only make the right moves. It was as if our bodies were whispering something at each other. Whisper to cave in to our desires. This is what I’m talking about. If something happens between us, I'm fucking done. If I'll be tempted, that's game over for me.

But none of them was Susanna Hawke. Her desire isn't something that can be tamed, prettied up or contained. It is raw, all-consuming, a forced that devoured everything in its path, leaving nothing but aggressive need in its wake. When Susanna wants, it isn't subtle. It couldn't be measured. It sucks in everything else inside it--my thoughts, my restraint, my will--until all that is left is this...gnawing, ravenous ache to claim her. She isn't simply passionate, she is engineered from the very word, created to bring the darkest, most hidden parts of a man to life. Shaped around mine, every man's desires, molding herself to our needs. And in her presence, those desires turn dangerous, violent.

Damien and I almost did everything. This is what Lilith was talking about. Everything is starting to make sense now that which almost angers me. The cracked-masked Reaper nodded. “Desire is the anchor that binds you both—your need for him, and his need to be worthy of you. But desire, unchecked, can consume or corrupt. You must confront it. Embrace it. And then…” “…let it go.” The words sank deep, chilling me from the inside. Let it go? After everything that has happened?

Well yeah… “Will it be so bad?” “Oh my god…” “You will have everything your heart desires…” “I am good thank you… Do not need to sleep with you and your brother to have what I want. I have everything I could ever want… You haven’t even thought it through Tristan. I am not an object… I don’t want to be owned… I don’t want to be brought… I have enough to make me happy.” And that there was the issue. He could not buy her…

My chest tightened, my breathing uneven as I stared at him, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside me. Desire is a strange, intoxicating thing—a concept I had never fully understood, let alone experienced in its truest form. Sure, there were days when my body craved warmth, moments when I’d clench my thighs together at the faintest spark of arousal. But I had never felt desire so fierce, so consuming, that it threatened to take control of me completely. Until now. For the first time, I wanted to give in—to let temptation sink its claws into me and pull me under, the way Eve gave in to the forbidden fruit. It was right in front of me, beautiful and dangerously captivating, drawi

Why should I let a semi naked lady—a stranger—sit on my lap, dance and get me hard? Yet here I am. Getting one. Loving it. Wanting more. “Let me touch you,” I beg. Desiree shakes her head. “No.” Fuck my life. She's going to ruin me. I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life, and I’ve lived for over four decades. Her wet hair is dripping all over me, yet it's not enough. I want more. I want other parts of her—other wettable parts to drip on me too. I’d do anything to be out of these cuffs, to touch her. Just one touch. I want to see if her skin is as soft as it looks.

She hadn't even touched it and her love buzzer was throbbing with need. She wiggled her ass, getting more comfortable, and then spread her legs. Another slow slide of her finger, up to her clit and then back down to her entrance. She shivered. Oh-em-gee, she wanted to be filled. Maybe she should call Anthony's and cancel their Valentine's dinner reservation. Screw the date. She just wanted fucked. She wiggled her finger until it slipped between her lips and then slid it back towards her clit, splitting her seam. She laid her whole hand over herself and bucked. Her shoulders and ass ground into the mattress while her tits tried to touch the ceiling. Her body trembled as she crested the wave b

It was a risk to delve deeper into its secrets, just as it was a risk to consider marrying someone whose true nature remained elusive to me. And then there was Mr. Blackwood, whose allure and dangerous charm tempted me to tread even further into uncertain waters. Each decision seemed to carry its weight of consequences, each path fraught with peril and intrigue. Yet, amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions and entangled relationships, I couldn't deny the exhilarating pull of the unknown, beckoning me to explore deeper into the mysteries that surrounded me. My phone's shrill ring pierced through the silence of the midnight hour, jolting me awake from deep thoughts. Startled, I fumbled to gra