Novel & Cerita Destructive Desire

If anything, it spurred him on. “Matteo—” she started to protest, worried about his injuries. “I need this,” he growled, his voice rough and desperate. “I need you.” His mouth claimed hers again, and any resistance she had crumbled under the weight of their shared longing. Clothing fell away, discarded without thought. His hands roamed her body, memorizing every curve like he feared he might forget her touch. Heat built between them, fast and consuming. Their bodies moved together, slow at first, then faster, as though they were trying to burn away the fear and uncertainty that clung to them. Every kiss, every touch, every desperate gasp was a promise—a vow that they were still alive, still

“Because Sable is not just your mother’s student.” She looked at Alexander. “She’s the one who betrayed her.” Alexander’s jaw clenched. “Betrayed how?” Cassandra took the photo back, her fingers tracing the scar on the woman’s face. “Sable was brilliant. Hungry. Power-driven. Your mother taught her everything—everything the purge could do and everything it should never do.” She paused. “But Sable wanted more. She wanted to push the purge beyond its limits. She believed it could be used to reshape the entire world.”

Too bad for them, I actually did spit fire. "Fine, but I think you should scrap Everhart from your mind. Find another target." Desiree's voice cut through my musings, jarring me back to the opulent ballroom. "What! I can't do that!" She stared at me, mouth agape, eyes wide. The look, strangely enough, reminded me of the hamster my father accidentally squeezed to death. And I use the term accidentally loosely. I jolted, shaking my head to dispel the unwelcome memory. I sighed, meeting Desiree's dramatic gaze. She always had a flair for the theatrical, but she wouldn't say no unless it was a genuinely bad idea. "Why? Give me one good reason, and I won't contact him."

“So what do you want me to say? Do you think this strong kiss feels good? Tell me. I’ll say anything to stroke your fucking narcissistic ego. Was it the fact that you stole my first kiss just as you’ve stole and ruined every firsts in my life? Or do you me to you that that sad, repulsive excuse of a kiss was good? Is that it? One would think that after kissing so many women, your kissing skills will be pro.” I walked up to him, my gaze lit with open hatred. “I will tell you the truth, Jin. I find you repulsive. The very sight of you makes my fucking skin crawl and I’d rather choose with the cruelest punishment your mother gives than to be stuck breathing the same room as you are. You are a v

Sadile's body was a canvas, a map of pleasure, and Travis and Jenna were the artists, painting her with their touch, their kisses, their whispered words of encouragement. As the pleasure built, Sadile felt herself teetering on the edge, her body tense with anticipation. She was close, so close, to the precipice, to the moment when everything would come crashing down, when the world would explode in a kaleidoscope of color and sound.

Caleb asked me, and I smiled. "I will," I replied, and he nodded. " No!" my father growled. " Regan is my problem. He Killed my wife and tried to kill my second wife. He stole from me and tried to kill my family members for nothing because of his greed. He is a sociopath. He is venom, and he is my problem. I will fight him. I have looked for this bastard for years. I want to fight him and kill him very slowly when I am done with him." My father said.

And maybe I’d let her, just to watch her softest brown eyes shine in the fire. Every time I see her, I don’t just want. Wanting is too human. Too polite. What I feel is a need that borders on destruction. I want to wreck her. Fold her into my chaos. Crush the world that shaped her without me in t. I want to make her bleed out every memory that doesn’t have me in it. And if that sounds monstrous, I can’t even tell what sick part of me thinks yet. Because I am.

Maybe there was something more to him than the man who’d torn apart her life. “I never wanted this,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. Selene’s heart pounded in her chest. “What did you want, Damien?” Damien looked at her, his gaze intense, but his words were distant. “I wanted control. I wanted to prove that I could win, no matter the cost. But it doesn’t feel like winning anymore.” Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know how to respond. The walls between them seemed to crack further with each word he spoke.

Surgical. This had been different. There had been something underneath the calculation. Something that moved faster than strategy. Something closer to fear, which was a word I had never in twenty-seven years associated with my father, and the fact that it was the word that kept arriving told me more than anything Marco himself had said. Raphael didn’t want Marco dead because he was disloyal or at least what he thought. He wanted him dead because of what Marco knew. Those were not the same thing, and the distance between them was something I was still measuring when the cab stopped and I got out into the cold. I wondered if my father was hiding something himself.

Her thighs squeezed in renewed desire, her core aching in wordless, ardent agony at the sheer liquid intensity of his libidinous promise. Get. A. Grip She mercilessly castigated herself, her knuckles becoming white from the severity of her grip on the phone. This unraveling, shameless desire was neither ethical nor permissible under any conditions! Damien Blackwood was a towering financial genius, a hedonistic ruler, and an unrivaled corporate raptor. However, to her, he eventually represented the single most important means to an infinitely bigger professional purpose. That was all he could ever be. Not some wildly virile siren enticing her into dangerous territory of carnal stupidity. She