Devotion And Desire Mga Nobela at Kwento

'It's the same for you', he said quietly. 'We are not children that will leave our responsibilities for pleasure. It might be the same for me but I do not want it to be that way'. She whispered in anguish. 'It frightens me'. He was talking about desire and not love. He would never talk about love. 'God, do you think I do? That I want it that way?' The bitter anger in his voice jerked her head up. His eyes were. urning with emotion. His shoulders hunched with tension. She swallowed with difficulty. 'What about Devon?'

At the wedding, Ewan Holland's assistant replaced the slideshow video with a clip of my sexual assault from five years ago. Amid the dead silence of the hall, Lilith Clayton pinned down my hands as I scrambled to unplug the flash drive. "Relax! I mean no harm. Just wanted to remind you how much Mr. Holland loves you. He doesn't mind your past, so don't ever chase cheap thrills or betray him." While I racked my brain trying to convince everyone it was an AI forgery, I frantically signaled Ewan to pull the drive. I thought he'd surely step up to save me. Yet he dragged the timeline bar forward and zoomed in on my face instead. I stopped wrestling, staring at him in disbelief. "What are yo

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Adrian. Not while I have you." Julian lifted his head, closing the distance between their lips in a deep, desperate, passionate kiss that tasted of scotch, rain, and absolute devotion. Adrian groaned into the kiss, lifting Julian off his feet and pressing him back against the mahogany wall, claiming his mouth, his body, and his soul with a possessive heat that erased every lingering shadow of Marcus Kane from the air. The net was tight. The betrayers were turning on each other. And the final exposure was only days away.

Just him. He leaned to her ear and whispered, so quietly: "I want to know every cell of you. Not just on the outside... but inside, too. Because I don't just want your body. I want you. Every part of you." And in that moment, Sloane knew: this was no longer desire. This was devotion.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did when we first met. And after that.” “And after that,” I add. He chuckled and nodded yes. “Alright, and again, after that. And I know this may seem stupid to you, but. I was fighting my own demons back then. I wasn’t thinking straight. If you believe it or not, I’m still fighting my demons right now. But I’m trying to be...patient with others so..Can you forgive me?” I stayed silent because now I could recall all those things Valentine told me about. About him coming from an abusive and aggressive household. Maybe Jace’s upbringing was like that. That’s why he’s all grumpy.

The contact is scorching, every shift of pressure amplified through shared consciousness. We are not escaping into desire. We are weaponizing it. His mouth trails down my neck, slow enough to make me tremble, deliberate enough to push the bond higher, hotter. My breath fractures into sharp pulls as sensation floods every nerve pathway, mirrored perfectly in him. The pathogen tries to replicate the spike. It fails. Because this is not raw lust. It is trust. It is devotion sharpened into something dangerous. I feel him everywhere. The tension in his muscles. The heat of his skin. The pulse between us building and building, climbing toward something overwhelming.

My mother stayed, not because she loved him, but because leaving would have meant vulnerability. I saw what love did to people who pretended it didn’t matter. It hollowed them out. So I built something else. Control became my language. Excellence became my shield. I learned to dominate rooms so I’d never be small inside one again. I learned that respect lasts longer than affection and fear is cleaner than devotion. Desire, though… Desire is different. Desire doesn’t ask you to be seen—it only asks you to feel. It can be indulged and dismissed. Controlled. Managed. I allow myself that much. One night. No promises. No future tense.

I didn't like being objectified, and I didn't like being treated like a possession. "Is that all I am to you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a pretty face?" Claus's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to flash with something - maybe annoyance, maybe irritation. "You're here for a purpose, Delilah," he said. "And that purpose is to marry my father and secure our family's interests. Your looks are just a bonus." I felt a sting from his words, and I knew that I had to be careful around him. He was ruthless and calculating, and he wouldn't hesitate to use me for his own gain.

What was that? ‘Couldn't that woman be touched? Is she poisonous?’ “Human desire is like a bottomless abyss. When I'm not sure I can keep a person, it will feel like I’ve opened Pandora's magic box if I touch her. I'm afraid that I will become so terrifying and crazy that I will want to tear her apart.” Ace narrowed his eyes and gripped Azula’s chin. “But for me, you’re dispensable.” “That’s sad.” Azula shrugged. She was used to it.

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."