Novel & Cerita Forbidden Desire

I explained, "Velvet Confession isn’t about fabric; it’s about surrender. The soft kind people don’t talk about. And Luna’s Sin—” “—is about what?" He raised an eyebrow, taunting, "Howling at the moon after a breakup?” Oh, you bastard... You big headed, egoistic, arrogant- argh! “It’s about forbidden desire, sir! Not ... Howling at the moon after a breakup.” What is that anyway? Where was he getting all of these. Last I checked, he wasn't so sharp mouthed. Guess 5 years does lots of things to you. "So..." He hummed, pretending to think about it. “There's moonlight, guilt, and women whispering into what, pillows? Enlightening really.”

It’s much, *much* wetter than before, a lewd, visceral symphony that reverberates through every fiber of my being, making it all the more overwhelming, all the more intensely forbidden. This symphony of sensation, this rising tide of raw, carnal noise, is increasing the pleasure to an almost unbearable degree. It’s increasing the sensation, sharpening every nerve ending, heightening the forbidden intensity of everything that is going on right now. God, I know this is wrong. My conscience, a faint whisper in the back of my mind, screams that this is so fucking wrong, a transgression against everything I know. But I can’t help it, I really can’t. The fact, God, the sheer, undeniable forbidden

“Even now, you’re trying to run in your mind. But I’ll follow you there too.” His words cut through my soul. I could feel my pulse in my throat, in my ears, in my chest. I hated him. I hated his entire being. But the way he was touching me, it made me feel. He made me feel desire. And I didn’t want to feel it. He leaned in closer until his lips were only a breath away from mine. My heart beat faster against my chest. Every muscle in my body screamed to move, to push him away, but the air between us felt too heavy to break.

A soft, traitorous moan escaped my throat, and I quickly bit my tongue to stifle it. I slipped a finger downward, finding the soaking wet heat between my thighs. I was already dripping, my body reacting to the forbidden theater in front of me. Damn it. The thought looped in my head like a sin. I wish it were me. I wanted to be the one pinned down, the one feeling that relentless pace. My mother’s cries were punctuated by the rhythmic, wet sound of skin slapping against skin—a carnal percussion that filled the quiet house.

Waking up to the sound of his voice is still, after everything, the most beautiful and most maddening thing in my life. All I have ever wanted all I will ever want is him. By my side. Within my reach. Mine. I know I'm not the husband he might have dreamed of, back before he knew what it meant to belong to someone like me. Hell, I don't even deserve him. But that's the nature of desire, isn't it? We crave the things we have no right to. And he — he is the most dangerous sin I've ever known, one I'll gladly drown in for the rest of my life, one that consumes me and reshapes me into something I'm not sure even I recognize anymore.

I was doing fucking fine some days back, but now… she was standing in my living room, and the only thing I could think of was to clear a fucking spot on the table, bend her over it, then fuck her in different positions. My jaw clenched. And I told myself that this was wrong. Because it truly was. But wrong never fucking felt this right. Desiring something this forbidden never felt this fucking sinful yet sensational. I stared down at my cock that was starting to grow just at the thoughts of her, and I knew instantly that something needed to be done. I needed a whore. Anything to purge out the desire that was crawling up my fucking skin. But when I reached out to my assistant, there was none

“Of cause I want him,if not anything for him to make me cum on my bed, that would be a crazy dream come true,I can't imagine it happening now,it feels so wrong he's supposed to be my stepbrother not a reason I get to cum every night “ “You've got to do what you want, boundaries are meant to be crossed. Desires are meant to be fulfilled and… I think you need a real dick this time, not your second best usual “ Sigh.. For the fact that this is a forbidden desire that's what lights me up the most. It makes me wet at the thought of it. .. It's more than unholy. “What do you think Sloane?”Vanessa tapped my shoulders. “I think you're right, make him beg and plead for

The whole day after Mom announced her trip, I was a mess. Every time I looked at Alexander, my body reacted against my will. My pussy would throb, remembering how his fingers felt inside me the night before. I kept scolding myself in my head. *This is so wrong. He’s married to your mother. He’s your stepfather. What kind of daughter are you becoming?* But no matter how much I tried to fight it, the ache between my legs only got worse. I still really wanted to see him but I couldn't as Mom stayed over. I'm starting to crave him and he hasn't even fucked me yet. I shouldn't even be thinking about this. He's twice my age and married to my mother.... But it sure feels so fucking good. I want mor

The cold steel, hot blood, the relentless pressure of his mouth, the slick filthy grind of his palm against my clit through the ruined underwear and the way my own wetness made every movement louder. Somewhere inside that building people had just died, and he had walked out of it hard and calm and already thinking about fucking the woman who had tried to run from him, and my body kept answering him like it had been waiting for exactly this kind of wrong. I was shaking, soaked and terrified but still my hips kept moving against his hand, small desperate sounds slipping out of me every time he pressed just right, the wet fabric sticking and sliding with every circle of his palm. He pulled back

My knees gave out first, folding me down onto the cold floor without deciding to, my eyes still fixed on the gap in the door. My breathing matched theirs before I noticed it happening. My hands moved on their own, into my top, freeing myself to the cool air, my nipples already aching before I touched them. I circled my thumbs over them, watching the flex and bunch of Dorian’s back with every thrust, and a sound climbed my throat that I bit down before it could escape. I slid a hand lower and found myself already soaked. I wish it were me. The thought looped inside my head. Ugly, forbidden, and viciously insistent. I wanted to be the one pinned under that rhythm.